Purple Thriller (Michael Jackson x Prince Fanfiction)

Maybe This Really IS It...

Prince POV:

The sounds of heavy music thundering throughout the corridors backstage was unmistakable. "Beat It" played throughout the arena, the chords of Eddie Van Halen would be shaking London to it's core in a little less than two weeks. This was the magic of my rival: Michael Jackson. 

I had arrived here mostly unnoticed, although security gave me a bit of trouble. I was technically Michael's rival, and he had apparently referred to me as a "meanie" at some point. Admittedly I did snub him back in 1987, when I no-showed our planned duet. 

I looked through the backstage curtain, all of the dancers that were on break were shocked by my presence. I was a bit surprised by my decision to come here. Me and Michael never saw eye to eye on everything. I was still a bit bitter about the James Brown incident in 1983. Michael humiliated me that night in front of everyone. But contrary to popular opinion, I never hated Michael Jackson. Though that didn't stop me from feeling a sudden urge to visit Michael. I had a gut feeling that I needed to be here for some reason.

Michael was dancing on stage with an armada of young adults dressed as thugs and Michael was stopping the groups from fighting one another. I had to admit the budget was impressive. If this was really Michael's last tour, what a tour it would be. 

I tried to see Michael's face, though that was difficult due to his sunglasses and my current position being behind him. But I could tell that he wasn't giving his all to this performance. Not that I blame him. Better to save that energy for the live audience. 

As the song came to an end, the cameramen and other producers were clapping. Michael smiled at everyone, giving hugs like there was no tomorrow. I couldn't help but roll my eyes a bit. Michael was always like that, interacting with everybody. I tried my best to do so as well, though my privacy was important to me too. 

One of the producers who was backstage alongside me, hurried out not long after Michael had given his last hug and "thank you" to whisper something in his ear. The smile faded from his face as he heard what I assumed was the announcement of my arrival. 

"Well he could act a little more excited to see me." I thought to myself. 

Michael thanked the producer before turning to my direction. I stepped out from behind the curtain, adjusting my suit jacket before doing so. My heels clicked onto the stage as I made my way over to Michael. I hadn't seen him in person in quite some time. He seemed less pale than the cameras made him out to be. His nose was bigger than on TV as well. Despite the heels, I still had to look up to see him. 

"Aw Prince!" he greeted me with a smile. "How are you man? It's been forever!" I shook his hand firmly before responding.

"I am doing well." I did my best to smile in return. I didn't hate him, but he wasn't my favorite person either. 

"So whatcha doing here? I thought you had a performance? Weren't you and your band practicing at Paisley Park?" he asked me, smile growing steadily smaller. 

"We were. I decided to come and say 'hello' to you. If this is your last ever tour, I thought it might be time for us to bury the hatchet." I explained. In truth, I had no idea for sure why I came here. I just had a feeling that I needed to be here. Although I wanted him to know I didn't hate him and that I was certainly not a "meanie." 

Michael smiled widely at my explanation. It was bizarre how much age didn't seem to affect him. Sure he didn't look anything like he used to, but you could've fooled me into thinking he's in his 30's instead of his 50's. We were even born the same year! Maybe those rumors of the oxygen tank he slept in were true...

"I'd like that Prince. I really would! Would you like to have dinner with me at my home?" he asked me excitedly. It took a lot of willpower to hide my smirk. His personality hadn't changed one bit over the years.