Journey

Flying Thoughts

It's been too long... My bad 😬
This is a little short but enjoy.

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Four months went into getting the production together.  He spent it running like a machine but it was worth it. Michael wasn't completely satisfied but he was pleased enough to see his notes being put to use as it was the only time anyone listened to him. All that was needed was for him to satisfy himself in practice but even he doubted that would happen. Instead of feeling more alive and full of energy, his moments were sluggish. Of course, no one else says it but he knew what was happening. He knew that he was slowly deteriorating.

Michael looked out the window of the plane taking in the fluffiness of the clouds as they soured through the sky. They were on their way to Moscow, the first stop of the tour and he was more anxious than usual. One, there were a lot of things he and the crew needed to fix musically before the first show and there was not enough time to fix it all. Two, he hated flying, and though he wasn't by himself that didn't make him feel better as he was less alone and more lonely. It was an odd suffocating feeling, and three, he only weighed 140 pounds right now and he knew you were gonna freak. He was sure that dropping this much weight this fast wasn't normal, however, the praise he was getting told his mind otherwise. He was just worried about how you would react.

Luckily, he's been really good about keeping his mouth shut over the phone. He's a little proud of his acting skills getting put to use but disheartened to say that his skills have been doing him wonders against you. He's even perfected the art of rerouting questions. In fact, you had stopped asking if he ate altogether and was now just assuming that he was eating and being healthy. Michael even became good at faking his tone so that even you couldn't pick out if anything was wrong.

The only time he's slipped was whenever he said he missed you.

Without fail his voice would choke up, breaking as if his soul was clawing its way to the surface in order for you to save him. He swallowed down every plea that got stuck in his throat. He wanted to be with you so badly.

He gave a bitter smirk when an Iliad quote flashed before his eyes.

There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover's whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad

Yet here he was, stuck on a flight that was moving even further from you and feeling exactly like that. Feverish with lovesickness and be on the cusp of going mad.

A tap on his shoulder pulled him from his darkened dreams,
"Michael I hope you enjoy this little break because you start your training again when we get to Moscow," Josh, his personal trainer, said playfully.

Michael gave a fake grin and nodded. He didn't know why they were still making him train but he was beyond the point of questioning it. He just wanted this to be over. He was dying to have a real meal and sleep.

Once while singing, I Just Can't Stop Loving You, his new backup singer slipped him a small cookie. He almost cried when he found it later in his pocket. Silently promising her some extra cash when he saw her again. He guarded his pants like a starved paranoid wolf all day until he could hole himself up in his room, sitting on his bed he stared at it for what seemed like hours. Envisioning how good it would taste, he wanted to make this last so each bite must be controlled but that ended quickly after he took his first bite in worship. Michael ate like a desperate man at sea, something that he would regret later as he spent that night in pain rolling on his hotel bed. His stomach rejected the cookie after living off celery, cucumbers, eggs, and water for weeks.

His mind was reeling with a hurricane of thoughts. He felt like he was spiraling into a dark hole. He didn't want to admit it but he really felt like he was losing his mind and he knew the only thing keeping him from crumbling was you and the need to be perfect for his fans. That's why he couldn't lose you. This play that he's created has to go on, you can never learn what was happening. Michael planned everything to perfection. He would tour and try his best to keep all news of the tour away from you- something that was easy to do, he had connections after all. Then after the tour was done, he would simply gain it all back and present himself to you like the lovesick fool he was. You would smile brightly as he returned and shower him with the love and attention he craved from you then you two would live out the dream. The plan was foolproof. He even worked out the timing and fantasized about how you would look and what you would say when you saw him. He swore he could feel your arms around his neck, you're body pressed against his own and he inhaled your comforting scent.

Michael sinks into his chair losing himself in his daydream, trying hard to grasp onto the small paradise that was his mind. But truth be told he was mentally exhausted even cringing as he laid his hands in his lap. He hates his body more than ever and now his own touch seemed foreign. He missed his plush thighs and how his tummy bulged out just a little, he missed how you used to rub his aching body with lotion after a long day and how you fed him. He missed how tight the clothes used to be. He couldn't even wear the clothes you packed him anymore, all his favorite clothes- favorite memories- were taken from him and thrown away by his too-happy trainer and a jackass of a manager. Gods, it was like the world was trying to take his happiness from him. He snarled as he thought about how even his clothes were controlled by them. He couldn't even be creative with that, all he had left was his music but come to think of it, they wouldn't even let him perform the ones he wanted.

'Fan's choice,' they claimed. Michael knew his fans better than anyone. This wasn't fans' choice, this was just a push for his album. Company choice.

He sighed as he swore that each day he was growing more and more numb.