Author's Note: The award ceremony written in italics at the beginning of this chapter signifies a dream. As a disclaimer, my idea is 100% fictional. Thanks for reading. This one is dedicated to Indiii_bindiii and keiathegypsy.
1989
BRENDA
Grammy Awards (March 2nd, 1988)
"And the Grammy goes to..."
Those four words rang through the auditorium as well as my ears. I slowly turned to see Michael clutching my hand with a dead but saddened expression on his face. He seemed to fight every urge to just slump his head onto my shoulder in shame and cry. Michael had been nominated for several awards throughout the evening, but never scored. I chose to keep opinions to myself for now.
The entire room hushed for a moment.
"Brenda Hughes." Just before I walked toward the stage with as much grace as possible, Michael leaned to place a tearful kiss on my cheek. While still turned in his direction, I felt his hand softly touch around my neck as he whispered in my ear.
"I love you, baby." Seconds later, he pulled away for me to get up once more.
A shouting but happily voiced repeated compliments over and over again, but I didn't let this stop me from walking up the stars. Two announcers shook hands with me just before I gripped the heavy award at a low microphone. Noise of disapproval and joy from the audience echoed through, but I didn't even care. My eyes locked with Michael across the stage before long.
Tears sprang, but I charged on. "First of all, I'd like to thank God for all my blessings. Without Him, I'm nothing."
Respectful applause sounded at my words and I continued. "I'd like to thank my family. Mommy, Dad, Jazmine and Anthony, I love every single one of you from the bottom of my heart. Thank for always supporting my dreams and refusing to let me give up. I'd to like to thank my team, my agent Reggie Bradshaw, my publicist Kelly Dawson. My makeup artist Nicole Moretti. Everybody at Star Power Entertainment. With everything surrounding my career, I wouldn't even flourish at the beginning without all of you."
And finally..." I stopped to lock eyes with Michael again. Whitney had been standing the entire time. "I'd to thank Michael Jackson." My words prompted full on squealing and cheers from the audience. Michael greeted me with only a tiny smile given his emotions at the moment. "I know you've heard this too many times, but it's the truth: I wouldn't even think about performing if it wasn't for you. Thank for always being there for me and pushing me when I fell down. You'll always be my soldier. Thank you so much everyone. God bless...
__
I heaved sitting up in bed and Michael instantly turned on the light. His voice hushed for me to calm down as I frantically looked around the room, jumping out and away from the covers. He followed as expected and made his way to the living just before I could slam the door in his face.
In silence, he'd followed me to the kitchen as I made tea for myself at two in the morning. California weather meant nothing. I couldn't even acknowledge Michael while I sat down and blew a few times before drinking carefully. Dim but glowing light colored the room.
"What happened?" he asked concerned.
I mumbled in a voice I couldn't even recognize "I've had this weird dream for a while now. I win a Grammy, acknowledge God, my family, the team, as well as you at the very end. The crowd cheers and I'm really happy, but then I just wake up after that. It's so confusing, and that scares me."
'I'm really not sure, but maybe it's telling you success is coming and you just can't see it play out to its full potential with all the bullshit clouding your judgment."
I squinted and my arms soon folded. "What the hell do you mean?"
"Settling." Michael answered simply. "That's not what a real superstar does, girl. Fire someone or you'll never get to the top. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."
"Eight years." I whispered.
"There's no excuse. I let Frank go." Michael raised an eyebrow, but I never flinched.
"You're acting like they've fucked with my money!" I snapped back. "It's only my image. You can bounce with money just by breathing."
"Girl, I'm sorry, but you really sound like a dumbass!" Michael shouted. "They're just as crooked as Frank if not worse. It's been four years and you're still harassed in the tabloids. Are you sure no one on your team's jealous or anything in the group?"
My face scrunched at first. "Well, Kelly always schedules appearances or interviews at the last minute. Nikki and I just scramble to find outfits and shit only days before. I don't know if you realized this, but the same thing happened with our Mary Hart interview."
Michael squinted this time and just listened as I continued...
__
"Kelly!" I shouted the next morning at Star Power after flying back to New York.
I'd begged Michael not to came along with me. It didn't even help that this very issue led to another argument between us. My had yanked opened her office door as I charged right in. Her eyes bucked immediately as soon as I slammed the door behind me.
Served her right when Dunkin Doughnuts coffee spilled onto her paperwork next to a computer. She never acknowledged the spill and instantly walked her desk. Blonde curls tresses around her pale face jumped when she hurried to meet my glare. Silence fell between us and I could've cared less about the fearful expression in her eyes.
I never even bothered to sport professional attire in constant to her pantsuit. The stomp of my favorite boots charged through spinning doors of the building. Heads turned and voices mumbled out of curiosity, but nothing else mattered in this moment.
"You're fired."
I shook my head and slammed her door harder than the first time.
