MJ IMAGINES (World with Applehead) ON GOING

Gift of the Heart

One quiet afternoon at Neverland, he sat alone in his bedroom, the curtains slightly drawn, sunlight spilling softly across the carpet. Usually, he would be in the studio, rehearsing choreography, recording vocals, or planning something new. Rest wasn't something he allowed himself often. Michael rarely took time off- but today, he needed it.

Not because he was physically tired. It was the weight.

The invisible kind he carried every day, heavier since the divorce. Ever since he and his ex-wife separated, something inside him shifted. The love he once held, the hopes he built, the dream of creating a family with the woman he loved... it all slipped quietly through his fingers.

Since then, he felt lost. Unlovable. Like something important in his life was missing.

Michael picked up the phone and called you. He didn't even need to explain much.

"Can you come over?" was enough. You knew his voice well enough to hear what he wasn't saying.

While waiting, Michael sat on the sofa, flipping through a magazine resting on his lap. The television in front of him flashed with news headlines. He usually avoided tabloids — hated them even, but lately, they were impossible to escape. What should have been a private heartbreak became public entertainment.

His eyes landed on the front page. There it was, a photograph of him and his ex-wife. A beautiful moment captured in time. They were smiling, close, happy. Once, it meant everything. Now it felt like something the media was ready to tear apart, dissect, and feed to the world.

Michael let out a deep sigh, closing the magazine halfway.

Just then, the door slowly opened.

You stepped in carefully and saw him resting on the sofa, looking quieter than usual.

"Hey, what took you so long?" Michael asked softly, though there was warmth and anticipation in his voice at the sight of his best friend.

"Oh, sorry," you said with a small smile. "I saw the popcorn stand outside, and I just had to get some. I bought your orange juice, too." You placed everything on the coffee table.

"You're too kind. Thanks, girl," he replied, taking a handful of popcorn and beginning to snack absentmindedly.

You sat beside him, both of you watching the television, now playing some random drama. He didn't seem interested at all. You could tell his mind was elsewhere. Every now and then, he let out a quiet sigh, and you knew something was weighing on him.

You broke the silence gently.

"I know you're upset about the divorce and how the media is portraying your marriage," you said softly. "I know you loved her, Michael."

"Well, of course I loved her, but these tabloids and shit kept saying we were doing this for publicity? That I was using her family's name for fame? Really? Come on. Not to sound cocky, but I don't think I need that from anyone," he replied, his voice cracking slightly and sounding annoyed.

"I married her because I wanted to be with her and now... she's gone." Michael added.

You turned toward him, your tone comforting. "Whatever the media says, or whatever she says about your marriage, I know that for a time, it was beautiful."

"Yes... yes, it was," he said, forcing a small smile. Silence lingered again before he spoke.

"But you know... there's always something missing in my life."

You glanced at him. "Yeah? Like what?"

"I know I've got everything I wanted," he said quietly. "I mean I busted my ass for it. But all these things, deep inside me, I know it's not enough."