The Girl is Mine {A Michael Jackson love story}

What to Know:

Kelly is a back-up singer to pop-star Michael Jackson on his Bad tour from 1987-1989.Kelly is 27 when this story starts, and Michael is 29. Kelly took this job because she knew it would pay well, not because she liked Michael Jackson.

Also, at this point in the tour, they are in Europe.

Rehearsal

"See, I need you guys to give me some more harmony durin' the chorus like, the way you make me feel, and then I need you guys to be a little louder when you sing your part, and be more staccato with it." Michael said, smiling at Stacia, Donna, Connor, and me.

Yes, me, Kelly Thesian, was lucky enough to be chosen to be a back-up singer for one, the only, Michael Jackson during his Bad  tour all throughout Europe, Japan, Australia, and the United States.

I have to admit, I love what I do, but it always seemed so tedious until we actually got a chance to preform.

"Okay, so can we run that part once more?" Michael asked everyone. We prepared ourselves and came in where we were supposed to, inputting the changes he made.

"That was awesome! That's what I was looking for!" He shouted. "Alright, I think that's enough for one night, I'll see you all bright and early tomorrow." Michael announced. We all cheered as we exited the stage. As I was walking towards the edge of the platform, I felt someone lightly touch my hand. I glance back to see Michael standing next to me. "Could I speak with you for a minute?" He asked me. I nodded, although I didn't really want to .

He talked to me a lot, but not about friendly stuff. It's always about my singing and how it could be 'improved' somehow.

"How are you doing?" He asked me in his quiet voice, it was weird hearing him speak that way, especially after he sang so boldly.

"I'm very tired, and yourself?" I asked him groggily.

"I'm tired too, but I still feel pumped from the rehearsal. It always makes me feel good," he smiled. I gave an exhausted laugh in reply.

"So not to be rude or anything Mr. Jackson----" I began. His manager told us to say that, apparently it was more 'respectful'.

"Please, I've told you! Call me Michael! Saying 'mister' makes me sound old." He commented, his smile returning to his lively face as he spoke.

"Michael, then," I smiled slightly as well, "did you need anything from me?" I asked him, saying it lightly so he wouldn't take it the wrong way.

"Yeah, about your singing . . ." He trailed off.

"Of course it is." I sighed, already expecting him to say that. His smile dropped a little, "I'm sorry, it's just . . . Never mind. But all I'm saying is that we need to practice again. Preferably before the next show."

"But I have been practicing! Really hard actually!" I said crossing my arms. He put his hands on my shoulders.

"I know you have, I can tell. The only thing is that it's not quite----"

"Not quite perfect yet," I quoted him, "I know, I know." I said, cutting him off. He dropped his hands, "right . . . well, let's say tomorrow night after rehearsals?" He asked me. I rolled my eyes in defeat, "if I'm still awake by then," I said sarcastically. He bit his lip, probably not sure what to say next.

"I think we should go . . . It looks like we're the only ones left. Hopefully everyone hasn't gone back yet." He said as we started walking off the stage.

"I don't think they'd ever leave you." I said.

"And you think I'd let them leave you?" I heard his question, though I chose not to answer.

We actually did make the bus ride back to our hotel. Surprise, surprise.

When we got on the bus, Michael took the seat in front next to his manager, Frank, while I went all the way to the back to sit next to DJ, Connor, and Stacia.

"Hey!" I heard them all say in unison to me. DJ handed me a handful of M&Ms, "so what did Jacko want this time?" She asked, eating a few herself and laughing. I smiled, that was always what we called Michael. It was just a joke though, no harm intended.

"He just wanted to talk to me about my singing." I said popping a few into my mouth as well.

"Again? That's like the fourth or fifth time this month!" Stacia interjected, "if he really doesn't like your voice so much why does he keep you here? Like no offense, but it doesn't make sense."

"No, I understand. It's like I bust my ass practicing, and he tells me I need to keep working on it? Something's wrong with this picture." I said, rolling my eyes.

"Did you ever ask him what he doesn't like about your voice?" DJ asked me.

I shook my head, "no. I don't really care enough to ask, to be honest. It's like you either want me here, or you can make me leave. You either like my voice or you don't."

"He must have something personal with you then, because he never talks to us about that stuff. But I really like your voice." Connor said encouragingly. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Thanks guys. Too bad it's only his opinion that matters to the world, though." I said jokingly. They all gave a sleepy laugh, more like a grunt actually.

I finished my M&Ms before leaning my head back on the seat and closing my eyes, trying to get a few extra minutes of sleep.

It felt as though I only closed my eyes for two seconds before I felt someone shaking my arm to wake me. My heavy eyes slowly fluttered open. I was just conscious enough to make it back to my room without falling over, although I did have a close call near the elevator. 

We all shared rooms, and I happened to be sharing a room with DJ, who was my best friend. She wasn't only my best friend on the tour, but we have been close friends for years before this. We auditioned for this tour together, in fact. It was nice being able to have the nights to ourselves.

DJ opened the door with her free hand and led me to the bed. I was so tired I was barely able to make it.

I got into a comfortable position on the bed and pulled the covers over my body. The last thing I remembered was my head hitting the pillow before a fell into dreamland.

At last she threw me in a semi-comfortable position on my bed, and the last thing I remembered was hitting the pillow before I ascended into dreamland. Or considering my circumstances, Neverland. . . 

(I would just like to state for the record that I wrote this story when I was 12 years old. Like literally 12. I know that it isn't too good of quality of writing, but I'm working on fixing it so that it doesn't seem so amateur. If you want to see how I actually write, then go check out some of my more recent stories. This is not an accurate representation of my full potential as an author. And for those of you who have already read the story and enjoy it, don't panic. I'm not changing anything about the story except for the grammatical errors, minor details, etc. It will still be the same, I promise).

***Stop leaving comments about my use of "Jacko". CLEARLY I'm aware of it. I wrote this damn story myself, in case some of you have forgotten. I put it in as a joke. I'm sorry if you get offended by my sense of humor, but in reality, I HATE hypersensitive people, therefore I don't pay much attention to the caliber of my own sarcasm. I don't care if you don't like it because I'm not changing it. It's a JOKE. If you can't handle that, either get over yourself, or move on to a different story.

(Hopefully you guys like this a bit better. I tried to correct the grammar issues and add in a few better details. Let me know what you think. This was updated on 6-24-14).