You were sitting a Director's Chair, watching Michael prepare to film the short film for "Bad". He was wearing a black outfit with silver buckles, and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. This wasn't his usual style, yet you thought he looked so sexy wearing it. As your eyes scanned him from head to toe, he was looking down at his hands, adjusting his fingerless gloves. Even though you were bundled up in a coat, gloves, and scarf, the sight of him sent shivers down your spine.
Michael looked up, catching you staring and shivering. He furrowed his brows and smiled, walking over to you.
"Are you still cold, Y/N?"
He grabbed your gloved hands in his and rubbed them, trying to generate heat with his touch. You smiled up at him before leaning forward to kiss his cheek.
"I guess sitting still like this is making me cold again. I wasn't as cold when we were walking around the station."
Earlier that morning, everyone was exploring the subway station and trying different angles. Michael wanted to make sure he found the perfect place to film and capture the mood of the story. Now it was nighttime and you could feel the cold, New York air from outside.
"You can always come up and dance with me," Michael suggested playfully.
You rolled your eyes. "Oh please. You know I can't dance."
Michael raised his brows. "That is the biggest lie you've ever told in your life."
"No it's not. Compared to you, I--"
"Compared to me, nothin'. Don't compare your dancing to mine. You can dance."
"Yeah, yeah."
You tried to push him away, but he just grabbed your hands and pulled you into a kiss.
"You're gonna get yelled at. Go on, you've got to go back," you whispered, smiling into the kiss.
"Michael! We're ready!" A voice yelled.
Michael broke away before giving you one more kiss on your head. You smiled and put your hands against his chest, gently pushing him away. He jogged back to his position and turned toward the camera. The group of dancers behind him got into position, ready to perform the choreography for the camera. As you watched him, you folded your arms and hunched your shoulders, trying to keep warm.
When the director called "Action!", Michael immediately got into character. All of the dancers were in a line, scooting across the floor in a chugging motion, much like a train. You smiled, bopping your head to the beat. They were all so talented, you could watch them film all night.
The word is out
You're doin' wrong
Gonna lock you up
Before too long
Your lyin' eyes
Gonna tell you right
So listen up
Don't make a fight
The scene didn't go for long. They only repeated it a few times, making sure all the dancers looked in synch while filming it. When they were transitioning scenes, Michael stood off to the side, getting his makeup touched up again.
Karen Faye, his makeup artist, was laughing at him about something. When you glanced over at them, you felt a tang of jealously. Michael obviously loved you, and Karen was nice enough, but sometimes you felt like she tried to flirt with Michael.
