It Started With A Wish (It's 1987 All Over Again) 🔥

Out Of Control

After a long and exhausting day, Michael and Belle climbed the wide staircase of Neverland Ranch in silence. The chandeliers above cast a soft golden glow, but neither of them looked up to admire it. Their bodies were heavy—tired not just from the day, but from the unspoken pressures that clung to them like shadows.

Belle leaned slightly into Michael's side, her fingers curled gently around his arm. "I wonder if they're asleep," she whispered, her voice tinged with hope. "They've had a long day too."

Michael nodded, lips pressed in a tired smile. "We all have."

As they reached the hallway that led to the children's room, the soft flicker of light escaping from under the door told them that the twins were still awake. They paused.

Belle tilted her head, listening. "They're talking."

Michael raised a finger to his lips and leaned in closer. It was then they heard their five-year-old son's voice, filled with innocent wonder.

"...So that's what shopping is?"

His twin sister, Paris, replied with her usual confidence. "Yup! You go into a big store, and there's shoes and shirts and sparkly dresses—and you try them on and then buy them!"

Michael and Belle exchanged a glance—half smile, half heartbreak.

Prince's voice came again, curious but slightly confused. "We've never done that before, huh?"

"Nope," Paris said, hugging her bunny tighter. "We just get boxes at home. But I wanna go there. I wanna see it."

Michael felt Belle's hand gently tighten around his. Her silence said more than any words could.

"We don't need to go," Prince replied. "We got toys and clothes and everything here."

"I know," Paris sighed. "But it's not the same. I wanna feel it. Like real kids do..."

There was a pause, long enough for Belle to bite her lip and for Michael to lower his eyes to the floor.

Prince's voice grew quiet. "I think I heard Daddy and Mommy say it's not safe for us. That crowded places are bad."

"Why?" Paris asked, still too young to understand the weight behind that word.

"I dunno. Maybe 'cause they're famous."

There was a beat of silence before Paris murmured, "What's famous?"

Michael's heart clenched. How could he possibly explain that to her? That the world he fought so hard to build for them also came with flashing lights, screaming fans, and the absence of privacy? That being loved by the world came with a price?

"I think it means lots of people know you," Prince answered, trying to piece it together like one of his puzzles. "Like how everyone waves at Daddy. And takes pictures."

"Even when we're just walking," Paris added. "Or eating ice cream."

Michael winced. He remembered that day. Paris had spilled a whole scoop of strawberry ice cream down her dress, and a paparazzi photo had gone viral by the afternoon. She didn't even know.

"People scream when they see Daddy," Paris continued, eyes wide in wonder. "Like, 'AAAAAHHHH!' But they're happy. Not scary screams."

"They scream like Mommy and Daddy are... um... super big people or something—what's that word again?"

"Superstars?" Paris offered, hugging her doll.

"Yeah! That one," Prince nodded. "They scream like that... even when there's no concert or nothing."