melodies at midnight (a.g x m.j)

the Jacksons

Ariana ~ April 2nd, 1978

"She actually quit?" I question Courtney, a little stunned to say the least.

She nods her head slowly, she doesn't look surprised at all. "Are you really that shocked?"

"You can't tell me she wasn't getting better!" I retort.

Courtney's eyebrows furrow and she scoffs. "Yeah, maybe at the rate of a toddler. Tatiana will not be missed around here."

I look away and think to myself quietly. Tatiana had days where she could be unpleasant but I feel like she was really getting the hang of it. Her leaving isn't the end of the world though, she complained a lot.

"Hey, have you heard anything important from that music producer guy?" Courtney asks as she sweeps the floor and snaps me out of my thoughts.

I shake my head and sigh, leaning against the back of the bar. "He hasn't...I'd be lying if I said I'm not nervous." I glance at the people on the dance floor, having the time of their life while I'm standing behind here with the worst anxiety ever. "I mean, don't you think if they liked it I would be hearing from them a lot sooner?" Panic is clear in my voice.

Courtney shrugs loosely. "They are a recording company, they probably get a million cassettes a day. You only played me your A Cappella tape and I'm no music producer but you sounded amazing. I can't imagine what the actual recorded version sounded like."

I smile, somewhat cheered up by my coworker. "Thanks, Court. I'm just so tired of waiting for an answer. Being left in the dark over this is infuriating."

"Stop freaking out. Have a little faith in yourself."  She lectures me like I'm her daughter.

"You're right, you're right. Let's work the rest of this shift in peace." I stand up straight and shake the nervousness out of my body, hopping right back into the job.

•••

I wrap a towel around me as I step out of the shower, I dry myself off completely and towel dry my hair, I then throw my robe on. A long yawn escapes my mouth, the full body shower I just had is almost having my legs give out. It's a perfect melatonin though.

My stomach growls while I leave the bathroom, I think I have some leftover pasta from the other night. I walk to my little kitchen, pulling out the clear Tupperware from the fridge. As I pop the lid off, the phone starts to ring. I just know this is Janet.

I rush over to where it hangs on the wall and I pick it up quickly. "Hello?" I expect to hear an uppity, cheerful voice but all that's heard is dead silence. "Hello?" I ask again.

"Um...Ariana?" I hear a soft spoken voice say. I stand there, a little stunned once I realize who's speaking.

"Michael? Is Janet okay? Is everything good?" I question in a panicked manner. It's almost 1 am, a little girl all alone on the streets of New York almost never ends up good.

"Oh yeah, she's...she's fine." He answers, I can tell he's nervous. Relief runs through me.

"Thank God, you scared the living crap out of me!" I run my hand through my hair and sigh thankfully, now that that's been cleared up, I can only wonder why he called me. "So...why did you call me?" I ask hesitantly.

It's quiet for a few moments before I hear rustling through the phone. "Sorry, uh...I just-" He lets out a loud breath before continuing. "I wanted to...talk...but if you're about to go to bed or you were sleeping, I'm so sorry and I'll let you go-"

"No, no, no!" I say, very eagerly. Talking to Michael, just the two of us and no other situations involved has been something I've wanted to do for months. He has this energy that I can't pull myself away from. "I usually don't knock out until 3 am. I work at night so..."