Saving Michael Jackson

Germany Bad tour

The world starts spinning.

Not just in my head—everything.

Voices blur together. Faces pass too quickly. The clothes... the music... it all feels wrong. Outdated. Like I've stepped into a place that doesn't belong to me.

Did I just... travel back in time?

No.
That's impossible.

"Can you please help me?" My voice cracks. "I—I don't know why I'm here or what I'm supposed to do, I'm just—"

"Come," the woman says gently. "Let's go inside."
She leads me into a small café.

I sit there, hunched over, staring at the table. My hands tremble. My heart won't slow down.
I don't belong here.

"What's your name?" she asks softly.

"A—" i stop
Something in me says: Don't.

"...Claire," I lie.

"Alright, Claire," she nods. "How long have you been kidnapped? Do you know what day it is?"

"June... 18th?" I guess.

"Close. It's the 19th."

One day?
That doesn't make sense.
I swallow hard. "What year is it?" I ask.

She frowns slightly. "1988."

My breath leaves my body.
"No..." I whisper, covering my mouth.

It's real.
I'm not where I'm supposed to be.

"I'm sorry," I choke out, standing abruptly. "I can't—I can't do this."
I rush out before she can stop

I walk blindly down the street, then trip.
Pain shoots through my knee as I hit the ground.
"Ah—!"

I look down and see blood.
Real blood.
So this isn't a dream.

I push myself up, wincing. People stare. Of course they do—I'm barefoot, wearing pajamas, looking like I crawled out of nowhere.
I am nowhere.

Then I notice a crowd.
A big one.
People gathered in front of a large building, holding signs and pictures of Michael Jackson.
My heart skips.
I move closer.

"Is... is he staying here?" I ask someone.

The girl turns to me, beaming.
"No! It's his concert today! We came early so we can be close to him!"

Oh wow, a concert... today.

"Everyone back up!" a security guard shouts. "Come back in an hour!"
But no one leaves.
They're glowing. Excited. Alive.
And I understand why.
Because standing here... in 1988... means one thing.
He's alive.

I turn away... I should leave, i mean i have to leave.

But then—
Something on the ground catches my eye.
A ticket.
I pick it up.
A real concert ticket.
No one notices.
No one claims it.
"...Is this a sign?" I whisper.
My hands tremble.

"If I don't explore this... I'll never understand."

The entrance door is unlocked.
I slip inside.
It's empty but huge and silent...
The stage stands in front of me like something sacred.

I walk toward it slowly, my heart pounding.
This is where he'll stand.
Where he'll sing.
Where he'll—

"Yeah, you got that, Bill."
I freeze... that voice?

I turn.
And there he is.
Michael Jackson..
Standing on stage with a towel around his neck.
He stops when he sees me.
"...Hello?"

My throat tightens.
He looks even better than in pictures. Softer. Realer.