One (A Michael Jackson Fan Fiction)

Chapter 28

The weather was far nicer in Los Angeles than it had been in the midwest. I stepped off the plane and the warmth engulfed me. It was a welcome change from the harsh pin pricking cold we had been in for the past couple of weeks. It felt odd being here already... there were only two cities left in the tour after this. This grand adventure was coming to an end.

Cameras flashed fervently outside as I boarded the shuttle to the hotel. We had only one show in this city before a short break until Tokyo. After Tokyo would come the new year and with it, the final groupings of shows back in LA. As the days counted down to Michael's final concert performance, the media grew ruthless in their attempts to find a story. This was going to be his last tour and everyone wanted a piece of it.

Michael had sent one of his men to escort me from the shuttle to my room to keep the press at bay. For the most part, it worked, and I was soon in the safe confines of my room. Media focus had faded away from me over time. Nothing new ever expanded onto Teagan's story so they saw no purpose in pursuing it further. That didn't stop the fans, though. Some of them looked on with envy as I passed, others chased me down. Whether they intended to get a connection with Michael or just hear stories about him... I didn't know.

Alone in my room now, I lay flat on my back staring at the ceiling above, tracing the design of the bumps with my eyes. Finally, I sat up, deciding on a whim to check out the city. I had never been to hollywood before and I wasn't about to spend my time here locked inside.

It took only three rings of the phone for the guard to pick up. I figured if I was going to the city then it would be best to recall my escort. I told him my plan and he agreed to accompany me, then in the background came Michael's voice. "Is that Quinn?" he asked.

"Mhm" security answered.

"Where is she going?" he wondered.

"Hollywood Boulevard." There was some shuffling over the phone then Michael spoke directly to me.

"Can I come?" he asked me.

I hesitated a moment. "Of course... but Michael, that's a lot of people... is it safe?"

"We'll both need to take precautions... I have an idea. Meet me by the cars." Then he hung up. I set the phone back in place and quickly got ready to go.

We slipped out of the hotel in a black tinted van and made our way to Warner Brothers Studio. The driver stopped before a building that contained inside the wardrobe for a movie Michael had begun producing called Moonwalker. Looking around to ensure nobody was watching, the two of us snuck inside. As the door closed behind us, we were met with a janitor who had dropped the mop in her hands and her mouth hung wide open in shock.

Michael held his finger to his lips, trying to keep her from panicking and blowing our cover. When she finally composed herself, Michael walked around, browsing our selection of costumes. "Can we borrow some of these?" he asked the janitor, despite her not having any say in the matter.

I sifted through some of the costumes, looking for something to put one of us in. Suddenly, I was blinded by the shadow of his fedora which he had stuck on my head. I lifted the rim to see what he had found and watched him place an incomplete rabbit head on top of his shoulders. "His name is Spike." he explained, voice muffled behind the mask. I giggled a bit, straightening the mask out. He threw on random pieces he could find and left a note promising that they'd be returned. Before long, he was covered from head to toe with costuming and nobody would ever question it. This was LA after all, people walked around costumed on a daily basis looking for a bit of cash.

With a bit more digging, I was garbed in a black pinstripe suit that was far too big for me. Swallowed by the outfit and face covered by the tilt of the hat, I was ready to go. The driver had to stifle a laugh as we climbed back into the car in our costumes. We left the studio and found a secluded parking spot near the main street. By the time we got to the start of the Walk of Fame, we were already dehydrated. The dry heat seemed to almost drain the moisture from your body. We stopped for a quick glass of water, hiding in some corner so that Michael could lift the mask enough to drink.

When the glasses were emptied, we continued down. Michael was stopped a few times for pictures by curious people intrigued by his wardrobe, but otherwise, the walk was a smooth one. Nobody cared who was underneath. We moved slowly down the road, taking in the list of names at our feet. So many legends that had come before us, all leaving their mark in history on this small strip of land.

Michael stopped suddenly. He had found his mark. His star lay only a few feet away. Hovering around it like a satellite was a little boy dancing to billie jean with a boombox sitting on the ground. He moonwalked around the star, garbed in a sparkly black jacket and high rise black pants with white socks peeking from underneath. "Quinn, look." he beamed.

People flocked the star, taking pictures for memories later in life. All of them so entranced by the star and the name that engraved it... if only they had known he was standing there right beside them. How would they react? I wasn't sure we wanted to find out. Michael approached the boy, clapping loudly as the child danced. It was in this moment that I realized something different about Michael. Something that separated him from all other names on this road.

With his name written in stone, his legacy was secure. People would pass over his star decades after he was gone and remember. This legacy was his method of immortality. But the little star on the ground could never shine as brightly as the smile on the child's face as he danced to Michael's music. His legacy would be remembered in stone, but continued in the hearts of the children. As long as the children could find the love in the music, he would go on forever.

Michael sat on the ledge next to the mother of the child, earning himself a look of confusion. He didn't think to realize that it wasn't normal for giant rabbits to sit next to random people. Regardless, he managed to stay her worries. I watched the kid as Michael spoke with the mother. Her eyes widened at something he said and soon the pair of them moved towards the boy. He stopped dancing and looked at his mother. "This man says he has spare tickets to the Michael concert tomorrow and he wants to give them to you." she explained. Unbounded joy erupted in the eyes of the child and he couldn't help but to dance with excitement.

Michael motioned me closer and plucked the hat off of my head. With a silver marker, he signed the inside and handed it to the kid. "Bring this to the backstage door an hour before the show and tell security I'm expecting you. I'll give them a warning tonight and will hopefully see you tomorrow." he told the boy and his mother.

We were walking away when his mother took the hat from the boy and looked at the signature. With immense effort, she held back the panic that threatened her emotions, releasing the joy by dancing with her son. She stuck the hat onto the boy, even though it was much too large and fell over half of his face, and picked him up, spinning him around in excitement.

Michael and I vanished into the crowd and found our way back to the car. Once the door was closed, he took off the rabbit mask and smiled. "There's a test to find whether our mission on earth is finished." he stated as the engine spurred into motion. "If you're alive, it isn't. My mission on this earth is to change the world, and I'll do that one person at a time if I must. When I can put hope and love into a child's heart, I am given a promise that my work will live on forever; that my mission will continue on for eternity."

I smiled at him then, dreaming of the many promises of tomorrow. "Where there is love, you'll always be there." I grinned, quoting the old Jackson 5 song.

He nodded, gently taking my hand in his. "Quinn?" He paused. "After tomorrow, there's nearly a month before our next show... and I got to thinking... I was wondering... if you would want to visit Neverland."