performing your new song stirs up old emotions over your favourite torridly toxic ex-boyfriend. and just when you think things are over... are they? | 3.9k words | masterlink
pairing: bad & dangerous!michael jackson x singer!reader
info: modern day au!! memories of toxic relationship (arguing, yelling), harsh language, second chance romance, inspired by "willing and able" by noah kahan
a/n: first time doing an au! apologies for this being so incredibly sad, oopsie... requests are open!
"ms. y/l/n, are you ready to go? you're on after commercial," a young pa said to you, his head sticking through the door to your dressing room.
you nodded, looking at him through your vanity mirror. behind you, your hair and makeup artist laid the final pieces of your hair, leaving it looking perfectly manicured yet natural.
following behind the pa through the dark and cramped walkways between sets, you were excited to witness the inner workings of such a production like snl. the show had created several vivid memories for your childhood which made your first time being apart of it so deeply special.
people with headsets and binders of papers ran all over creating a frantic but necessary energy. warm yellow lights hung from the scaffolding of the hallways, illuminating just enough of the floor to not trip over the mess of cables.
as you approached the stage, you saw another pa standing with your acoustic guitar in hand. your fingers tingled, pre-emptively feeling the sting of the strings. the stage was barren, just a mic stand and a spotlight. contrasted to your set up for your first song earlier in the night, full of bright lights, vivid colours and dancers with energetic choreography that matched your fast-paced song, this set was much more stripped back.
"we're so excited to hear you again," the other pa said, handing you your guitar.
the strap curled around your shoulder and back, the cool wood resting against your body. it was such a familiar feeling that was able to calm you even in such an exciting atmosphere. sure, you'd performed concerts in front of thousands of people before, and of course you got nervous from time to time, but there was something different about these performances tonight. you supposed that your nervousness was maybe rooted in the unspecified number of people who'd be watching this broadcast live? or maybe it was the idea of so many people watching you perform a song you'd never sang live before because of how much pain it brought you.
you stood behind the mic stand and fidgeted with the guitar pick between your fingers. the song you were about to sing was written after your relationship ended with the world's biggest star. michael jackson.
the two of you had met at the 2022 grammy awards. though you weren't nominated, you attended to show support for your fellow musicians and to celebrate the music of the year. not only was he nominated for album of the year, michael was scheduled to make a special performance, highlighting his new album. his performance at the event was the first time you'd ever had the chance to watch him live. and he was just as electric as everyone said he was. sure, like the rest of the world, you'd listened to his songs before, but that night you really got to experience and live them.
his performance of 'man in the mirror' had moved you to tears. not that it made you sad, it made you excited to witness someone do what they were put on this earth to do. michael commanded the stage with both vocal performance and stage presence. it also helped that he was really easy on the eyes. your soul felt drawn to him in ways you couldn't explain.
following what was a devastating award ceremony for michael, you left before the after party started so you could find him. you caught him just in time, right before he stepped into his car to leave. though he tried to hide it, you could see how visibly disappointed he was. he didn't want to appear cold, especially not to such a pretty woman like yourself.
he stayed long enough for you to introduce yourself and commend his performance. he was grateful that you could see and appreciate all the hard work he'd put into the album and his performances, even if the grammys couldn't notice. when he eventually excused himself and left, michael identified a special connection he'd immediately felt for you. it was more than attraction. it was understanding and genuine respect.
because of this, it came as a surprise to no one when michael had started calling you up and inviting you to spend time with him. admittedly, being seen with the world's most famous pop star was intimidating at first. it brought you a lot of attention, both of the wanted and unwanted kind. but you realized that it was just a fraction of what michael had been experiencing since he was a little boy. if he could persevere, so could you. and in fact, you chose to persevere for him, to prove that the world wasn't all that bad.
after a couple short months, michael had finally confessed his feelings for you and asked you on a proper date. you knew how hard it had been for him to make friends, so you commended his bravery in confessing something that you knew could've very possibly ruined his closest friendship in years.
initially, michael had been the most romantic and honest boyfriend you'd ever had. his understanding of life in the music industry made things so easy. when you couldn't find the words, he knew what you meant. having someone by your side who was equally as devoted to the craft as you were was so relieving.
until it wasn't. then the fights began.
the lights dimmed around you as the spotlight on the host grew. the director pointed, indicating they were live once more.
applause broke out from the audience in front of you. your spotlight came on and you began strumming. as you sailed through the first verse, your eyes bounced across the audience, trying your best to pull yourself out of the emotion that these lyrics brought back.
you remembered writing this song and being both so angry at michael for everything that happened while also grappling with the fact that you wanted him back. the fighting was, of course, awful. it took a toll on the both of you. but you couldn't help but miss it just a little, because despite the bickering, at least he was still in your life.
"and we stay up and fight 'bout the childhood lie that we both had the courage to leave."
your heart shattered at michael's words. he just laughed awkwardly and picked at the carpeted floor where the both of you sat cross-legged. you tightened your grip around the cold beer can to distract from the prickling in your eyes caused by tears.
"i've never really told anyone about that before..." his voice was small. frail.
"how could your dad do that to you?"
michael shrugged. "there was nothing else for him to do. i wasn't being as good as i could be and he'd have to let me know."
"shit, baby. i'm so sorry." leaping up from your seat, you crushed him in a hug. the motion caught him by such surprise that he toppled over under your weight.
you continued to squeeze him while sprawled out on the floor. "it's ok." it wasn't. you could tell that emotional scar would haunt him for a long time. "i'm grown now. he can't touch me."
you didn't comment on how his words sounded more like a self-affirmation and less like confident fact.
"i'm willing and able. if you wanna kick this rock around, if you've got a bone to pick with me. if you've got a flag plant it in the ground. oh, i'll stay here 'til morning." your eyes squeezed shut as you imagined what he'd been up to since you walked out on him for the last time.
"oh, we can fight like we used to fight. bony-limbed, red-faced, and teary-eyed. under the glow of the tv light, i'd be willing and able."
"what the fuck do you mean you extended the tour?" you turned to face michael, propping your hands on your hips. you wanted him to look you in the eye as he explained this one. you wished for just once that you and michael could enjoy his rare day off without fighting. you'd made it to the evening, making dinner in the kitchen when the bomb was dropped.
"it's not really my choice, they just think i need to do more promotion." he said it like it was the most simplest thing ever.
"i've barely seen you for almost a whole year, michael! you barely come home to take breaks, and when you do, you're gone before i'm awake the next day. how is this fair to me? it feels like i'm dating a ghost," you said exasperatedly. there were only so many times you could fake a smile and pretend to be ok with michael disappearing for months at a time.
"don't say that, y/n. you know i love you and i'm trying to be here for you." he shook his head. "this tour isn't just hard on you, ok? i've been suffering too." you dropped the wooden spoon in your hand, long forgetting about the pasta you were stirring in the pot.
"yeah, i know! you've cancelled shows because of laryngitis, not to mention this is the hardest you've ever pushed your body. i tell you to stop, and you don't. i tell you to schedule some breaks in, you don't. i tell you what you're doing is dangerous and could really hurt you, and you tell me it's not that deep. why is it a crime for me to care about you?"
"i never said it was. you just don't understand how expensive this tour is and all this travelling is. i have to pay it off. i've survived worse in the past, so i don't need you telling me what's best for me when you're not even at my shows." michael rolled his eyes, clearly disappointed that you didn't take him up on the offer to tour around the world with him. he left the kitchen, thinking that was the end of the argument.
you followed him into the living room where the tv was blared some made-for-tv sitcom. "do you even understand how hard it is to feel like the second choice to your music? you forget that i've got a career of my own that i'm working on. and despite that, i still make time for you. i can't just pack up and forget my life here for a whole year to go on tour with 'mr. international pop star'," your fingers wagged in sarcastic emphasis. "and what, to just stand back stage and watch the same show every night?"
"when are you gonna realize that you don't have to worry about your career while you got me. i'm working like this to provide for us." now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "i'm the most famous singer in the world right now. do you know what that means? i have to do all these shows and visit all these countries to keep that title. it's what i have to do, ok? i didn't think it was an ultimatum to ask you to come to support me at the biggest shows of my life."
"you're such a fucking asshole," laughing with disbelief, you ran your hand through your hair. "i do not exist to be your little cheerleader," every word was emphasized by a jab to his chest. "you know i'm proud of you and i respect what you do, but don't for a second think that i exist solely to lift you up on a pedestal and make you feel like the god you want to be."
it wasn't until michael left the house with a slammed door that you realized the burning smell from the kitchen.
"look at you leaving again, it's all you know how to do. go ahead, take the last of the drinks, the world belongs to you. they all say you're a light, all i see is a shadow."
michael had left again, claiming he needed air to cool off. you couldn't even remember what the fight was about. the silence just felt so much nicer. the tv's volume was low but just loud enough for you to hear what was being said. you flicked through the channels, not looking for anything in particular, just doing anything to get your mind off your boyfriend.
the idea was great in theory. until you switched to a news channel that was talking about michael. his picture broadcasted on the screen. it was a snap of him on tour, surrounded by dancing children, smiling bigger than you'd ever seen before.
despite how much you wanted to, you couldn't find it in yourself to change the channel. your eyes stayed glued to the screen as they flashed through a handful of images of him hugging fans, greeting royalty, visiting hospitalized children.
the ever generous and altruistic michael jackson.
"bullshit," you mumbled as you remembered the piercing sound of michael's screams just moments earlier.
"and i'll see you again in six months when you need your next song." your mood lightened ever so slightly at that line. it was one that a wildly vengeful you had written into the song upon remembering michael using it as a jab in an argument over the contents of your songs. reflecting back on that version of you made you happy to realize how far you'd come and how much you grew.
the second chorus came and went. you knew there wasn't much left of the song and you just had to push on for a little longer. push through the replays of your darkest moments. you strummed the guitar harder, amplifying it's melodic chords to ignore the tears that began to fall despite your eyes still being squeezed shut.
"oh, i wish you could know me. and i wish i could know you much more sometimes."
your phone was ringing on the nightstand next to your bed. at this hour, there was only one person it could be. you swiped to answer the call, "michael, why is this the first time i'm hearing from you in two days?" your exhausted voice was palpable through the phone. you sat up in your shared bed with michael, resentful of the empty space beside you.
"i'm sorry, we've just been so locked in on the album. i'm coming home right now."
"you say that every time and yet you don't bother to change anything to make things better for us. for me."
"well, you know how i am. i have these ideas and i can't sit still until they're out. there's at least 100 songs that we've created, developed, or scrapped so far. you don't know what it's like to have this kind of restlessness. it's not something i can help."
"i'd understand better if you'd just fucking talk to me, michael!"
"you know i don't mean to do this to you. i just don't have the time to sit around and talk when i have to make this album. when you hear it, you'll know that this was all worth it." he sounded convinced of his words but you weren't so sure.
your silence was all the answer he needed. the rumbling of the car's engine was all that came through the phone.
with a defeated sigh, he said,"i'll be home soon, we can talk then."
"i've got a shoot tomorrow morning. i should get some sleep."
"what? why didn't you tell me about it?"
"i texted you about it three days ago. you left me on read. you just didn't want to remember cause clearly you have more important things on your mind," the last sentence was said with pure sarcasm.
"i'd remember reading that. i swear i didn't know."
you scoffed and hung up the phone.
"wish i could do nothin' with you. sit in the yard while the day dies, leave it all on the table." memories of moving into neverland with michael flashed before your eyes.
it felt like just yesterday when he asked you to move in with him. it was the happiest day of your life.
after your boxes had been unpacked and you two broke in your new mattress, michael chased you around the green grounds of neverland. it was the first time you'd experience stomach pain from laughing.
the two of you ran around, explored, and climbed until the sun had begin to set. since you were already outside, you asked to sit on the ground, relax for a moment and watch the sun set. michael plopped down on the long blades of grass, leaning back on his hands while his legs were kicked out straight in front of him. you joined him on the ground and laid your head in his lap.
the absolute bliss you were in was incomparable. beautiful streaks of orange, pink, yellow, and purple painted the sky. every once in a while a bird would soar over head. and the backing soundtrack to the gorgeous scenery was michael softly humming a song you didn't recognize. he was 'channeling' as he liked to describe it.
it wasn't until you turned your head slightly to stare up at the man sitting with you that you realized it was the first day in a while where there wasn't a single fight. not even a tiny scuffle. his lips were pulled into a faint smile, his head bobbing slightly from side to side at whatever beat was in his mind.
maybe the two of you could overcome whatever plagued your relationship. maybe brighter days were ahead. they had to be, right?
you had to remind yourself that the song was almost done. you had to hold off the impending breakdown that you felt like a rain-filled cloud hanging above you until you left the stage.
"and i'll say, 'i love you,' and mean it this time. say, 'i'm sorry for everything else'. if we found a way to the other side i'd be willing and able." when you'd written those words they seemed more sarcastic. like the kind of thing you'd hope you'd one day believe but in the moment felt so far from it.
now, with years between you and your breakup, things felt different. you did finally believe those words. once upon a time you loved michael for his passion, his vision, his bottomless well of love. and now... with the way you felt your heart pounding in your chest, you realized you still did love him for all those things.
it took years of distance and retrospection to realize that you did love him for how he tried to make things work despite how stressed out he was. neither of you were perfect, mistakes were clearly made, and regrets were had, but maybe, just maybe, a second try at things would go differently.
after michael guilted you about not watching his tour, he gave you an incentive. he'd give little signals that only you would know about. anytime you saw them, you were to recognize that he was thinking about you in that given moment. the signal was three quick nods.
in an effort to make amends, you promised him you'd try to watch more of his shows. as soon as that microphone hit his hand and his feet started to move, you remembered why you fell in love with him to begin with.
between being mesmerized by his stage presence and looking for the little signal, you found yourself watching streams of his performances at all hours of the day. most frequently, they came during 'i just can't stop loving you', 'rock with you', and 'the way you make me feel'. but really, they came throughout the whole show. you didn't realize how much of his brain you occupied, even when performing in front of thousands of people.
after michael's tour ended, you had a short one yourself, promoting your newest album. it was nowhere near as global, big, or long as michael's but it was yours and that's what made it special. interspersed were songs you had written about him and your relationship. about the passion, the heat, the understanding, the united souls. in those moments, you sent him the little signals. he never missed them, making sure to send you a text about your performance after every show he watched.
you finally reached the outro. it was just a series of repeating lines, each more impactful and emotion-filled than the last. your message was clear. but there was one thing you could do to make it even more so.
"i'd be willing and able," your eyes cracked open for the first time since you started singing. "i'd be willing and able," the audience was enraptured by your emotion. "i'd be willing and able," you saw someone in the front row wipe tears from their eyes.
your gaze found the camera. you nodded three times, looking down the barrel of the camera. "if you're willing, i'm able."
as the last strum rang throughout the room, the crowd now on their feet applauded you loudly. people whooped and cheered. a sad smile crossed your face and you waved to the audience.
the lights dimmed and the red 'on air' light shut off, indicating a commercial break.
you walked off the stage, pulling the leather guitar strap off your shoulder and handing the instrument still warm to the touch to the pa who waited with his hand out. as soon as his hand wrapped around the neck, he ran off find its case.
the first pa who walked you to the stage from your dressing room appeared beside you. "are you ok?" he offered you a tissue.
"y-yeah. just never sang that song before. and now i remember why," you laughed awkwardly, taking the tissue and wiping away the tear stains that streaked your face.
"you did a great job. probably the most moving performance we've ever seen here."
you thanked him and followed him wordlessly back down the flashlight-lit hallway to your dressing room. the door closed behind you and you dropped down into an arm chair with a heavy sigh. when you selected that song to perform, the last thing you expected was the emotional rollercoaster that you experienced over the course of the last five minutes.
silently, you sat in the chair with your head in your hands, letting all that emotion wash over you. in the moment it seemed like a good idea. you hoped he wasn't watching and maybe he never would.
but then you remembered the insomnia. he was probably awake in his bed, either reading a book or scrolling through tv. maybe it was wishful thinking, but you hoped his radar for you, like yours was for him, was still on. after all, you just confessed on international television your willingness to try again with him.
even if he hadn't watched it live, word would spread. your relationship and its aftermath were very public. people speculated who the song was about when it first dropped, and though you nor michael ever confirmed anything, your fanbase was certain about the song's inspiration. and after that stunt you just pulled... you didn't even want to turn on your phone.
your phone. your head whipped up as your attention was caught by the buzzing of a new notification. it felt like air was trapped in your throat. you couldn't breathe.
with a forced sigh, you pushed yourself off the armchair and approached the vanity where you'd left your phone. the screen lit up with a tap of your finger.
