• Love On Set || Michael Jackson •

Chapter 1 || Aunt Joyce Is in Town

『 Cleveland, 1977 』

Laying upon her unmade canopy bed, black curls bounced to and fro as she bobbed her head to the melody produced in the corner of her room. Darlin' Darlin' Baby by the O'Jays provided a comforting ambiance as she flipped through the pages of the newest edition of Jet Magazine. Plush pillows were propped up at the foot of her bed when they belonged at the top, and some even took solace on her carpeted bedroom floor. That late-evening sunlight peeked into her open window for a quick hello before it retired for the night. Golden and honey-toned rays caressed her face and highlighted the gorgeous shade of deep melanin her skin proudly showcased. A pumpkin-scented candle burned brightly on her nightstand, giving her room a delicious aroma that embraced each person as soon as they walked in.

"Isn't he just sooo...ooh!" she squealed with delight to no one in particular. She was alone in her room as she fawned over pretty much every teen girl's celebrity crush at the moment: Michael Jackson. Delicate fingers traced his handsome face. "He has no business being that damn fine, I swear."

With no warning whatsoever, her door flew open, and in came her rambunctious little brother. The slamming of the wooden door against a wall made the older sister flinch and slam her magazine closed in frustration. "Hi Angelina!!!" he greeted in an outdoor voice accompanied with a cheeky, dimpled smile. "August what did I say about knocking, boy!" Angelina protested with obvious anger in her voice. The 10-year-old boy stood beside her bedpost, hands behind his back, and an ostensible remorseful frown. "I'm sorry . . ." he began, "but Amber made me do this!" That wild grin, displaying missing teeth and all, was the last thing Angelina saw before the short, big-headed boy dashed out of the room.

"Why did my parents continue having kids," Angelina groaned. She got up on her feet in a composed manner and swiftly stopped the record player. She stored away her Message In The Music vinyl and stomped downstairs.

As Angelina cascaded the curved staircase, she was met by her younger siblings. Middle sister Amber wore a snarky smirk on her face as she held the stolen Jet Magazine a little too tightly for her older sister's liking. Little brother August stood right by her side, covering his mouth to prevent amused giggles from escaping. "Seriously y'all, hand me my magazine right now," Angelina asserted with an outstretched arm once she got to the first floor.

"Fine, here you go," Amber falsely surrendered. The magazine was waved around in her older sister's face, milliseconds away from being grabbed, but the 14-year-old was too quick. Off to the kitchen, the trio went, chasing each other around their large house. Screaming, shouting, hollering, giggling, laughing all the while.

"GIVE THAT BACK, IT'S BRAND NEW! YOU'LL RUIN IT!" Angelina raged. Amber and August only added to the outrage by mocking her last sentence. The 3 children stopped dead in their tracks when they reached the kitchen's entrance.

"Hey Mama," they all greeted, out of breath. "Hey babies," a feminine, velvety voice responded. Their mother, Josephine Donnelly, was content at the kitchen sink as she sliced up some raw chicken. "What are we having?" August questioned eagerly. "You always asking about some food boy," Amber jeered, granting her a glare from her little brother.

"We're having chicken teriyaki. Wash y'all hands and come help out." The kids made their way inside. "Thanks for joining us Angel," Mrs. Donnelly smiled at her eldest as she passed by. Angelina gave a sarcastic, tight-lipped smile.

The kids got straight to work. Amber even handed back the magazine to Angelina saying "We had to get you out of your room somehow!" Angelina rolled her eyes and tucked her belongings in a drawer, safe from the elements of the kitchen.

The sound of heavy footsteps trodding up the basement steps grew louder and louder. "Hi Daddy," the kids welcomed in a chorus as their father turned the corner, holding a laundry basket full of clean clothes.