MJ IMAGINES (World with Applehead)

Off the Clock

After the successful release of a new album, and what you think the endless press tours, interviews, late-night recording sessions and whatever the King decided wants to do...you thought that maybe, there might be a break, for a job well done? Short vacation? just to breathe and disappear from flashing lights and constant demands. More hours of sleep perhaps? that isn't erupted by a phone call.

Hmm...well you thought. Because in reality? the universe doesn't want to give you that just yet, not now, not anytime soon.

The world outside is now wide awake, too excited even to continue functioning without your permission. With a slow, dramatic sigh, you moved your body and your brain still stuck between at "five more minutes" and "I just wanna quit this job". You get ready anyway.

You lazily got up,  the room felt colder than usual, or maybe it was just you from the thought that life doesn't slow down, and so does this job.  And just as you're about to step into the shower, your phone rings from the nightstand.

Of course it does. You pick it up.

"Hello?" you say.

"Hey, Y/N... sorry to call you this early," comes the voice on the other line.

You let out a small chuckle. "Well, it's not like we're new at this job, right?"

A tired laugh comes through the speaker.  "Girl, my body couldn't keep up with all the traveling we've been doing. I hate to say this, but... I might not make it to work today. I'm sorry."

You pause, then sigh. This time softer, more understanding than annoyed. You get it. Bodies eventually stop negotiating with overworked schedules.

"Don't worry about it," you say gently. "Get well soon, okay?"

"Thanks, Y/N."

The call ends, and you stand there for a moment longer than you should. Then you exhale, already feeling the day somehow getting heavier.Because apparently, today didn't just refuse to be easy—it decided to upgrade itself.

After your quick shower, you got ready and put a little makeup, do your hair, and find the comfortable clothes yet still suitable for work in your closet. Once you were satisfied, you grabbed your purse and got out of your bedroom for a breakfast.

It wasn't long before you left your apartment and made your way to work. Fifteen minutes later, you pulled into the parking lot of Epic Records.

You greeted the staff as you made your way upstairs. Just as you were about to set your bag down on your desk—

"Good morning, Y/N." One of the staff members approached you with a folder in hand. "Could you let Michael know I need his approval for the autograph we'll be using on the new merchandise line? Production's deadline is coming up."

"Good morning." You smiled politely. "Mr. Jackson has already approved it. You can let Production know they're good to proceed."

"Perfect. Thank you."

As the staff member walked away, you picked up the folders and documents neatly stacked on your desk. Contracts, meeting agendas, rehearsal schedules, interview notes—everything had to be organized.

You sorted each document into separate folders so he wouldn't have to waste time searching through them. You had barely finished when the phone rang, you quickly reached for the receiver.

"This is Y/N, speaking."

"Good morning, Y/N. Quincy wanted to confirm whether Michael had a chance to review the lyrics he sent over. He's waiting for his feedback."

"Yes, he has already gone over them and included a few notes. I'll have them delivered to the studio this afternoon."

As you spoke, your eyes scanned the neatly arranged stacks on your desk until you found Michael's handwritten notes. You set them aside in an outgoing folder, ready to be sent.