Streets of Gold - A Michael Jackson Story

Chapter 13 - Hot Fever

Michael

Friday August 22nd, 1986 - West Hollywood, Los Angeles

From the studio area, I look up to see Miya leaning over the balcony to watch me as I sing. I give her a wave, and she waves back before I slide on my headphones. The backing track we recorded earlier this week plays in my ears, and with the band on standby, I start to sing at Quincy's signal.

"Hey pretty baby with the high heels on, you give me fever like I've never ever known, you're just a product of loveliness, I like the groove of your walk, your talk, your dress... I feel your fever from miles around, I'll pick you up in my car and we'll paint the town, just kiss me baby and tell me twice, that you're the one for me..."

I sing on, occasionally looking up at Miya to see if she's alright. She gives me a smile as I wink at her before singing on.

"I never felt so in love before, promise baby you'll love me forever more, I swear I'm keeping you satisfied, cause you're the one for me... The way you make me feel, you really turn me on, you knock me off of my feet now baby, my lonely days are gone..."

Before I know it, it's time for our lunch break and I can finally check up on Miya. I practically run to her as she leaps into my arms, saying how great I was and how proud she is of me. I thank her before pulling away to give her another kiss on the forehead.

It's still burning up.

"What's wrong?" she asks after seeing my smile fade.

"Your head is really hot," I say sternly. "Are you getting sick?"

"Me?" she asks surprisingly. "No, I'm..." she drifts off and shuts her eyes, taking in a sharp breath before letting out a sneeze. "...sick?" she finishes her sentence in pure disbelief.

"That's it," I shake my head. "I'm taking you home."

* * *

Yonela

Saturday August 23rd, 1986 – Encino, Los Angeles

HUCHOO!!

Damn it.

It takes all the energy in me to turn over and reach for another tissue from my bedside drawer. After sitting up slowly to keep from worsening my headache, I position the tissue on my nose and blow.

"Bloody hell," I mumble to myself, my voice practically inaudible to begin with. I throw my used tissue into the dustbin beside me before throwing my head back into the ocean of pillows.

I'm someone who's prone to flu, but this cannot be normal. It literally went from bad to worse between lunchtime and dinnertime yesterday, and now I feel like I'm at death's doormat. My colds have never been severe to the point of losing my voice. Before closing my eyes, I take a quick glance at the clock on my bedroom wall.

06:39.

It's so late, but I can't get up even if I want to. Just as I start to fall asleep again, there's a soft knock at my door.

"It's open," I say, needing to scream in order to sound normal. I sit back up as my visitor peeks their head through the door.

"Miya?" says the sweet familiar voice.

"Morning, Michael," I smile.

"Did I wake you?"

"No," I say. "Come inside."

"Where did your voice go?" he asks as he closes the door. I shake my head and shrug as he places some tea on the bedside table before sitting down next to me. I can tell that it's green from the transparency of the cup.