Pins & Needles (Michael Jackson)

{10} Vulnerable

Staring at his reflection, Michael felt utter pain. He looked at the big, white patch of discolored skin as he carefully squeezed some of the vitiligo cream from the tube onto his finger. As he began rubbing in the cream, Michael felt the feeling of guilt create itself inside of him. Although he and Celeste had already been moved in together for quite some time, Michael had yet to tell her about his unfortunate skin-disorder, and he didn't know when the time would be right.

Once that was completed, he reached into the bathroom drawer, rummaging through the piles of various items before he found his dark-pigmented makeup. He then opened the product as he used a triangular, white sponge to dab the makeup on his depigmented area. Panic soon rose in Michael, though, as he heard the sound of the bathroom doorknob turning, quickly throwing the product back into the drawer with ease.

"Michael, have you seen my—" Celeste started to say. Once she observed his obvious embarrassed state, she began interrogating him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Michael answered quickly, grabbing the cream from behind his back, attempting to shove it into his pocket without her knowledge. "I'm fine."

Celeste sensed his uneasiness as she stepped closer to him. "You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

"Of course. But, nothing's wrong right now."

"Michael—"

"I'm fine, Celeste," Michael said firmly, his tone serious from the use of her full name.

Celeste's expression showed her confusion at Michael's harsher tone. "Okay," she simply said. "If you're sure." With that, she turned to leave the bathroom with an aching heart from what Michael wasn't telling her.

He almost went after her, but nevertheless, Michael let her exit, still feeling guilt in the pit of his stomach.

Later that day, Michael found himself sitting on the bed as he continued writing a song he'd been perfecting for a while. After the thoughts that managed to make their way into his mind, Michael knew that doing what he loved most could cure the pain he was feeling.

Suddenly, a quiet knock was heard from the bedroom door, which halted Michael's writing. "Come in," he said softly. It opened to reveal a concerned Celeste, and she was soon seated on the other side of Michael. "You didn't have to knock. It's your bedroom, too."

"I know," Celeste stated, leaning her head against his shoulder. "But, I didn't want to disturb you, especially since you're writing."

"Don't worry about that," Michael assured her, rubbing her head softly. "Writing can wait." He then remembered the earlier events of the day, and the same guilt returned. "I'm sorry for what happened earlier," he apologized sincerely. "I shouldn't have snapped like that, not after everything you've done for me."

Celeste lifted her head up from where it'd been resting to look into Michael's honest gaze. "It's okay, Michael," she assured him. "I don't ever want to pry." She took his hand, placing a soft kiss on it. "So, don't ever feel pressured to tell me anything. But, just know that I'll be here whenever you decide to."

"Thank you," Michael said sincerely, moving his head closer to hers to connect their lips in a kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Celeste murmured. Her eyes shifted down to the small, black journal that contained the lyrics to Michael's most recent song. "What are you writing?" she asked curiously.

"It's nothing," Michael insisted, closing the journal. "Just a song."

Celeste beamed, sitting up straight as a smile made its way upon her face. "A song?" she practically squeaked, earning a giggle from Michael. "Now, you have to show me."