This short story takes place in Michael's Bad Era, right after Michael had finished The Way You Make Me Feel music video with Tatiana. You are Michael's close friend in this story, you know him personally.. a bit too close I should say.
This is also...
-YOUR POV- I tap my foot to the upbeat music coming from my tv, the crisp, cold, winter wind blowing through my hair. MTV was playing Michael's new music video, The Way You Make Me Feel.. I love it... the drum track is amazing in this song, I mean Michael writes all of his music so it's nothing surprising; he's a pure genius.
It's been a long while since I got in contact with Michael.. I haven't talked to him since the recording of We Are The World (which I was in with him)
...It's been two years.
Two..damn.. years.
It's 1987 now.
Michael hasn't even bothered to contact me in two years.. who can blame him though, he's a busy man.
Possibly the most busy man at this present time, Michael's a busy legend.
My rhythmic foot tapping turns agitated leg shaking as I feel my blood start to boil.
I shut off my tv and immediately get up and rummage through my elegant New York apartment for Michael's personal phone number.
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I'm only in New York temporarily because my modeling agency wants me to model in New York for a couple years, then I can go back to LA.
Luckily they're paying my hotel bills, not me.
I start to feel disappointment, as I remembered the maids might've thrown it out while cleaning my room.
Until.. as if was fate, my phone rings.
I immediately jump up from the floor, almost making my legs give out from jumping up too fast and run over to my bed table where my phone was.
I look at the caller ID, turns out my friend from back home is calling.
"FUCKING HELL!"
I slam my phone back on the station it was hooked to and then groan, plopping down on my burgundy red bed with my face in the folded blanket on top of my bed.
Great, ANOTHER thing to remind me of him.. Michael LOVES red, any shades of red. Hell.. he looks really good in any shade, he wears red so much it's weird seeing him in any other color, though he easily can look good in any other color.
I glance over to my right, the dark tv
"I wanna be where you are, god damnit.."
I turn back on the tv and switch to the news.
"Michael Jackson will be visiting The Big Apple for his Bad Tour next Friday!"
Yup.. there goes my chances.. Good Morning America announced Michael Jacksons only your date in New York for the next couple of years to its thousands.. no.. a shit ton of people..
"ticket sales go on sale in an hour."
"AN HOUR?! HOLY SHIT I HAVE TO GET READY"
I quickly grab my phone and call my manager and a taxi, almost twisting my ankle or fall.
I'm going to Madison Square Garden to get those tickets.
