1984
Lynette "Billie" Ford
The weekend returned and I didn't need to help out at the record store with Vanessa this time. We finally opted to go out for the first time in weeks. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd stepped out for the evening and just let loose. The last time I wore some kind of tight dress, Disco still hit the airwaves and Vanessa tried to mimic Pam Grier's style.
Bass thumped loud enough to shake my entire body and Vanessa already beelined towards the bar. I rolled my eyes, knowing that we'd most likely need to call a taxi-cab before the night ended. It was better than nothing and we would rather be safe than sorry, of course.
While happily bopping my curls to those infectious rhythms, I noticed that folks around this place acknowledged me more and more. My mind jumbled with questions as I tried to figure out why in the world anyone would seem to care about anyone normal like me.
It wasn't until another song began to play that Vanessa drowned one more shot and zipped towards my direction. My eyes narrowed in the name of puzzlement and curiosity all at once.
"What's going on?" I questioned my tipsy friend. To be honest, Vanessa hadn't really decided to party like this since we graduated college. I rolled my eyes this time just to humor both of us. There was no need for bad attitudes now. I could only imagine when we would actually be able to spend a night out on the town like this again.
"Michael's back. Look up there." Vanessa whispered and pointed upwards so that I could notice the VIP section, which ended up cornering right above our own heads. I just didn't want to believe her this time. There was no way that he took time off that hectic "Victory" tour again just to find us. We weren't even close to being special like his own peers.
Above us, Michael mingled with other famous faces. Voices ringing around us both whooped louder and louder, signaling that the party going still prompted joy. I smiled once more, just allowing Vanessa to definitely enjoy her time out here.
"Let's go surprise him." I winked toward Vanessa and she couldn't help laughing for a moment. I completely understood why.
All the same, I just couldn't figure out how Michael could squeeze time out of his busy schedule just to chat with peers amid noise. Like I've said, the tour with his brothers seemed exhausting but wonderful for fans.
Vanessa stumbled her footsteps upstairs, but I held back my stifled laughter midway through. She had picked out these heels and had clearly misjudged her own drinking. I rolled my eyes once more and still thought of how we could call for a taxi-cab again.
By the time we both reached that VIP section, people already noticed me. It wasn't until I reached one last corner of the space that I recognized chatting alongside Lionel Richie himself.
In one sauve move, Michael excused himself from that conversation and took off his sunglasses once more. To be honest, it was as if he had already known we were nearby or something. I could only imagine what crossed his own mind right now.
"Hey. it's good to see you two again." Michael offered his simple word of kindness and opened both arms to embrace us like old friends. Tipsy Vanessa welcomed that gesture. On the other hand, I stayed calm as usual.
"It's good to see you too, Michael." I spoke up. Meanwhile, Vanessa grooved to the music as if Michael and I weren't even around her. Michael jokingly rolled his eyes, prompting me to giggle for a moment.
"I don't drink often." Michael lowered his voice, trying to change the subject.
"I do, but one of us might have to drive if cabs aren't available." I shrugged.
"At least you're being smart tonight. Some people just black out and don't remember the consequences." Michael seemed to lecture me for the first time. Vanessa and I weren't even drinking underage.
"I know." I stood my ground.
"Sorry about preaching. I'm just not like everyone else out here." Michael told me. Voices continued pushing their conversations once more. Serves passed us by with a brimmed tray of orders. Corks popped. Glasses chimed. Even cigarette smoke filled the air and wafted towards my nostrils.
"That's fine. You have freedom to make your own decisions, Michael." I offered truth to Jackson once more, but still noticed my friend Vanessa dancing just a few feet away from us both. Rhythms still rocked as the evening progressed and I couldn't help smiling as she grooved alone.
"Of course. I'm just trying to watch out for you." Michael grinned one last time before suddenly walking away. Just feet away, Vanessa pouted with glossy lipstick.
____
"I might've been tipsy last night, but Michael likes you, Billie." Vanessa sat on my couch the next morning as if we'd walked into therapy or something together. Laughing over my first cup of coffee seemed more and more delightful now.
"What do you mean? He's just chatting with me." I said, taking another sip from my mug.
"Ya'll didn't even talk about music this time. We were supposed to ask him about your demo tape, girl. At least I remember that detail." Vanessa then sighed for a moment while standing up to pour her own coffee from the kitchen.
"We were just talking about the fact that he's not really the partying-type. Stop bugging." I rolled my eyes, reaching over to finally cut into French Toast.
"No matter what you talked about with him, it's only a matter of time before something changes between both of you. Watch." Vanessa glanced over her shoulder.
I rolled my eyes once more.
