The life of Michael.

Thriller.

Michael sat glumly on the sofa, in his large, empty home. Ever since he'd moved away from his parents and siblings, the loneliness that plagued him had only gotten worse. He knew he couldn't move back in, though. He couldn't be around Joseph any longer, the man made him feel sick.
The doorbell rang, and Michael's sad face lifted momentarily. Perhaps... A friend? Maybe? Michael got up excitedly, almost like a little kid on Christmas. But then he pulled on his   dark curl hanging down from his hat, and snapped back into reality. It wasn't a friend, people don't just pop up magically. It was probably just Quincy.
The ringing turned into heavy knocking, which caused Michael to automatically flinch and then run quickly to the door. He didn't want to leave Quincy waiting, or make him mad, or anything... He quickly pulled back the door, to be met with a large hug.
Michael's mind went blank for a second, and he raised his hands in a weak attempt at defense. Then he realised. If that was Quincy hugging him...Did that mean good news for Thriller?
Michael pulled back quickly, and asked, 'Quincy, is it good news? About Thriller?'
Quincy bobbed his pea-shaped head up and down enthusiastically.

'We've been nominated for 12 Grammys, Michael!'

Michael's eyes widened, his dark brown eyes starting to shimmer.

'12...? Oh, Quincy, we done it! What did I tell 'em? They won't be able to ignore me now, Quincy.'
Quincy nodded his head, and grinned.

'Michael, we are going to make history, I can just see it.'
Quincy grinned and clapped his hands together.

'Yeah.' Michael smiled, revealing a perfect row of pearly teeth. You'd think he'd have had some work done on them, but he'd had the same smile since he was a kid. That's what really made Quincy's heart warm.

'Michael, I gotta go now. I'll see you on the 28th of February!' Quincy then suddenly rushed out, leaving Michael on his own again. Michael was alone once again, but it wasn't as bad of a feeling as it was last time. His solo career really was going to be a success, surely, with Thriller. He didn't know for sure quite yet, but he knew Thriller had something special. If he was so successful solo, maybe being on his own wasn't so bad...Michael grinned, and he ran to the phone quickly. He picked it up, then...What? Who should he call? Diana? Or maybe Janet...?

Michael found himself dialling his home number, and waited for it to be picked up. He knew exactly who to call now. He heard the click on the other end of the phone, and then heard a crackly 'hello?' Of course it had be to Jermaine to pick up the phone. But, no mind. He'd just have to ask him to pass it over.

'Jermaine? Yeah, it's Michael. I want to speak to mother.' Michael heard Jermaine audibly roll his eyes over the phone and a grunt. Michael chuckled silently. Jermaine was always grumpy.

'Why? Just speak to me. I'll give mother the message.' Michael frowned.

'No, just give her the phone. It's private, Jermaine. Don't be a schmuck.' Jermaine let out another grunt at the end of the phone, then Michael heard a loud bump and he knew the phone had finally been passed.

'Hello? Who is...Jermaine? Oh, it's Michael? You're sure?' Michael smiled fondly, as he heard his mother and brother converse for a bit.

'Mother, it's me, Michael. And it's good news, okay?' Michael heard the two go silent, then his mother's voice became louder as she pulled the phone closer to her.

'Michael? Yes, that's you? When are you coming home?' He heard the sadness in his mother's voice, and guilt tugged on his conscience. But he couldn't go back. He just couldn't.

'I don't know, Mother. But that's not what I called you about. Mom, Thriller got nominated for twelve grammys.'
Just silence. Then a weak response. 'Twelve...?'

'Yeah, Mom. Twelve.'
He heard a loud laugh, an excited laugh from the other end of the phone. And his Mother started repeating twelve, again and again.

'Oh, baby, I'm so glad. Joseph is gonna be so happy. I don't know where he is right now, but I'm sure...' His mother trailed off. She wasn't sure how Joseph would react. Michael didn't want to know. He was about to respond to her, when he heard another bump. Jermaine had snatched the phone back.

'You got...Twelve nominations? Are you playing with us, Mike?'

'No, I'm serious, Jermaine.'
He heard a sharp intake of breath, quite unlike his Mother's excited reaction.

'Does that mean you're really serious about this solo thing? What about the band?'
Michael's smile faded off of his face, and his hand tightened around the phone. He really hadn't thought about his brother's reaction, just about getting away from Joseph.

'I'm sorry...Look, nothing is absolute yet. I...Jermaine, you can focus on yourself now. Not just the family-'
Michael was cut off by an outburst of anger.

'Michael! You are the only one...With any...' A pause. 'You know what, go solo! I don't care. We don't need you. I was the lead singer before you, anyway. I...I hope Thriller is a big failure!' Michael heard the phone slam down, and he sat there in shock for a moment.
Then he felt tears start to well up in his eyes, and he was pathetic to try and stop them. They just poured out, just like they did when he was little. He'd so tried to become something bigger than just that cute, little kid turned ugly teenager. But that's who he was. His chest heaved up and down as he cried, letting out wails of sorrow. Why couldn't everyone just go away? Just leave him alone? Be happy for him? Why was everyone trying to stop him? He buried his head in his hands, and resisted the urge to claw at his face.

Why were his brothers so different to him? When they were angry, they just had to take it out on others. Like what Jermaine had just done to him. But when Michael was angry, he took it out on himself. Oh, why did he have to be this way?

But...If he couldn't change what he had been. Why was he no longer going on walks? He hadn't gone on a walk since they filmed the music video for Thriller, all the way back in December. They always, always cleared his head. Surely, he wasn't that recognisable. Surely...Maybe, just maybe, he could go out without being mobbed.
Michael wiped his tears off, and grabbed his coat and strode out. He walked fast, trying to avoid people looking at his face. But, luckily, nobody was out. It was close to midnight, and there was nobody around him lurking in the dark. He smiled at this, and started to run. Gosh, he'd forgotten how much he still loved this. The feeling of crossing sidewalks, running whilst the wind attacked his whole being. He felt free, for once. But then his foot caught on a rock on the ground, and he went tumbling down.
The adrenaline rush got knocked out, and he sat on the floor, trying to catch his breath. He laughed happily, and he felt himself a clumsy fool. But, he was glad of it. Maybe restricting himself to being a sensible adult was...Really the reason he was so miserable.
Maybe with the success of Thriller... He'd be able to live life the way he wanted.
He grinned at this thought. Perhaps it all wasn't so bad after all. Maybe God did have a more... Benevolent path for him.
As Michael was about to get up, he heard a small click, the shutter of a camera. He'd been sat there for too long.