One Day In Your Life.

The Night. (Indie's POV)

After adjusting our makeup and hair after our little bit of fun, we simply snuggle together, me laying on my back between Michael's legs while his hands wrap around my stomach securely. We sit in silence, the warm lights of the car illuminating the highly posh and sophisticated vicinity of the modern limousine.
"So, what exactly is happening tonight?"
I whisper with enthusiasm in my voice, disturbing the comfortable silence.
"Basically it's just a get-together of celebrities. We do it every now and then to talk, gather and give ideas, present and explain what we've done and what we've been up to and stuff like that. My brothers and I are doing a performance tonight, to promote our up-coming album. It's a surprise for ya, I'm not telling the song or anything."
Michael sneers as I look up into his beautiful face. I laugh at his childishness.
"Who is gonna be there?"
Michael hums, searching for an answer, tapping his forefingers on my abdomen.
"Honestly, I have no clue. I guess we'll have to wait and see. But, there will surely be some pretty big names floating around."
I feel butterflies stir deep in my stomach as the realisation of the vitality of this party hits me.
I smile to myself, more giddy, excited and nervous than I've ever been.
-
"Ok, we're here, y'all."
The driver announces in his booming, gritty voice, awakening me from my snooze.
Michael rubs my stomach sweetly.
"Good morning!"
He says sarcastically.
I sit up, Michael unravelling his arms from around my waist allowing me to stretch and yawn.
"How long was I asleep?"
I turn my head to see Michael staring, smirking.
"Around half an hour."
He says softly, in that angelic, gravelly tone that I fell in love with.
I feel the limousine pull up, the brakes screeching and engine humming smoothly.
As the windows are tinted and the curtains are pulled, I cannot see outside, but I can hear a hell of a lot of commotion.
I shuffle away from Michael and look him in the face.
"How do I look?"
I question.
Michael smiles widely, chuckling.
He leans forward and kisses me gently, whispering against my lips.
"Beautiful as ever."
I smile, caressing his warm cheek.
I pat down his shoulders, straighten his bow tie and flatten a few stray hairs of his almost flawless Afro.
I finish with a soft kiss on his lips, feeling him smile into my mouth.
"Shall we?"
Michael says with one brow raised, a sarcastic smirk and his palm out formally.
I place my hand delicately atop his.
"We shall."
I say in a soft British accent.
A door suddenly opens, revealing a deep Crimson carpet.
Michael steps out, and all of a sudden loud and frantic yells along with the mechanical sounds of cameras clicking faster than ever ring out.
I slowly step out behind him, and soon I'm blinded my the flashing lights.
People scream even louder as I step out.
I'm not even famous...?
Perhaps it's the fact that Michael Jackson is rubbing shoulders with and clutching a young girl has them all frenzied and desperate for the headline.
The cameras click and flash, rows and rows of paparazzi swarming the sides of the railing and barriers of the red carpet.
Michael tightens his grip on my hand, smiling at me lovingly with a glint in his eye.
He mouths the words "just follow me."
I nod and laugh amidst the commotion, adrenaline rushing through my veins.
Shouts of Michael's name and 'look over here!' fill my ears as he waves and smiles graciously in every direction possible.
I stand closely beside him, smiling shyly and linking my arm with his.
I feel his hand hold my lower back.
Countless news reporters from every network I know stare at fixed cameras, yelling above the noise.
Some walk up to us, their big cameras fixed on our faces, along with news reporters stuffing microphones in our faces, smiling with hope.
Michael simply says 'hi' and 'hello' into the mikes, waving and flashing his pearly white smile.
I simply nod and smile, rubbing Michael's arm and holding on in a mix of anxiousness and excitement.
We walk along, hearing the loudness become more distanced as we head into a dark hallway dull with pale yellow lights lining the walls, filled with security guards nodding as Michael walks past, him greeting them softly in return.
I turn and notice 2 large men behind us in big black suits with shades on, closely guarding us, staring straight ahead.
They stand both at least 6 foot, wide and buff.
I gasp quietly and return my gaze ahead of us.
A warm jazzy tune increases in volume as we approach a small entrance covered by deep blue curtains.
"Good evening, Mr. Jackson."
A short thin man says in a squeaky French voice, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, guarding the door.
"Hello, Fabienne. Have my family come through yet?"
"Indeed sir, they're seated at table 71. Right at the front in the middle before the stage. Make your way through. Beautiful gown, Miss..?"
"Jackson. Well...Hopefully, one day."
Michael cuts in with a confident, bursting tone.
Fabienne smiles warmly at us both.
I feel my heart inflate more than double its size, and my eyes threaten to become watery.
A breath hitches in my throat.
Michael looks down at me with immense love in his gaze.
I smile back, feeling my body melt.
My knees go weak.
He would wed me?
I hold on to Michael, his warmth radiating around me.
We walk into a dark, but blue light room, filled with tables neatly covered in white cloths, the white side plates and cutlery immaculately placed and glimmering under the disco light.
Stage equipments and band pieces scatter a wide stage fronting the whole area, warmly lit by orange lights situated at the front of the stage on the ground and above on a railing, cloaking the wooden surface.
No one appears to be in sight.
It's eerily quiet.
Michael just continues to walk, weaving us through tables and chairs towards the stage.
I simply hold his hand as we climb the stairs to the stage.
"Here, let's sit."
Michael and I sit on the edge of the stage, looking out.
"We're a bit early, people should start rocking up in half an hour.
I guess we have some time.
I spot table 71 right in front of us.
Michael and I sit in silence.
Strangely awkward, uncomfortable silence, staring ahead.
"BOO!!!"
A bunch of loud voices boom in my ears, making me scream and jump in terror almost falling off the stage, saved by Michael holding my waist...who is laughing hysterically.
I open my eyes and see Michael's brothers dressed in suits matching Michael's, bent over holding their stomachs laughing.
Michael's angelic cackle rings in my ears as I too begin to laugh.
He releases my waist and falls back holding his stomach, curling up in tears of laughter.
I then begin giggling louder than ever.
All of us take a few minutes for our laughter to subside.
"We-we set you up girl!" Michael breathlessly admits.
I punch his shoulder, my laughs subsiding.
Michael's brothers sit beside us on either side.
Marlon and Randy on mine, the other 3 on Michael's.
Everyone breathes heavily after the laughing fits.
A silence follows.
"So, have y'all done it yet?"
Marlon announces too loud for comfort.
All the brothers laugh and "oooooh", making Michael and I both blush and hang our heads smiling.
"Michael?! What??? YOU HAVE?!?!"
Tito yells wide eyed, leaning forward.
Michael simply stares at his lap, twiddling his thumbs, smirking.
"Don't tell mother."
Michael says quietly in a conspiring whisper.
They all gasp and widen their eyes, then begin shouting and whooping him, Marlon and Randy leaving my sides to go and pat their brother on the back mockingly.
"I can't believe it! Michael's gettin' pussy!"
Marlon squeals, making us all laugh.
I love how bubbly and bright they are, it's comforting, welcoming.
It's been a while since I've been around a family like this.
Mine is solemn, quiet and reserved. Only speaking when needed, never making jokes.
Mother and I are the outcasts.
"Cmon y'all, let's set up."
Jackie says in his soft, high tone, rather contradictory of his appearance.
They all get up and retreat behind us, their steps and voices fading away as they head backstage.
Michael takes my hand in his.
"Sorry about them, they're a little crazy."
Michael chuckles, smiling.
"It's ok, I love it."
"Go have a seat, wherever on 71, and I'll be with you in a moment."
Michael kisses me softly as I nod and smile.
He stands and heads to his brothers backstage, our hands departing.
The separation of our hands always leaves me feeling lost, vulnerable and empty.
It's weird.
I slide off the stage and go and take a seat on the table, smoothing out the cloth and counting 12 seats, 9 for him and his siblings, 2 for Katherine and Joe, and one for me.
Did they know I was coming?
Joe and Katherine!
Shit.
Will they be mad that Michael's dating, perhaps they could just tell them that I'm a friend he made, invited along for a plus 1.
What if they find out I took Michael's virginity?
They'd never forgive me.
Joe.
I'm honestly anxious to meet this man.
I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens.
I sit cross legged as a few people start to arrive, dressed glamorously and surrounded by bouncers, taking seats scattering across the massive room.
I haven't recognised anyone yet.
I hear Michael and his brothers conversing side stage, instruments clinking and amps humming.
Suddenly Latoya, Janet and Rebbie walk up to the table, all dressed in beautiful lace gowns in different styles and designs, their hair bouncy and glossy, makeup simple and pretty.
They smile and greet me warmly, seating themselves across from me.
We make small talk for around 5 or 10 minutes, and, without my noticing, soon the entire room is bustling with celebrities and high ends, all standing around in shiny, expensive dresses and suits, hair and makeup flawless.
Photographers weave through crowds, snapping pictures every few seconds.
Security guards are posted all around the edges of the room, making me feel awfully safe but at the same time, awfully out of place.
Latoya reaches over and taps my arm, smiling.
"We've told Mother and Joe you're gonna be here and why, so don't sweat about that. I think they're very excited to meet you. It's not often that Michael has female friends his age."
I smile and graciously nod.
Then Rebbie announces to all of us.
"The brothers are gonna perform 3 songs, I can't remember the names. But, once they're done, we can then order food!"
Janet whoops and smiles cheekily, making us all laugh.
Then, making their way to the table, a short, stocky woman in navy lace and sparkles with a long black shawl, resembling Rebbie in the face almost identically, limps towards us.
Behind her walks a solid, tall man, looking gruff and highly intimidating in a black suit and a big red tie, with a fluffy, unshaped Afro and ungroomed sideburns.
His eyes are sunken, small and show no emotion whatsoever, and his overall face represents aggressiveness, sternness and control.
Joe Jackson.