Finding Michael (Michael Jackson Fanfic)

"Walk outside and you'll see ten different Elvis Presleys."

"Wait, back up." Bridgett says for the tenth time, running her eyes, "You're saying you think Michael Jackson's in the same hotel as us?"

"Yes." I nod surely.

"And you heard him earlier this morning playing piano in the club?"

"Mmhm."

"So you've ways believed he didn't actually die on the 25th of June? You think that it was all staged."

"Well... no. I didn't really believe it until Macy said she seen him tonight."

The girls had all gathered on the couch infront of me, listening as I explain everything and naw on my thumb nail.

"Shania, listen to yourself. Do you really think it's a coincidence that you're starting to think all of this stuff so close to his death date? Maybe you're just a little... over whelmed and you're imagining things."

I place my hand on my hip as I look down at her. "Are you implying that I'd mistake someone else's voice for Michaels?" I ask shocked, "I'll have you know I'd be able to pick out his voice from a thousand other people thank you very much."

"She's right you know." Cassie adds.

I smile at her.

"Okay, okay," Bridgett waves her hands, "Let's say this is all true and Michael Jackson is still alive, what do we do about it?"

"Well, what any sane person would do in this type of situation. We find him." I say surly.

"Find him?! Will you listen to yourself, Shania? You sound like a crazy person!"

"Well it is a Moonwalkers vacation. And what better way to spend it than to find the King Of Pop?" I explain, "It's fool proof!"

"I'm in." Macy exclaims proudly, getting up to stand by me.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Bridgett says quickly, "Listen to what you're saying."

Macy looks at her sternly, "You may not believe me, but I know what I saw. And I can't leave this place without doing anything about it."

"Even if he is alive out there, what proof do we have? You hearing him through a vent? No one will ever buy that."

"And Macy seen him."

"This is Vegas, Shania. There's impersonators everywhere. Walk outside and you'll see ten different Elvis Presley's. I'm sorry, but it'll take more than that to get me on board." Bridgett shrugs, crossing her arms.

"Your camera!" I gasp, turning to Macy, "You were taking pictures all night... maybe, just maybe, you caught something."

Macy runs to her bedroom and just as fast she's running back out with her digital camera in hand. "I'm checking!" She sits down and flips through the images.

"I honestly believe he's out there." I say sincerely, "And I'd really love your help if you're willing to give it." I basically plead.

Slowly, Cassie's face light up in a grin. "You're absolutely without a doubt the craziest person I've ever met, Shan. And I believe you."

"You do?"

"Don't ask me why," She laughs once, "But this plan's insane and it'd be my privilege to help you pull it off."

"Yes." I smile at her before turning to Dee. "What'd you say?" I ask hopeful.

"Shan, you know I'm in." She grins.

"Dear Lord help us." Bridgett mumbles from her spot on the couch.

"Um, you guys..." Macy's shaking voice pulls our attention to her. "I found something." Macy says slowly.

With shaking hands she turns the camera around and sure enough, behind a picture of us, on the second level balcony, you can see a figure with pale skin and nose that comes to a defined point. It's a little blurry, but there's no doubt that that's Michael. Anyone would recognize him.

We gape at the small screen infront of us, trying to process the very clear and real evidence that we have. It's the man who we grew up idolizing standing just above us while we pose for a quick picture. I can't believe my eyes. It's almost too much to handle.

"You believe us now, Bridge?" I whisper, still gawking at the screen.

"Holy shit." She breathes.

"Yeah." Dee says shakily. "Holy shit is right."

"Michael Jackson. In the flesh. He's alive." Cassie says joyously, coverings her mouth with her hand. "He's alive."

I smile bigger than I think I ever have before, happy tears forming in my eyes. "Yeah. He is. Now all we have to do is find him."

"And how do you suppose we do that?" Bridgett asks.

"I have no clue. But you're the one who always said if you want something bad enough you'll get it." I shrug, sweeping my hand across the room. "Have you seen a more motivated group?"

"What if this turns out to be a wild goose chase? We are grown women, we can't just go chasing deceased 80's pop stars on a whim! That's not something normal people do, we can't do it, we just can't. That's insane!" Bridge cries.

"And we're not normal, so it's perfect!" Dee grins.

"You're the one who said you'd do anything to cross these off our list." I say as I dig out our old paper from my pocket, "Was that a lie?"

"Yeah, was it?" Cassie questions.

"No... it wasn't."

"And what does it say at the bottom of this paper with a gold star?"

"Meet Michael Jackson."

I toss the unfolded sheet on the glass table, "And now's our chance. Let's do it. If not for us now, than do it for our 10 year old selves who wanted nothing more than to meet MJ. C'mon, Bridgett, Moonwalkers are family, remember? We can do this without you, but we really rather not."

She sighs heavily, and after a very long pause of silence she finally speaks. Her voice coming out depleted. "I guess we're really doing this then."

***

"But why would he fake his death?" Cassie questions. "What were the options again?"

"To escape debt, live the remaining years of his life out of the public eye, or someone was after him."

"But do you really think he'd leave his kids behind just like that?" I snap my fingers.

"Unless they know about it."

"No," Dee shakes her head, "Remember a few years back when Paris went through all of that stuff? She wouldn't have done that if she knew."

"Dee's right."

"Well then it has to be a reason big enough for him to leave his pride and joys and settle for a life of isolation. It has to be a pretty big reason for a star as giant as Michael, to disappear off the face of the earth and leave so many people behind... My paper!" I suddenly remember.

I run into my room and open my sock drawer, fishing out the piece of paper Lance Hosmick dropped in the hallway.

Running back into the living room, I hold it up. "Remember how I was telling you guys about the notebook? Well that is the paper that came out of it when it dropped."

"Did you open it yet?"

I shake my head. "No."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Bridgett says hurriedly, "Open it!"

Taking a deep breath, I finally unfold it and look it over. Nobody's says anything for what feels like minutes.

"What's it say?" Dee asks, breaking the silence in the room.

I read the script over. "It says... an address."