Michael Jackson Imagines (re-imagine)

One night stand

I just broke up with Chad.

I admit, there was a profound sense of relief when he admitted to falling out of love.

Yes, I was distant, treating him as if he doesn't exist when we're together. 

It's not as if I chose to become this way; he's the one who made my life miserable.

He cheats on me everyday and thought I wouldn't notice. 

It's not my loss anyways. 

Now that I'm free, it's time to celebrate. I plan to embrace my single life and indulge in some wild fun, as far as I care.

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As I hurried to get ready for the party, the sound of abrupt knocks on my door startled me.

"Coming!" I called out, the click-clack of my heels echoing on the hardwood floor as I rushed to answer.

Swinging the door open, I was met with the sight of my best friend Michael, looking disheveled and worn-out, as though he hadn't eaten in hours.

"Michael, what happened to you?" I asked, concern lacing my words as I instinctively moved to wrap him in a comforting hug.

He smelled faintly of alcohol, but his responses were coherent enough, indicating he wasn't completely wasted.

"You were right, Y/N... she's a freak," he choked out between sobs.

My heart sank as I processed his words. "What do you mean? Did she hurt you?" I ask, gently brushing his hair away from his tear-streaked face.

His voice cracked as he struggled to speak. "She... she ran away with some guy," he managed to say, his anguish is noticeable in every word.

"Oh, God no...sit here," I urged, guiding Michael towards the sofa where he flopped face-down against the soft pillows.

Letting out a sigh, I sat beside him. "Michael... please, talk to me," I urged, gently poking his arm in an attempt to coax him into opening up.

"I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the cushions.

"Okay, then... let's go and grab a drink?" I suggested, hoping to lighten the heavy mood that hung in the air as he continued to sob like a wounded soul.

His sobs quieted a bit, eventually coming to a halt altogether. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at me, meeting with his eyes that are tired and puffy from crying.

"Let's grab a lot," he insisted, determination flashing in his weary gaze.

Before proceeding with our plans, Michael scrutinized my appearance and questioned, "Are you heading somewhere important?"

I shook my head, a wry smile playing on my lips. "No, just dressed like this because I feel the need to celebrate my breakup with Chad."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You two broke up too?" he asked, sitting up slowly, his gaze locking with mine once more.

"Yes, finally free!" I exclaimed, a sense of liberation washing over me. "And you should celebrate yours too!"

A bitter laugh escaped him. "I loved her, but she never felt the same way about me. I can't believe I set myself up," he lamented, tears threatening to spill over. He quickly wiped them away, a mixture of anger and sadness evident in his eyes.

"You know what? Forget about the party. I'm not going anywhere because you're staying with me," I declared firmly, reaching for my phone to order some drinks for us.

Despite his attempt at a forced smile, Michael remained silent, his emotions still raw and overwhelming.

As I dialed for delivery, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. That woman didn't deserve his heart, not one bit.

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"Ahh..." Michael let out a deep sigh after downing the entire bottle of beer, feeling the fizz tingle his throat as it went down.

"That hits the spot," he muttered, a hint of relief in his voice as he leaned back against the sofa, his body visibly relaxing.

I nodded in understanding, reaching for my own drink. "Sometimes, a cold beer is all you need to take the edge off," I remarked, taking a sip and savoring the refreshing taste.

"Cheers for ending toxic relationships!" I cheered.

Michael's lips curled into a soft smile as he nodded in agreement. "Motherfuckers can go to hell!" he declared, his words tinged with a mix of bitterness and defiance.

We clinked our bottles together, the sound echoing through the room as we celebrated our newfound freedom from the shackles of unhealthy relationships.

In that moment, surrounded by empty bottles and the warmth of camaraderie, I knew that we were both on the path to healing and reclaiming our lives. And with each sip of beer, it felt like a small victory in our journey towards self-discovery and happiness.

Later, we sat in comfortable silence, the only sound filling the room being the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional clink of our bottles as we set them down on the table.

As the minutes ticked by, I could see the tension slowly melting away from Michael's shoulders, his expression growing more serene with each passing moment.

"Thanks for being here for me, Y/N," he said suddenly, his voice genuine as he turned to look at me. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

A warm smile spread across my face as I reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. "Anytime, Michael. We're in this together," I replied, knowing that no matter what life threw our way, we had each other's backs.

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Hours and hours of chit-chatting with our shitty experiences. The beers kept flowing, and before we knew it, Michael's balance began to waver. With a bit of luck, he stumbled but managed to flop down on the edge of my couch, narrowly avoiding banging his head on the nearby side table.

I quickly I helped him back up, but he gently pushed me away, indicating that he was feeling nauseous and needed some time alone in the bathroom.

I waited patiently, the laughter and chatter from our earlier conversations now replaced in silence.

Eventually, I spotted Michael making his way back up the stairs, his movements unsteady as he swayed from side to side. His knees gave out, and he began to crawl up the stairs, much to my amusement.

Chuckling, I kicked off my heels, realizing I could no longer walk properly either. With a grin, I followed Michael into my room, where he was headed.

"Michael... what are you doing in my room?" I asked, squinting as my eyes struggled to focus.

"...mmhm... I dunno~" He slurred in response.

"It's too hot," he managed to mumble as he began stripping down out of nowhere.

Confusion furrowed my brows as I watched him.

My vision blurred as I wobbled, pushing him aside to lay on my back. "Hey! Get out of there... I should be there," I blurted out.

The scent of alcohol lingered in the room, accompanied by Michael's heavy breathing.

He shifted his position, facing towards me.

It was then that I realized the striking beauty of this man. His perfectly caramel-colored skin, arched brows, captivating bambi eyes, cute button nose, and delectable lips—like a sculpture from the heavens.

Why didn't I noticed how perfect he was?

God, he's intoxicating.

His tired eyes were illuminated by the lamplight in my room, seemingly beckoning me closer and closer to him.

Unable to resist any longer, I inched my face closer to his as his right hand trailed along my waist, drawing me nearer. His body pressed against mine.

the last time I remember, our lips met in a passionate kiss.

And everything went black.

To be continued...