1984
Lynette "Billie" Ford
I moved out of my apartment after Vanessa's engagement party. David and V had been so wrapped up in spending time together or working that only my parents flew out to aid with house-hunting. It wasn't long before I actually found this quaint neighborhood. Palm trees lined the cul-de-sac, which had shown this nice contrast to my previous location. Less darkness, more sunlight. I could stare out large windows. Not as many cars parked up or down the urban streets. There was just no better emotion in the world.
I didn't even need to drive far and visit the record studio in public anymore. Shortly after we found my basement in this brand new home, Mom hired this team to create my very own space downstairs. I'd felt extremely grateful now. On the other hand, Dad just couldn't understand my mother spent all this money on me. I just sat back, waiting to hear the argument in one way or another. Dad fumed, even though I had dreamed of singing for years.
"Why can't you just find another record store job? You can't just waste all the money on music, Baby Girl. What about bills?" My father asked on the phone one night. I sat right downstairs in the basement, working on some brand-new material this time around.
"Dad, everything will be fine. I don't even want to work in the record store anymore. I might release my own album someday. Let me just focus on this career." I stood up for myself and Pop remained stubborn, of course. There was actually some point in time when
Dad would've given anything to accomplish his own dreams, but I was born in the midst.
"Don't make the same mistake as me. Please." Dad warned. I rolled my eyes, knowing that this could never be the last time he'd give out that typical lecture. Times were different back then and I knew better. At least I understood the difference between my dream and reality.
"I know, Dad. Just trust me on this, okay? That's all I ask." I smiled for him once more, even though we still couldn't see each other grin during this telephone conversation. I laughed as he chimed in, knowing full-well that he wanted to say something funny.
"Of course, but please stop sounding like your mother. My heart can't take it." Dad joked in one way or another at this point. I chuckled even harder than last time. His own voice echoed on that other line, signaling to me that we could finally change the subject now.
"Okay, then. Wanna hear my new records?" I calmed down, giggled with my father and prepped the mixing board just in case. Dad taught me how to function these consoles as early as high school. Despite our differences with my future, he knew that I wouldn't claim to be just another show-business fad.
"Before we start anything, please tell me you've got better sound quality on that equipment, chile. I didn't spend thousands on that new board for you to sound like the answering machine again. Your demo tape barely passed my test last time, remember?" Dad must've shook his head five hundred times by now. I just tossed back my curls, laughing out loud all over again. Happy tears even fell from my eyes at this point. Obviously, I loved my Dad.
"My quality is fine now, Dad. Please don't fly down here. Y'all just got back home, okay?" I rolled my eyes once more, knowing that I had sounded like Momma again. Dad and I settled the silly acts before long. I then cued up the music, ready to shock him as usual.
___
After hanging up with Dad, I allowed myself to leave the house. Just in case paparazzi followed again, I laid low to an extent and shielded with another hoodie. Of course, there was no other choice. I hadn't even put together my own security team just yet.
Once I turned up the radio and drove, Michael sang out loud as if airwaves had known that I wanted to hear him again. The song in particular encouraged me to smile. I tapped my fingertips onto that steering wheel, all while still carefully watching the road formed ahead.
Where did you come from, Baby?
And ooh, won't you take me there right away?
Won't you, Baby?
Tender Roni you've got to be.
Spark my nature, Sugar.
Fly with me.
Don't you know now is the perfect time?
We can make it right.
Hit the city lights.
Then tonight, ease the loving pain.
Let me take you to the max!
Vanessa loved "P.Y.T." and I always blushed like a teenager or something whenever this record started. To be honest, Vanessa would've squealed out loud in the passenger seat at this point, but I still kept driving, thinking of how happy she must've been after meeting Michael for the very first time.
It wasn't long before I finally showed up to the restaurant. This area didn't look as swanky as show business might plan, but I didn't mind wearing the hoodie in this place. Guests filled the patio space and I sat down alone, now facing one of the only empty chairs left.
Just a few minutes after I ordered my meal, someone caught my eye.
I should've known. My thoughts said.
Michael had shown up here, but I didn't know why. He must've frequented this place long before I moved to the area or something. Other celebrities hadn't noticed my entry this time and I had felt somewhat normal again.
Jackson then peeked from across the outdoor entryway and stepped down to walk through. Bodyguards surrounded enough to still give him breathing space in one way or another. At least his own team understood that this location seemed to be one hot-spot for superstars.
"Hello, stranger." Michael finally perked up once he noticed my face. Despite my hiding getup, I stood from this table and walked around to hug him. He hadn't taken off those famous Aviators yet, shielding himself away from orange tints of the lowering sunset.
"Thank goodness we have places like this. I can't even hide at home anymore." I sighed out loud and Michael sat across from me in the previously empty chair. Another waitress had scribbled his drink order without missing a beat. I'd never seen such fast clockwork before.
"What are you doing here?" Mike asked, finally clipping those Aviators onto his dress shirt. I completely understood the question and played along. Other voices chimed with joy all around before long. I'd never forget the amazing smile that now reached his lips this time.
"That tour's left you out of the loop, huh? I live here now." I smiled, arching an eyebrow.
"Since when?" Michael offered his Gary accent.
"Listen up and find out." I smirked moments later.
To Jackson, this would be a story for the ages.
