Michael Jackson Imagines

Strange Encounters

I was working in the big city as a fashion blogger. It was 1982 and I have been working hard on my blog, with the latest trends.

In the morning, I decide to go to a nearby coffee shop to get a latte, before heading to my office.

After I order, I head out into the street and run into someone walking pretty fast, causing me to spill my hot latte all over them.

"I'm so sorry." I say, trying to adjust to the situation that had just happened.

As the man gets up, I can see him more clearly.

He was tall, with brown eyes, and tight curls.
It was Michael Jackson.

"It was my fault. I'm the one who should be sorry." He says, wiping his shirt off with his hand. He flashes a bright smile, to reassure me everything was fine.

"I'll go get some napkins inside." I say, memorized by his stare and presence.

He grabs my hand, playfully. "I said it was fine. I'm running down to the studio anyway, so I can change." He says, letting out a soothing chuckle.

"Ok. Well I'm sorry anyway." I say, giving him an awkward smile.

"Well, where are you headed?" He asks.

"I'm on my way to my office, but I like to observe the city and people, before I start my work." I say.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a blogger, so I write about fashion and people, and the city life. A bunch of random things that women are into." I say, shrugging and awkwardly smiling, as we walk down the street.

"That's really cool. I'm into fashion myself." He says, smiling very big.

"Maybe I'll write about you on my blog one day." I say, looking up into his eyes.

"Well, here's my number." He says, as he fumbles with his fingers, after giving me a slip of paper.

"You should call me.. And we can hang out." He says.

"I would love that."

"Well I have to run to the studio, but I hope to see you another time." He says, giving me a smile.

He turns around and starts to walk fast down the street again.

"I hope to see you again too." I mumble to myself, as a huge smile is plastered on my face.