Love, Michael

Music's Takin' Over

The anticipation was almost too much to bear as I revved the engine of my cherished 1975 Camaro as I exit the acceleration lane. I speed onto the highway with their album "Goin' Places" playing loudly through the car's speakers. I began to travel the open highway with a heart full of excitement and a foot heavy on the gas pedal.

The music's upbeat rhythm filled the car, and I couldn't help but sing along with every word. "Music's Takin' Over" pulsed through the speakers, and the bassline made my heart race even faster. The wind whipped through my hair as I opened the windows, and I couldn't help but groove to the infectious melody.

I sang as if I were on stage with The Jacksons themselves, lost in the magic of the music. I belted them out with all the enthusiasm I could muster.

"Cause'..Music's takin' over! Music makes you wanna dance!"

I sang, my voice soaring along with Michael Jackson's.

The road stretched out ahead, a ribbon of asphalt leading to the concert venue where dreams would soon become reality. As I sped down the highway, getting into the turning lane, the anticipation built with every passing mile marker. I couldn't wait to finally reach the venue and let the music truly take over.

After 5 minutes of being on the highway, I finally reach the crowded venue parking lot.

As I pulled my Camaro into the VIP parking area right in front of the concert venue, I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness. This was it – the moment I had been dreaming of.

With the engine silenced, I stepped out of my blue 1975 Camaro, and the world seemed to shift its focus toward me. The evening sun cast a warm glow, and the sparkle of my dress shimmered as I closed the car door. Heads turned, and I felt a mixture of envious glances from women and admiring looks from men waiting in line to enter the venue.

I confidently walked toward the entrance, my heart pounding not just with the excitement of the concert but also with the knowledge that I was about to meet The Jacksons, my ultimate idols. As I approached the security personnel, I produced my ticket with a smile. They gave me a nod of recognition and allowed me to pass, realizing that I was a VIP guest.

Once inside the venue, I was approached by a group of workers who had been assigned to guide me. Their faces lit up when they saw me, and I could tell that my presence was something out of the ordinary. With my dress sparkling like a star against the dimly lit corridors, and the distinctive clack of my boots echoing with each step, I received compliments and smiles from the venue staff as I walked by.

One of the workers leading the way struck up a friendly conversation with me. He told me about the history of the venue, sharing stories of past concerts and memorable moments that had taken place within these walls. I listened eagerly, my anticipation growing with each word.

As we made our way down the extensive corridors of the venue, the excitement inside me was almost overwhelming. I was getting closer to meeting The Jacksons, the people who had provided the soundtrack to my life. The thought of seeing Michael Jackson in person filled me with a mixture of joy and nervousness.

But as we continued on our journey through the maze-like venue, I couldn't help but feel like I was living a dream. My heart raced, my boots echoed, and my dress sparkled, and in that moment, I was the star of my own show. Little did I know that the best was yet to come.

Before I knew it, we had reached the door to The Jacksons' dressing room. The venue worker, still beaming with enthusiasm, knocked on the door. He congratulated me for being the first meet and greet person to arrive, noting that the others were ironically late.