Love, Michael

Front Row Magic

The anticipation in the concert venue was electric, even if I got a first access pass to sit in my seat before the crowd came in two minutes later. Even if there were only a couple of people in the concert hall, the energy was just there, it was thrilling.

As I made my way to my front-row seat, I take in the view. The stage, the lights, the empty concert hall that was soon to be filled with adoring.. and crazy.. fans like myself.

Once I got comfortable in my seat, my sense of peace and serenity was interrupted by the energy of the crowd filing into the hall all at once. The excitement in the air was infectious, and I couldn't wait to see The Jacksons perform live.

I settled into my seat, the stage looming just a few feet away. The venue was packed to capacity, with fans of all ages eagerly awaiting the show.

Suddenly, the stage lights dimmed and  thus a hush fell over the audience.

Suddenly, the familiar beat of a drum kicked in, and the crowd erupted in cheers. The Jacksons burst onto the stage, their energy and charisma immediately commanding the attention of everyone in the venue.

I was spellbound as Michael, Jackie, Tito, Jermaine, and Marlon moved and sang in perfect harmony, their voices filling the air with music that sent shivers down my spine.

The concert was a whirlwind of color, sound, and emotion. The Jacksons sang their hits, and the audience sang along, creating a symphony of voices that filled the venue. I couldn't help but dance and sway to the music, caught up in the infectious rhythms.

Michael, in particular, was a force of nature on stage. His voice soared, and his dance moves were nothing short of mesmerizing. I watched in awe as he danced and spun around, his presence magnetic and captivating.

As the concert reached its peak, I locked eyes with Michael, and for a brief moment, it felt like he was singing just for me. The connection we had made earlier in the dressing room added a layer of intimacy to the performance, and I couldn't tear my gaze away from him. He smirked at me which, yet again caused me to almost choke in which he resumed his performance.

The concert, after 2 hours, finally drew to a close, but the memory of that night would stay with me forever.

But as I was leaving the hall, I got pulled away by a worker

"Hello, you're miss y/n, right?"

I nod in agreement

"Yes, that's me."

He looked at me with a sense of urgency.

"Michael Jackson has urgently requested for you backstage. Please follow me quickly."

My heart skipped a beat as I realized I had forgotten about the meeting Michael had suggested earlier. I hastily followed the venue worker, aware of the envious glares from the crowd of girls waiting just outside of the backstage hallway. It was as if I had a golden ticket to a secret world, and I couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and excitement.

As we made our way through the bustling backstage area, my mind raced with anticipation.

What could THE Michael want to talk to ME, a small town girl, about?

We turned a corner, and there he was – Michael Jackson, standing amidst the backstage chaos but looking as calm and composed as ever.

He greeted me with an eager smile, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement, almost like a kid in a candy store.

"Y/n, I'm so glad you could make it back here! I was worried you had left already or forgotten about our promise!"

he said warmly, reaching out to hold my hand between his big hands.

I couldn't help but hyper focus on them and how warm they are.

"Did you enjoy the show?"

My heart pounded as I met his gaze.

"Michael, it was absolutely incredible. Y'all were amazing up there.. it was like nothing I've ever experienced before! I loved it!"

He chuckled, a playful yet serious glint in his eye

"I'm glad to hear that. I wanted to talk to you, but I had to sneak back in here. My dad doesn't know I'm here talking to you though.. and he'd be furious if he found out."

My eyes widened in surprise.

"Your dad doesn't know you're back here?"

Michael nodded, his expression a mix of excitement and urgency, he gently scratches his head through his Afro.

"Yeah, I told him I lost something important of mine in the venue and that I was going to find it. But I have to be quick before he comes in and I get into serious trouble for lying to him."

Despite the urgency of the situation, Michael's charm and charisma shone through. He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Y/N, I want to give you my number so we can keep in touch. I really enjoyed talking to you earlier backstage, and I'd love to get to know you better."

My heart skipped a beat at his words.

"Wh.. really? You'd.. ME?"

I replied, my voice equally hushed despite how flustered I am.

He pulled out a small piece of paper out of his pocket and a pen and quickly scribbled down his houses home phone number.

As he handed it to me, our fingers brushed, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

"When you call, tell the person, whoever answers that you are a reporter that has an interview with me over the phone for a radio show or some silly excuse. They'll hand the phone to me."

But Michael wasn't finished yet. He flashed a playful grin and leaned in even closer, his lips dangerously close to my ear.

"And who knows, maybe we could meet up again and share that dance we talked about earlier. What do you say?"

His flirtatious tone made my cheeks flush with warmth, and I couldn't help but play along.

"I think that sounds like a perfect plan. I'll do exactly that."

We exchanged a knowing look, a secret promise shared between us as the chaotic backstage world seemed to fade away as we stood there, lost in our own little bubble.

Michael had a way of making me feel like I was the most important person in the room despite the hoard of awaiting fangirls less than 50 feet down the hall.

His playful charm was impossible to resist, and I found myself eagerly looking forward to the days and weeks ahead when we could get to know each other better.

But as the minutes ticked away, Michael broke eye contact with  me became more aware of the urgency of his situation.

"I really have to go before my dad comes looking for me.."

he whispered, his eyes filled with a mix of excitement and sadness.

"But I'm so glad I got to see you again."

I nodded, understanding the delicate situation he was in.

"Michael, thank you for everything. I can't wait to talk to you again."

With a final, lingering smile he speaks to me once more

"Call me tomorrow okay? Around nine PM. I will be back home in California by then."

Michael quickly kissed my hand with the paper in it and then dashes off into the depths of the backstage hallway.

As I left the venue that night, I hold the paper with Michael's number clutched in my right hand as I drive all the way home.

My heart was still racing from the incredible concert and my secret encounter with Michael Jackson.

Over the coming weeks, Michael and I would exchange phone calls, letters, and dreams. Our connection deepened, and little did I know that this was just the start of a journey that would take me on incredible adventures, and that the magic of Michael Jackson's music and the charm of the man himself would continue to shape my life in ways I could have never imagined.