From the moment they meet at Studio 54, Michael Jackson and Jacqueline Carter have a chemistry that can't be denied. An ambitious musician falls in love with a city girl who helps him keep his sanity in an insane world. Night after night on the danc...
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Special shout out to yahzmineyael for styling Princess Jacquie this chapter!
October 24th, 1977
"Jimmy!"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Can you come help zip me up this dress? I can't reach."
Setting his razor down on the counter, Jimmy stepped out of the bathroom with half his face covered in shaving cream to attend to his girlfriend's request. His feet padded against the hardwood floor as he made his way into the bedroom he and Margaret shared, finding her standing in front of the full-length mirror with a worried expression.
"What's wrong, babe?" he asked, coming up behind her and dutifully pulling the tiny zipper on her ochre satin dress up her back. He met her fretful gaze in the reflection, offering her a reassuring smile.
"I'm not sure if this is the look for tonight. I'm running out of outfits for all these fancy outings." Margaret complained.
"What's so fancy about it? We go to the disco all the time." Jimmy responded, letting his hands trail down his girlfriend's waist with a grin, looking her over in the mirror. "You look foxy anyway, I'm not seeing a problem."
Margaret managed a weak smile, grateful for his reassurance but still feeling unsure.
"I guess it's not that serious, but I just feel like I need to dress to impress. We don't go out with The Jacksons every day."
Sighing softly, Jimmy gave her waist a reassuring pat before stepping back.
"Girl, why are you worried about impressing those people? You look amazing," he said, a hint of exasperation in his voice as he gestured toward her. "Let me know if you need anything else, baby. I'm going to finish my shave."
"Jimmy, don't be like that! Can't I be nervous?" Margaret protested, feeling frustrated by his sudden dismissiveness.
"You can be whatever you want to be, Marge. I'm just saying, I'm not letting anybody make me nervous about what I wear," Jimmy replied with conviction, walking back into the ensuite bathroom. "Unless they want to buy me something more to their liking, who cares?"
"Baby, you know that's not the point," Margaret sighed, following him to the doorway. "Fashion means a lot to me. I want to look my best wherever I go, especially when I know important people are going to be there. Is that so bad?"
Jimmy paused, realizing that his frustration had been misdirected. Taking a deep breath, he set aside his razor and turned to face her.
"I know, baby. I know that's very important to you," he said, speaking gently as he reached out to brush a stray curl from her face. "I don't mean to disregard that. I just think we define 'important people' a little differently."
