i believe in u & me. | 𝐌𝐉.

𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈.

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I BELIEVE IN U & ME.

( chapter eight • play nice. )

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After the whirlwind of the party they'd thrown, Janet decided her girls needed a breather. She gathered Donna, Esther, Diavian, and even honorary girl Cyrus for a spa day—anything to wash away the remnants of the night before. Meanwhile, Michael retreated to the third floor with Chris and Marquis for a jam session in his music room. The sound of his fingers sliding across guitar strings filled the space, as he pieced together demos he hoped would catch the attention of a record label—his ticket out, his dream.

"Michael, do you honestly believe this is gonna work?" Janet's voice broke through his thoughts, laced with concern. She hesitated before continuing, "You know Dad's gonna hear about this. He'll make sure every producer, every label president keeps you at arm's length."

Michael smirked, a dry laugh escaping his lips. "You always doubt me, Jan. But you've gotta have a little faith." He poured pink lemonade into three glasses, the liquid swirling gently as it settled on the white and gold marble table. "I'll be eighteen this fall. After that, Dad won't be able to control what I do."

Janet attempted a smile, trying to mask her worry. "Maybe you're right. I just hope you get to live that dream so I can tag along to the award shows. And hey, maybe I'll even hook up with Ginuwine."

Michael chuckled, tossing a pillow at her. "You wish. I'll be back in a minute. Gotta check on Esther."

Janet's head snapped around, her face twisted in confusion and a bit of disgust. "Wait, your girlfriend stayed over last night? You didn't tell me that. Did you two—"

"Janet, no!" Michael cut her off, exasperation heavy in his voice. Without another word, he turned and made his way up the stairs. The air in his bedroom was filled with the soft, soulful sounds of Sade's 'Lover's Rock' as Esther stood in front of his mirror, her hands carefully working through her thick brown curls. She hummed along to the melody, lost in the rhythm, when Michael silently approached her from behind, his arms wrapping around her waist in a tender embrace.

"Hey, you," he murmured, his voice soft against her ear.

Esther smiled, her eyes meeting his in the mirror before she turned to press a light kiss to his cheek. "Hi, honey."

That morning, Michael had been up before the sun, pouring his heart into a new song. It was a love letter in melody, inspired by every smile, every touch, every whispered word between them. He couldn't wait to share it with her.

"I've got something for you," he said, excitement lighting up his face as he connected his computer to the speaker, the familiar flutter of nerves in his chest.

Esther moved from the desk to sit on the bed, her curiosity piqued. "What is it?" she asked, her voice laced with anticipation.

Michael's grin widened. "Just listen."

As the first notes of a smooth, mid-tempo Neo-Soul beat filled the room, Esther's eyes widened. The sample from The Temptations' "Just My Imagination (Running Away With Me)" blended seamlessly with Michael's riffs, creating something new, something that was undeniably him.