❥𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 || 𝑀𝐽 𝐼𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠 /𝒞ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓁ℯ𝓉ℯ𝒹 /❥•

♥Contract(Bad Era)♥

You.

"Remember the conditions (Y/N), there's only one," Frank repeated for the umpteenth time.

"Yes Frank...don't touch him," I roll my eyes.

Frank sighs in defeat as he paces around the room. "He's never done this before you know,"

"Done what Frank? I'm just the company," I make air quotes as I say 'company'.

"Yeah but he's never had a contractual friend," he mimics me by using air quotes around 'contractual friend'.

"Well I'm here now Frank and you know I need to money," I blush as I stare at the floor, "I really do,"

"(Y/N)" Frank sighs, "Just breathe...once he signs the contract, the money is yours and everything will be okay," he smiles reassuringly. 

Frank had hired me to be Michael Jackson's friend - but bound by a contract. Too many untrustworthy people had walked in and out of his life for him to be able to connect with anyone openly.

As if on cue, a tall man with a slim built walks into the living room wearing a red shirt, black pants and black loafers. His curly black hair is tied in a neat bun.

Michael Jackson. I think to myself. Anyone would know.

"Mike!" Frank greets Michael warmly and he smiles.

"Hey Frank!" he chuckles, "Is she here?" he asks softly.

"Yep," Frank pops the 'p' and steps aside so as to give Michael a view of little old me.

By little old me you mean nineteen year old (Y/N) who happens to be so broke that she'd take money to be someone's friend. I think to myself bitterly.

I stand up awkwardly and adjust my dress and hair. I look so plain and so simple. Now that I see how great Michael looks, I want to..uh...die.

"Hello," Michael smiles as he walks up to me, "I'm Michael," he holds his hand out for me to shake.

I shift my eyes toward Frank for approval and Frank nods vigorously. 

"I'm (Y/N)," I smile shyly and take his hand, assuming that he will shake it...however he brings my hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

What a gentleman!

He looks back at me and smiles, releasing my hand gently, leaving me blushing like crazy.

(Y/N)! You're his friend...stop acting stupid. I curse myself.

"Well Mike, here are the papers," Frank beckons Michael to sit down at the table and Michael makes his way over.

I sit down on the sofa and watch as the two men read over the papers at the dining table. I fiddle with my hands and pray that the tension will subside.

I then see Michael take a pen and sign the paper without hesitation. 

"Great," Frank smiles, "Well (Y/N), this is your new home for the next year... and you now have a brand new job!" he smiles as he walks over to me and pats my back. "Good luck kiddo," he whispers and then leaves.

Now it's just Michael and I.

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2 Weeks later:

"And the man literally saw me dancing like an idiot in the car!" I giggle as I clutch my chest.