Superstar, Michael Jackson, murdered his father Joe Jackson on the eve of Christmas, 1979. What drove him to commit such a passionate, heinous crime? Money? Greed? Fame? Th Jacksons and their reputation are sent into a spiral.
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12/22/79 ♰
Every seat in the Apollo was purchased. Over 1500 people filled the theater as they prepared to see the charity event. Some people even flew to New York solely for the talents. The theater was flooded with anticipation, especially for the Jacksons. A few people cried, in disbelief that Michael Jackson was behind the red curtain, rehearsing for the upcoming show.
The host of the event, a bald white man, stepped to the center stage and was cheered for. Not because anyone recognized him, but because he was set to introduce some of the most popular musicians of the decade.
He tested the microphone on the stand that stood in front of him, with the palm of his hand. He spoke robotically into the mic, "Testing, testing. Can everyone settle down so that the event can begin?"
Once the audience was settled, he introduced the first act. A teenage girl from Detroit whose debut bubblegum-sounding song reached number one on the R&B charts earlier that year. The audience stood out of their seats and waved their hands to her song. Most sang along.
On that side of the curtain, there was nothing but pure bliss, but behind the curtain was brewing chaos.
"I said, Michael Jackson." A heavyweight white man screamed at a man much smaller and younger than him. He stuffed a cigar between his thin lips and spoke while holding it between his teeth, "Michael-fucking-Jackson, twirling and turning right there on that fucking stage."
"Michael Jackson isn't here, Mr, Colombo." An organizer of the current event told him.
The man turned towards the worker, fighting the urge to slap him. "Then get him here!"
"His team has been trying to get in touch with him all evening. He is nowhere to be found, but the other Jacksons are here, sir.." The younger man explained.
"Why did they come without him? Where's the manager?" The assistant's face shifted into confusion. "The dad," He sighed, "Joe Jackson."
"Oh!" The assistant nodded a little and smirked. His enthusiasm deescalated quickly. "Mr. Jackson is in the dressing room with the other Jacksons."
He pointed, "Well, tell him that he can kiss my money goodbye. I said I wanted Michael Jackson, not every other Jackson in the family tree. That's who would've boosted this event and my investment would have been worth it.
And then you want me to sponsor the event for LA? Over my dead body. If Michael Jackson isn't there, then neither is my money. I don't waste money on these new artists who are opportunists for the push of a new trend or a feature on a new hit song. Get Michael Jackson."
"In the contract it states that their gig can't be canceled. Michael Jackson isn't here but that may be okay for some fans. I mean- I was more of a fan of Jermaine than Michael." A girl stuttered behind him and he spun around at her, raising one of his eyebrows.
