Michael Jackson Imagines

Little Voice (Thrad Era)

1986

I had been called in to my manager's office the night before under the premise of meeting a mutual fan. In the lobby, I had to sit and wait for my turn with the man, and I wasn't the only one waiting for a meeting. Looking to my left, I was met with the dark shades of the great Michael Jackson. I struggled not to show my star struck emotions. Sure I was a celebrity now, but while he was touring the world with his brothers, I was watching his every move, dreaming of being a star like him. The dark glasses turn my way and I snap my attention somewhere else. I didn't want him to think I was staring. I fiddle with the tassels on my bag as I feel someone draw closer to me from across the room. I glance up at the intrusion of personal space and am met with the same pair of glasses for the third time in five minutes. My shock is evident on my face when his famous giggle bubbles up from his throat. "I didn't mean to scare you. You're Y/N L/N, right? I love your latest record. Very good. My sister Janet would yell at me to turn it off, said I'd wear out the record. It's very nice to meet you." He holds out his hand for me to shake and I do so almost gingerly. The receptionist calls out a "Mr. Jackson, they're ready for you." and the spell is broken. I sit and replay the short interaction over and over in my mind, still processing the fact that I met Michael Jackson, that Michael Jackson is a fan of mine. I almost don't hear my own name being called for my meeting, but I make my way to the correct office on time.

"You wanted to see me Jerry?" I sit in my seat, still as nervous as I was the first day I was signed. I worked so hard to get where I am, and am still too small to keep from thinking this could all disappear in an instant.

"Yes. I have a mutual fan wanting to meet you. If he offers dinner, an outing, take it. Let him pay. This isn't a business deal, so be relaxed. But, if this goes poorly, I'm sure this will reflect on your career. No pressure." I swallow and fidget, also myself who wants to meet me? Who is so powerful that they could ruin my career? What did they want to do with me?

I nod and agree to do whatever is suggested, interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Another manager comes into the room, looking to Jerry for permission to do something. I assume Jerry does, because the large man bustles into the room, another figure following relaxed behind. "Y/N, I am pleased to introduce you to the great Michael Jackson." I giggle a bit at the absurdity of it all. "Hello again, Mr. Jackson. What are the odds that we keep meeting this morning?" Michael makes a funny face, playing into my joke. "I'm not sure Ms. L/N. This would be our third today, so I give it about five more times before noon to be safe."

Jerry clears his throat a bit and dismisses us. "If you don't have any more questions, Y/N, you're free to go." I nod and gather my things, heading out the door to my car. When I'm out of the room and down the hall, a soft hand grabs onto mine to stop me where I stand. "Hey, Y/N, I was wondering if you'd want to maybe go to dinner with me? It doesn't have to be anywhere really fancy or anything. But I completely understand if you're too busy." I giggle and squeeze the hand holding mine. "I'd love to, Michael. Where and when should I meet you?" He looks slightly offended, and shakes his head. "No, I'm taking you to dinner. I'll pick you up. I know a nice restaurant that's private enough. Do you like Italian?" I nod, fighting the glee bubbling up inside of me. "I do, actually. What time should I be ready?" His thumb starts to trace patterns on the side of my hand, bringing my attention back to the physical contact. "Does six work for you?" I bring my gaze back to his big brown doe eyes. "Six is perfect." He gives me one last squeeze before releasing my hand to check his watch. "I've gotta be in the studio soon, but I'll be at your place at six. On the dot." As he walks away, I remember something. I call out to him "I forgot to give you my address!" He smiles over his shoulder and shouts back, "I'm Michael Jackson, I'll find it one way or another!"