Journey

Void

Surprise flooded his system at the end of the first leg of the tour. He couldn't believe that he had made it back to the states in one piece, all the times that he's pushed through the pain of fatigue and hunger were about to end in just a few months. His bones vibrated at a mere daydream of rest and the comfort of your arms.

They were dress rehearsing for the first show in the Madison square garden. Things were smoother now as changes to the style and songs were placed after the need was seen during the rough start of the tour.
They finished quickly after about 3 hours so that Michael could have his snack of celery sticks and water. He took a short 20-minute nap before he was placed in Karen's chair for makeup. She did all she could to make him alive but everyone knew it was useless. They could only pretend.

"You look so much better now that you've lost the weight," she chided, pressing powder into his forehead.

He nodded unfeelingly.

She looked down at him with a glittering smile, "I also see that you haven't called your girl in a while," she ran her hand through his hair pretending to fix what his stylist had just finished, "such a shame," she breathed.

Michael's eyebrow twitched at the not-so-hidden joy in her voice. His eyes left the mirror flicking up to her, she could almost feel the heat from the blue flames that resided constantly in his brown eyes. She recoiled instantly, moving back and looking at the now interesting floor waiting to see if he would start yelling for her blatant disrespect. After a moment or so she sighed. Giving a small smile when it didn't come, she looked up with hope only to be pinned by his still-narrowed eyes.

Everyone had chills around Michael. They all walked around him as if he was a caged animal that was ready to strike when provoked even at the smallest of terms. He was winding up to snap and that fume came to a head later that night.

While performing he spotted a friend of yours in the front row. He knew that it was your best friend, the one whom you depended on and loved as if she was your sister. She was also someone who welcomed Michael with open arms disregarding his status to treat him like family. He tried hard to hide his shock at seeing her because he knew the look on her face. He saw her eyes clear enough to see her mood shift from excitement to confusion to disbelief and finally anger.

He did his best to not make eye contact but then his heart spasmed at the thought of you being in the crowd too. He could hear his breathing pause as everything moved in slow motion. The stage director was yelling in his in-ear to tighten up his act as he felt his body run on autopilot, never missing a note or beat. But his head was not there even as the lights dimmed and he stumbled backstage coming face to face with the very person he was trying to run from.

"A-Anissa..." he breathed, his voice shaking. He knew that she was there to confirm what she had spent two hours watching. The feeling in the dressing room suffocated the staff as they watched your best friend regard him with the atmosphere of a tigress.

"What the fuck, Michael," she touched his arm, pulling back fast when he flinched at the contact. "I'm calling her.." she pulled out her phone pressing the speed dial.

Michael weakly grabbed at her, wheezing when she stepped back with a look of concern, "No...please," He could feel a sharp pain run a sprint throughout his body before the room started to spin. He grabbed the nearest thing to him pulling his drummer down with him as he slumped to the floor, vision pulsing to black.

A couple of hours later his head pounded to the rhythm of the monitor. His eyes remain blurred as the bright lights send sharp pains to his already pounding head. His hazy body told him that he wasn't backstage if anything the white fluorescent lighting gave that away. He moved his head to the left, groaning as his body croaked in defiance- sore from the concert and his body hitting the floor. He sighed knowing that the team likely brought him there for an IV and he would need to get up to catch his next flight.

"How are you feeling?" a soft voice rang out.

His hands started to shake as his eyes focused on the figure in the corner of the room, his throat contracted harshly when he finally saw the person he spent the last few months dreaming of...

"My love..." His voice croaked out, sounding every bit broken and lovestruck as he looked.

His eyes burned with hot tears when he saw the bags under your eyes contrasting sharply with the redness of your eyes. You had been crying, you were still crying and trying hard to be discrete as you used a tissue to dap at your cheeks.

"Michael," Your whisper staring at the man in the bed silently checking to see if he was the same man you let leave months ago. "What is this?"

You watched as he struggled to sit up, his weak state was like a dagger slicing at your heart. Walking to his side you quickly help him get comfortable, fluffing his pillows behind his back while you clench your teeth to hold in the sob that was threatening to leak out. He was so small now, his body even feeling weaker as you gently lean him back. "Postpone the next few shows,"

He sits up rapidly holding his head as the movement made him dizzy but his health was secondary as he grabbed your wrist pulling you close, "WHAT?!? NO!!"

You stand back up, pointing to the monitor, "Michael, you're in the damn hospital for malnutrition and bruised ribs. What the fuck do you mean 'no'?"

"That doesn't matter... I have fans. I have a team and they need me. They need Michael Jackson." His hands fisted the covers.

"Michael," You touch his face, bringing his attention back to you as you sit next to him on the bed, "Your fans are concerned about you according to your fansite plus I'm sure they would like to see a healthy Michael Jackson rather one whos pushing himself too far." You give him a hard smile thinking of the details you've heard from his dancers and the band. "And your team is the reason you're like this in the first place. I think they need a stern reminder of who exactly signs their checks."

Michael lowers his eyes, his shame taking the back seat as you needlessly straighten his covers. His voice rings out sharp as steel pulling a gasp from your lips, "You know nothing. Leave my business alone."

Looking at him as if he'd grown three heads you grit out, "Your well-being is my business. You're withering away, look at yourself,"

He looks to the side with his eyes closed, "...They're helping me."

"THEY ARE KILLING YOU!" You turn his head back with tears threatening to spill. The dark anger in his eyes makes you pause.

"They are helping... I'm better now."

"THE DOCTOR SAID YOU WERE MALNUTRIONED!" A sigh was breathed to calm the anger forging inside you leaving only a hollow and broken sound as you spoke, "This is better to you?"

"WELL, AT LEAST IM NOT FAT ANYMORE! THAT'S ALL YOU'VE EVER DONE FOR ME BUT THANKS TO THEM I CAN MOVE BETTER! QUICKER! THE FANS LOVE IT!" He panted, his eyes holding yours in a silent war. The door slammed open as his manager and Anissa rushed in to see what was the matter.

"Listen to me-"

"NO NO...no... I can't leave them..."

"Michael," you respond gently.

"SHUT UP!"

His sharp demand takes you by surprise but you know that he wasn't going to change his mind soon, those people brainwashed him too well and now all you can do is wait.

Giving a curt nod, you stand up and smooth out your clothes, "Alright. Well then, I hope you have a good tour. I'm moving back to my penthouse,"

"Y/N, wait.." He sighs holding his head in his hands.

Seeing his small body in distress brought you a pain you had not felt in years, but the thought of seeing him fade away, the pain of watching him struggle to keep himself together, would be too much. "I'm not strong enough to watch as you disappear before my eyes therefore I'm removing myself from the picture. I wish you happiness and health, Michael,"

Before he could respond you speed walk to the door, pulling Anissa with you as you made your way out of the VIP area of the hospital and down the hall of the elevator. Even with a few feet of distance between you, you can hear Michael screaming for you while his so-called team tries to persuade him to mind his location. Anissa was quiet beside you and you were thankful that she was willing to let you have this silence, knowing that a single word- a single question would break your defense and the floodgates would open. The world was dimmer now. Your soul a void as the elevator doors opened.