Michael Jackson Imagines

The Moonwalker and the Time Traveler (Thrad Era)

California, 2020

"Ms. L/N, I suggest you wake up for my class if you want to pass this course." I blink up at my professor, it seems that I fell asleep during history class again. "I'm sorry Professor Berkley, I was up all last night with my roommate tinkering all night." At that he softens, a grandfatherly look in his eye. "Oh Y/N, I understand, but if you truly want to be a history major, you have to stay awake! I will not simply give you a free pass while trying to adjust, just please, try to stay awake in my class." Standing, I nod. "Yes sir. I'll do my best." After this, I am dismissed and head back to my dorm room to hopefully catch a nap.

Kicking the door shut, I move to collapse onto my bed, but am blocked by whatever my engineering major roommate has built in the dorm for his latest project. "Seriously dude? Don't you have a lab for this kind of stuff?" I kick off my shoes and do my best to move around it, finally, truly collapsing onto my bed. I fall asleep quickly, hopefully revisiting the dream I had during class.

Lord knows how much later, I wake up to my roommate continuing to tinker on his project. Grumbling under my pillow, "Danny, don't you have a lab for this shit? Why do you have to do it here, I'm sleeping in classes because of this!" He sheepishly lifts his head up to respond. "Uh, well, I uh... It'satimemachine." Snapping my head up, I question "It's a what?" Once again he looks shy and guilty. "It's a, uh, Time Machine. Or at least that's what I'm wanting it to be. I'm still working on it." Well, I'm definitely awake now. "So, like, what's the problem?" Finally putting down his tools, Danny turns to me, "It should work. I ran the simulations and used the one that worked. It's just... not connecting I guess." Glancing at the clock, it's getting late. "Look Danny, I'm going to clean up some of my stuff. Go get some food. I know you haven't eaten yet." With a defeated sigh, Danny agrees and leaves the room. I slip into a pair of shorts and an old David Bowie tour shirt I had found at a thrift store. Picking up things here and there, folding abandoned pieces of laundry, I hum and bop around the room, dancing along to "Working Day and Night", practicing turns and isolation's to the beat. Taking a deep breath I prep and spin as fast and as long as I can, but my foot slips out from under me. I tumble to the floor, tripping over some cord. Oh well, it's probably Danny's "mood lighting", I plug it in and decide to check out the "Time Machine". "Ground Control to Major Tom! Prepare for lift-off!" I press random buttons, dicking around and typing 1984, then some other buttons. "Huh, sucks it really doesn't work. It'd be cool if you really could time travel." Once again I trip over Danny's junk on the floor of the project and slam into one last button I had yet to press. On the way down I hit my head, and the world went black as a whirring sound filled my ears.

Waking up, I find myself in a room about the size of mine, decorated much like my side of the dorm, with a funky retro feeling to it. "Danny, this isn't funny, I get it, I'm gullible for believing the machine was real. Now how the Hell did you change all this so quick... and get rid of the machine?" I continue searching the room for Danny, and realize that the sun had already risen hours ago. I may have been out for longer than I thought, and come crashing into a body. Awesome! Now I can really teach that boy a lesson for pulling that. "Hey, what are you doing in my dorm? Nice shirt by the way, I was at the Anaheim show a couple months ago. That's where you got the shirt, right?" I blink at the guy my age, still processing the amount of denim and hair products he has decided to use for the day. "What? Oh, uh, my shirt. Wait, did you say you saw him in Anaheim a couple months ago? What year are you from?" He knits his brows together. "1984. Are you ok? Did you get a bad hit or something? Do I need to call someone for you?" I space myself from him, the stimulation of this whole situation too much. "No, no I'm ok. What's today's date?" His eyes are still filled with concern as he replies with January 26th 1984, and that I'm still at University of Redlands, just 36 years before I attend. "Wait, January 26th, why does that sound so familiar?" I hear Beat It blare down the hall and I can practically see the light bulb above my head. "Do you know how to get to the Shrine Auditorium?"