Guardian Angel || Michael Jackson

Prologue

1969, August 11th
Daisy's Disco, Beverly Hills

"Who are you?" he asked me, his big brown eyes looking at me intently. I just realized that he looked ridiculously cute with all these ruffles and stuff on his clothes.

"I'm Angel," I said, leaning my back against the black car. "You're Michael, aren't you?"

His brows pulled together and said, "How do you know my name?"

"Of course I know," I simply said. "Everyone knows your name."

I crossed my arms and sighed, trying to remain calm and natural even though inside I was still freaking out knowing that I was existing in the year fifteen years before I was even born. I was trying hard to act and look cool in front of him. You can't blame me, he might be just a kid right now but he's still the Michael Jackson, though it's obvious that he didn't have an idea about what he'll become in the future.

The kid was looking back at me, curiosity was obvious in his eyes. He was such a skinny, little kid who barely reached my chest. Who would've known that this little kid in a colorful funny outfit standing in front of me was set to become the biggest superstar in the world.

How I wish I could tell you, kid Michael.

"I enjoyed your performance earlier," I said. "You did great."

He flashed a sweet innocent smile. "Thank you."

I suddenly paused for a moment, thinking what I was to do next. Grams told me that this was the first step to my mission: interact with the kid Michael. She also said about gaining the kid's trust or something like that, but how the hell should I do that?

"Do you have any friends?" I asked. I put my hands on my knees to level myself to his height. "I mean, aside from your brothers."

He thought for a second. "I had some back in school, but right now--"

"You don't?"

The kid nodded. "My father wants me to practice everyday so I don't have time playing with other kids."

Oh, yeah. Joe Jackson, that cunt.

"Let's be friends, then," I said, giving him the friendliest smile. I was actually not fond of kids--I mean, they're annoying as fuck--but this one's an exception. I said that not only because he was Michael Jackson, but also because this is my 'mission' according to Grams. Look at what that old woman is making me do.

"Friend?" he asked, face confused. "But I don't even know you."

I stopped. Oh. He's got a point.

"Forget it, get back to your car," I said. We had a pretty long conversation so that should be enough for Grams to take me back, right? "Your brothers are probably looking for you."

I motioned him to go and the kid turned around and started walking away. I stood there, watching him with my hands inside the front pockets of my ripped jeans.

After a few moments, unexpectedly, he stopped. He turned around, looked at me and suddenly said, "Fine. Let's be friends."

I smirked. Innocence.

"What made you change your mind?"

"You seem nice." His face brightened for a moment but then it became confused again when he realized something. "But you're older than me. And taller."

"Do age and height matter in friendship?" I asked and shook my head. "I don't think so."

His lips stretched into a wide smile.

"From now on, I'll be your friend," I said. "Could also be your guardian. Y'know, when someone does something bad to you, you can just call me."

He chuckled. "Like a guardian angel?"

I stopped for a moment and looked at the precious smile on his face. This kid's smile is gorgeous.

"Yes, Michael." I nodded and smiled at him. "Just like a guardian angel."