Broken Mirrors {Michael Jackson Fanfic}

Chapter 1: How Does It Feel?

--<AUTHOR'S NOTE> This story is not historically/timeline accurate. In this story his look/age is around Bad era, but it's set in a modern time. Songs released and event times won't be accurate. This is a fictional timeline. I hope you enjoy~🖤--

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     "What the hell, kid?! Really? My clean pants??" Athena rolled her eyes, heaving a deep sigh as she ran her fingers through her short curly mohawk. Every morning lately seemed to greet her with an unwelcome surprise. A bill in the mail. A man with a clipboard at her door. Uninvited visitors. Today's surprise was her youngest son, covered head to tummy in Cheetos dust hand prints. He also felt the need to finger paint the orange dust all over her clean pair of black jeans. Perfect. Just perfect.
    
       She bent down and scooped up the three year old, cautiously holding him away from her so that he didn't rub his hands on her. "How'd you even get to the  Cheetos in the first-...DAMIEN!!!" The only possible way he could've gotten the Cheetos (which she hid in the middle height cupboard) is if someone reached up there and got it for him. Someone like her oldest son, Damien.

      "Yes mommy?" He spoke softly, shuffling out of his bedroom with his hands behind his back. Athena could always tell when he had done something he wasn't supposed to. He looked nervous and avoided eye contact. His usually bright and happy brown eyes were already beginning to water and tear up at the corners. It was so hard to be upset with him.

     "Did you give Brandon the Cheetos from the cupboard?"

    "I… I was teaching him to share and say thank you."

     As if on cue, Brandon wiggled his little arms and repeated "Tank too! Tank toooo!" Which she supposed is his version of 'thank you'. Goddamn it. Now she definitely couldn't be upset with him. Instead she put Brandon down and squatted in front of the older child until she was eye level with him. "Next time, ask me if you can have the Cheetos. Please? Now, work on teaching your brother how to wash his hands." Damien wiped his teary eyes and nodded in agreement, taking his little brother's wrist and leading him to the bathroom. He means well… He just makes mistakes; like any 6 year old would. Any person in general, really.

      Things fell silent, aside from the running sink water, and Athena often took those moments to drift into her thoughts. Thinking back on the decisions that landed her here, a 24 year old mother of two boys. Currently self-employed, and honestly struggling to get by. She hated this. She used to dream about going to college, getting a job and going out with friends. Living in a cute little apartment with whatever boyfriend/girlfriend she would have at the moment. It seems life didn't have that in the cards for her, she thought. Instead she lived in a 2-bedroom apartment in a bad part of town. They've had a mouse problem for months that the landlord did nothing about, and sometimes she didn't eat so that her kids could have a well-portioned meal.

     Ding. Dong.

       The doorbell brought her out of her thoughts just in time to stop another depressing spiral. Once regret started to drip into her clear train of thought, it wouldn't stop until her mind was nothing but a thick murky swamp of anxiety and self-loathing. Fearful thoughts that this is the early end of her prime and she will forever live in this wheel of misfortune. She didn't need to end up in another drunken sobbing fit.

       She walked out of her 2nd floor apartment door, groaning with every step down the stairway. Who could possibly be bothering her at 8am on a Sunday? A Sunday!! This was her lazy day, damn it! With all the sass she could muster on 5 hours of sleep, she roughly turned the doorknob and pulled the front door open.

        For a moment, all she could see was the blinding sunlight beaming onto her glasses. Instinctively her hand shot up to block the rays, but the harsh light was soon blocked by the tall figure on her porch. Whoever this person was, they were way too bundled up for this kind of weather. They were dressed in a long buttoned-up black coat that ended at the knees. Black slacks and black dress shoes, with bright white socks that stood out against the all black getup. On top of their head was a very expensive looking fedora; you could 100% tell it wasn't one of those straw material ones you pick up at Walmart on sale. There were long black strands of loosely curled hair that hung down over their face, while the bottom half was covered by a black mask. Maybe a germaphobe? She'd only seen those masks on the news, during reports of some sickness spreading quickly in the city. One cough can hit like, 50 people or something. She didn't know the math. She felt grossed out even thinking about it.

    "Are you Athena?"

       The figure spoke in a soft, but masculine voice. It was an odd, but pleasant mixture. And very...familiar. She paused and then responded, trying to see his eyes through the dark tinted sunglasses he was wearing. "Yeah. Who's asking?"

      "Can we have this conversation inside? There's very sensitive information that shouldn't be overheard." He shuffled uncomfortably, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. As if he were nervous about something. Athena furrowed her eyebrows, bewildered that a stranger would just show up at her door and actually expect her to just let him inside her house. Doesn't he know what kind of neighborhood this is? She had children upstairs to think about. That's how people end up murdered and raped.

      Or maybe she was just a tad bit paranoid, and hardened by past experiences.

       The man raised his hands in a signal of surrender, and she saw the first bit of actual visible flesh. He had a very light complexion, but it was still somehow tan. Like a translucent pale-tan color. A tinted porcelain. His hands were rather large, and for a moment she couldn't help but admire them. His soft voice spoke up again, with a sincere tone behind it. "I would never do anything to harm you. You don't know that yet, but I promise you'll understand everything in a moment. Just- Please…" He almost sounded exhausted. Like a man already running on a low battery and trying to exert the least amount of energy possible.

       Athena sighed and stepped back into her doorway, letting the man inside. In the back of her mind she was cursing herself in every which way for being so stupid and naive. She didn't listen. Something about his plea reached her, or just intrigued her enough to entertain him. He shut the door behind him and started to step toward the stairs, but was halted by her arm sticking out in front of him.

     "This is private enough. Before I consider letting you into my house, I need to at least know who you are. At least give me that!"

       The man sighed, wrinkling the silky fabric of his face mask. He lifted his hand up to his face, pushing his fingers underneath the top of the mask as if he were going to pull it down. Instead of doing so, he held it there. "Do you promise not to scream?"

       Scream? Why would I scream? The anxiety began to create a thick foggy feeling in her chest. Breathing felt like trying to push air through clusters of cotton. Maybe he wore a mask because his face was horribly disfigured? Maybe he was some kind of well known criminal, and figured she'd recognize him on sight? The possibilities were endless, and each thought was scarier than the last. She swallowed hard and gave a silent nod.

    "Promise."

    "...I promise."

       Slowly, he began to peel the mask down and away from his face. Like peeling the back the velvet curtains on a stage.

      Then she saw him. She saw HIM.

       If she wasn't so deep in shock, she probably would've broken her promise and screeched. The only thing she could push out of her mouth, which was now gaping open, was a soft squeak. He raised his hand up toward her, most likely in concern, but all it did was jolt her and make her jump back. She tried to catch her breath, but the cotton cluster of shock in her chest wasn't allowing her any air flow. His exposed,  chiseled jaw visibly tightened as if he gritted his teeth. Did she frustrate him?

     "Athena! Watch-"

      His voice drifted into the distance, like background noise. The room began to spin, too fast and all too soon. And just like that, it all went black.