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1986 - Grammy Awards
KIM
My second album finally released, but I wasn't nominated that year. I'd titled this project "Return" and the media finally took me seriously as a musician.
Those earlier collaborations with Prince paid off. As if I never even signed with Epic Records before. As if Michael didn't represent the label at all.
In a way, critics proved right. Since Michael and I never officially collaborated on my first album, "Beginning" failed. I was just another pretty face on big label.
Now, dynamics shifted entirely. I'd booked countless television show performances and planned music videos by night. If cards played in favor so to speak, I could even find myself touring soon enough. There was only a matter of time.
It was a miracle that I could squeezed this illustrious ceremony into my life for one evening. Michael called me out of the blue to attend this ceremony. Out of respect, I accepted.
After one long and nearly somber phone call together, we stopped playing games.
I wouldn't get back together with him, but my ego surrendered childish behavior. We'd stand as cordial peers once again.
"First, I'd like to thank God and say thank you for choosing Lionel and myself to write We Are The World. I thank Quincy Jones, who's the greatest producer to me." For once, Michael didn't exude his bashful joy and wonderful grin onstage. I immediately noticed the sadness in his voice.
Usually, Jackson would seem much more excited regarding wonderful nights like this. I didn't know what to believe. Mike wouldn't even explain his subdued emotions during our limousine route together.
I didn't push for answers and stared out the window throughout traffic. My slicked curls nodded along to a record on the radio. Yet, someone reached to hold my hand and we squeezed palms.
A sniffle from Mike hushed toward my ears. My eyes couldn't even turn away from the window.
We'd kiss if I looked back.
_
Talking to Stevie Wonder cheered Michael up that night. Bodyguards and personal assistants ogled his awards out of protection.
A male guard helped Stevie walk away from us and Michael couldn't stop smiling again. In turn, I held onto my heart, star struck for once.
"Isn't he the best?" Michael stopped blushing long enough to order drinks. I picked my usual glass of wine.
Fellow superstars congratulated him once again. Servers winked or pointed to him in a tacky way between this dim lighting, The gestures for "cool" left us in stitches.
"I swear. Some people just don't know how to quit. If one more waiter winks at me, I'm gonna laugh in the parking lot."
Michael rolled his eyes. I simply nodded and giggled. Music shifted to a record I hadn't heard, but the Disk Jockey surprised all of us.
"Everyone head to the dance floor. We've got a world premiere coming right now."
A flute and piano kicked off the record and I nodded my head while walking around this beautifully draped table. Michael tapped his chin while trying to feel the music as well.
In that moment, I recognized the feminine voice.
I'm taking care of business.
Baby, can't you see?
I've gotta make it for you.
And I've gotta make it for me...
Brenda released a single and named the record "Work To Do." I could only imagine happiness within Prince right now. Those two probably danced to playback all night in the studio.
I even noticed thosr overlapping keys and mimicked hand gestures to the music. A server gladly offered us those ordered drinks. Michael snapped with his free hand, smoother than ever.
I followed his lead and trailed behind in this lace dress. The wine placed in my hand, never spilling. I felt suave. Confident.
"Sing, Baby Girl!" Michael yelled to the ceiling and acknowledged his "crush" after taking sips again. I stood right across from him while dancing. My thoughts didn't even pester Michael given that wine began flowing through my system now.
The same alcohol clearly influenced my groove. Thank God responsible chauffeurs would bring us back home that night. I'd probably end up with a hangover in the morning.
"She's amazing." I shouted back to Michael over the pulsing beats. Jackson quickly nodded in response and continued snapping. This man bit back a smile while facing me again.
"You look so good..." Michael still gripped the dwindling glass beer bottle in his hand held my own free palm to dance with the music again. I took the repeated compliment in stride, never questioning.
I'd guessed that the previous sadness found within Michael still drifted away because of alcohol. Fellow superstars hooped and hollered all over the place. I could only imagine what Brenda planned for the music video and other promotion.
My mind immediately considered viewing another wonderful excuse for B to show off her talented husband. Everything from a beach backdrop to that woman "playing hard to get" with Prince in some other lavish setting.
When the record finally stopped playing, this venue exploded with cheers. I'd congratulate Brenda with a phone call after leaving this party.
Rhythms flipped to a song I didn't know before. Michael grinned bashfully as if we hadn't even flirted earlier.
Our intended professional lines seemed to blur once more. I didn't know what to think, but wouldn't break any promises to myself.
Michael would only break my heart again.
