Pairing: Michael Jackson x make-up-artist!reader
Summary: After getting a position as one of the make-up artists of a project lead by Michael Jackson, you can't help growing closer with the young man.
SFW: Strangers/colleagues to friends, real life events from behind the scenes of thriller (some are fictional), KFC date at the end
Note: This was inspired by @appafanclub and their Michael series. Since Thriller is my favorite Michael era I've decided to write about him. Divider is from @cillmequick
“Shh! Will you keep it down?!”
For the past ten minutes you've been trying to shut your best friend, Sarah, up after you had told her about your new position after leaving your old one. It didn't help being in the middle of the local mall, with people turning around with every word she said out loud.
Sarah slaps a hand over her mouth, grinning from ear to ear.
You only wanted to invite her to not only tell her the news but also to go shopping together. It was something you both always did, tell each other new things in your lives while doing the thing you love: spending money on useless things.
“It's nothing new.. just doing makeup for music videos.”
You slap her shoulder while shushing, frowning at how loud she was being.
“Sorry.. uhm.. Nothing new?! You're gonna work for THE Michael Jackson!”
“So?! You're.. omg.. you don't get it. That's Michael Jackson we're talking about! ‘Billie Jean' Michael Jackson!”
You can't help eyeing the floor, the gazes of passerby burning through you painfully. Your friend had always been rather.. blunt about her volume, not caring if she was fully declaring her whole sex life to the world or whatever this was.
“I know who he is, Sarah.” You murmur under your breath, the heat raising to your cheeks.
“Seems like you don't since you're not even reacting the same way ANYONE would!”
“He's a human like you and me..”
Sarah's mouth falls open, eyes widening at the sheer audacity you seemed to possess. Her hand finds your shoulder, dramatically shaking her head in response. “You my friend.. still need to learn a lot about the world.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes in retaliation. Without warning her, you get up with the shopping bags you had filled today.
Maybe you shouldn't have told her after all. You loved Sarah, but with the way she reacted you weren't sure if she'd make an even huger fuss about it.
On the way home you couldn't help thinking of things that could go wrong. What if you embarrassed yourself and be fired on the spot? This wasn't the usual crew you worked for and only got in because your father was friends with Rick Backer, someone who inspired you to get into the makeup business yourself.
It would only be a one time thing to see if you were cut out for such big things.
You were so in thought that you mentally blacked out until you were laying on your bed, the shopping bags leaning against it.
Just three more days. Three more days until the big day. You were so excited internally that you were starting to doubt yourself.
Your thoughts get disturbed by the shrill ringing of the blue trimline sitting on top of your wardrobe. The moment you take the call you knew it wasn't any one of your friends or family members.
The other end was quiet for a moment until a voice of a middle-aged man cut through the silence. “Yes, hello. Is this Miss L/N?”
You swallow a lump, your other hand shaking as it comes up to hold the phone. “Yes..? Yes, this is her.”
The line is filled with certain sounds of paper being worked through before the man clears his throat. “Here’s Frank, just want to inform you to be at the address I had sent you over mail at about eight in the morning. That's okay with you?”
Your eyes widen, a grin even visible in your tone appearing almost instantly. “O-Oh! Uhm.. Yes, of course! I'll be there, thank you so much!”
This was serious now. You were gonna work and meet Michael Jackson.
Usually you woke up at around seven if you had to be somewhere work related, but your excitement took the better of you and you were already awake at five.
Getting ready was the most stressful part, needing to look absolutely flawless and professional for your first day. You had decided to wear that pencil skirt that you had only worn once for your graduation nearly a decade ago. Surprisingly, it still fit after all that time. You finish off your outfit with a simple white blouse.
Now what to do with my hair?
You think of doing a simple ponytail, but that wouldn't do. Since you still had some time you decided to go with a half teased up look, almost making it seem like a lazy beehive your mom loves to wear.
Before you leave for work you take a banana to go, saying goodbye to your parents who were teary eyed at how proud they were. It's not everyday your daughter goes to work for the biggest pop star not only in the US but also the world.
Outside you put on your favorite flats, which are lazily slipped into so you could run for the bus, which was packed as always this time of day. Fortunately for you, you were able to find a seat. The set was pretty far away from home, about a fifty minute drive. You were pretty tired, not being able to sleep properly all night does that to one.
With all your might you push yourself up to rummage through your purse and pull out your walkman. Listening to some songs was always relaxing, especially the ‘Off the Wall' and ‘Thriller' album.
Shortly before your stop you wake up from a small power nap, very glad to haven't missed where you were to get off.
The wall to the studio wasn't far, the streets packed with the people living in the neighborhood, mostly residents flooding the entrance to the studio. You and many other people who looked like they were trying to squeeze through the masses, hoping to get a glimpse of the security so you could tell them why you were here.
At first they were sceptical, not believing you to be working for Michael, but when you showed them the mail you had received you were quickly led through.
The halls weren't any better than outside, people rushing through to find where they were stationed at. You were slightly panicking,not knowing where to go or what to say to even find your place. Just as you were about to go looking for Michael's manager a loud voice calls through the loudness.
You look up and see Frank Dileo, the manager and an acquaintance of your father, the sole reason you were even here. Next to him stood a younger man, darker complexion, kind eyes and he looked like he was stuck smiling.
“Thank you all for coming. Most of you already worked on bigger projects, but this one will be the biggest of all.” Frank looks over to Michael, who's grinning from ear to ear but the way he was shifting betrayed his nervousness. “Today we will only start with looking around the studio where I and some of my colleagues will show you around.”
Frank smiles, looking over at Michael and another man beside him. He had a full beard and glasses, a woman clinging to him. “May I introduce you to John Landis and his wife? They were the sole reason for the idea behind this project. They'll give you directions. And over here we have Rick Baker. He'll show the ones around working in the makeup department.”
John introduces himself as well, smiling over at Michael.
“You still wanna say something, Mike?”
Michael shifts, cheeks reddening at the thought of speaking in front of this crowd. Ironic. He was an amazing performer, singing in front of even bigger crowds.
“Thank you.. for coming!” He looks around the room, raising his hand to slightly wave. “I hope we all get along and this project will become one of the best!”
And with that you all had the go, walking to your designated positions. You didn't know where to exactly,so you find John, who was talking to Michael and his manager Frank Dileo. Rick not far behind.
“U-Uhm..” Your hum makes the four men direct their focus on you, Rick smiling at the familiar face.
“Y/N!” He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into the conversation they just had. “Vampires or Zombies?”
The four of them look at you, expecting a reply about what seemed to be the small conversation they just had.
“Michael insists Zombies are more fit for the music video, but I personally believe Vampires feel more ghoul-like.”
You laugh awkwardly, hand coming up to the back of your neck. “W-Well.. Zombies?”
Michael was just smiling, not fully meeting your eyes yet trying his best to keep himself engaged in the small talk. He nods, also awkwardly chuckling at you suddenly joining them.
Rick dramatically sighs, laughing at the sheer audacity before focusing back on you. “Gentlemen, may I introduce my friend's daughter, Miss L/N? She's here to help the make-up crew.”
Frank extends his hand, which you take with the biggest smile on your face to hide how nervous you were. When you turn to Michael, he hesitates but does the same eventually. His hand was just as sweaty as yours, betraying how he was feeling the same as you.
“Shall we?” Rick's voice guides you back to what was more important. Work. He begins to show not only you, but also the other make-up artists around what was about to be your ‘office' for the time being.
It was very exciting to be so close to Michael, knowing that so many people would kill to be in your place. He was just walking in front of you, occasionally turning his head so you could see his side view.
As John and Rick were explaining multiple things about what makeup you'd do on not only Michael but also multiple other actors. After everyone had left to look at the products and multiple prototypes of John's work, the man himself had pulled you aside.
“Y/N.” He smiles. “I'm glad you took this chance. Rick told me so much about you.”
You smile nervously, nodding your head as you didn't know how to react exactly.
His gaze moves up and lands behind you, lips quirking up into a grin. When you look behind you there he was. Michael was shifting on his feet, not meeting your eyes once again. “Michael, good that you're here! What do you think about her helping me with your makeup?”
Michael's eyes immediately go up to John, only quickly going to you. He nods, smiling at the idea.
John pats your back before leaving you both to it, probably wanting you to have the chance to speak to the King of Pop himself.
Well, you didn't speak. It was awkward. You wanted to leave or let the floor swallow you whole.
You gulp as the silence continues, making you kind of sick and embarrassed to be here. Other fans would probably tackle him, smothering him with kisses and love bombing his very being. You? You were too awkward to do so, and that would be highly unprofessional.
Did he just tell you his name? Everyone knew his name. Was he really as shy as you? You out of all people?
You can see him mentally facepalm himself, which he laughs off as he always did. That sweet high pitched laugh that caused his cheeks to grow faint dimples.
“Y-Yeah, I guess you do..” Just as you did earlier, he scratches the back of his neck. This felt like the worst thing in your life yet also the highlight of it.
John quickly returns, saving you from the embarrassment of your life. The day continues with only being shown around and chatting with what were about to become your co-workers.
Michael himself was bombarded with what seemed to be fans that held themselves back on a respectful level. You didn't want to make him even more overwhelmed than he already looked to be. So it ends with you not talking to him again for the day. He was so busy and you had to first get familiar with your surroundings to work.
When the next day came where you were supposed to help John with Michael's makeup, you were thrilled (pun intended) to finally be useful.
It was early morning when you arrived, now not in your fancy get up to be more comfortable while working. You had decided to wear your high-waisted jeans with a striped shirt tucked into it. Just as you enter the studio you take off your denim jacket, hanging in the wardrobe where everyone else kept their belongings.
The place was packed, but you couldn't see Michael anywhere. Today you'd do the makeup for the first scene with Ola Ray, playing the girlfriend of Michael's character, where they'd be in the middle of the woods. Something simple.
“Ah,Y/N!” You weren't even fully there yet and John was already at your side, pulling you in by the arm to where some people were already sitting. “Thought you'd never arrive! You know what to do. Michael only needs a bit for his rosy cheeks and Ola the full meal, but she's already being worked on.”
John leaves you standing dumbfounded and when you look back you see a few artists already working on Ola. Michael was sitting in the other chair, a magazine on his lap. With the way he was reading it seemed to be interesting, but you knew it was just to cover his shyness. You did that too.
Your nails pick at your cuticles, thinking of a way to approach him. Funny enough Michael was just as nervous, thinking of what to say once you arrived. John had already informed him of you doing his makeup, which got him all giddy on the inside. Talking to you for the first time gave him a feeling he'd never felt before, something other than shyness.
Michael snaps around like someone had set off an explosive nearby. He lets out a breathless chuckle, mumbling a greeting that could've been overheard by anyone.
“I'm here to do your makeup.” You walk to the shelf that kept all the stuff you needed, looking through it to find some foundation and prepping stuff.
Michael was very quiet as you did what you were paid to do. Everytime you came close to his face, be it to put on primer or to use the foundation that looked like a second skin, his breath hitched. Those rosy cheeks were quickly hidden behind the brownish liquid, making him look flawless.
“Alriiiight..” You pad some powder over his finished look before putting away all the important essentials to proudly study your work. “Done!”
You turn him in the chair so he could stare into the mirror, which was filled with pure adoration. “Wow. Looks amazing!” You smile at his words, quiet to let him take it all in.
“I-It fits with your costume.” You point out the outfit he was wearing, which looked straight out of a high school drama. He looked absolutely handsome.
“Thank you..” He smiles, looking at you through the mirror which seemed easier than to turn around.
Ola was still sitting in the styling chair, being powdered by a woman looking almost ten years older than you alongside many others who were doing her hair. The girl was stunning, the white ribbon in her hair finishing everything off perfectly. They looked like a match made in heaven with the way they were matching.
You crouch down to one of the drawers that was marked with ‘hair products', earning a glance from Michael that burns through the back of your head, just like that weird burning feeling in every single part of your body. “W-What are you doing?”
Your body was rooted in place, making you unable to get up or even look up. With shaking hands you fish out the hair gel and comb before using all strength in your body to get to your feet, legs trembling.
“J-Just..” Your words betray you so you just hold out the products, a pathetic smile on your features. “..Hair.”
Michael's eyebrows shoot up and frown right after, one side of his lips tugging up as if he felt pity for you. He just nods, turning back to the mirror to let you work. Your hands shake while styling his already beautiful locks, applying gel to the sides until you have what you wanted.
The whole process plus makeup takes about 45 minutes give or take. In the end both Ola and Michael look absolutely stunning, the costume pulling everything into perfection.
From what you've heard they had practiced a lot for the small movie. Dancing whenever your shift had ended and just practicing everything they needed for the final product.
What wouldn't you give to see both in action? Especially Michael.
“Guess it's time to shine, you guys.” John's voice makes all of you look back to see him stand there alongside Frank, Mike's manager.
Everyone starts to murmur as the two main stars leave to go filming. You, of course, have to join them for any touch up they need. The shoot takes you to the woods a bit further away from the studio.
The whole set is packed and Michael alongside Ola sits in a car a bit further away from where the cameras stood.
They play the scene perfectly after John begins filming. You were almost jealous of Ola, who was sitting in that car with everyone's celebrity crush. At least you were more level headed about it.
The next scene takes place with both walking in silence. They talk a little until Michael confesses to Ola's character and they hug.
The scene ends as Michael crouches down in pain after telling Ola's character about a secret he was hiding, which had to be filmed on another day due to the makeup and special effects not being there where they were.
“CUT! Nice job, you guys. Michael, will you go to Y/N and Rick so they can help you with your contact lenses?”
You were already prepared, having taken the contact lenses out of their container to hand to Rick.
“Will you look up for me, Mike?” The man asks in a soft tone, matching the one the young singer always had with everyone around him. “Y/N, tissue.”
You quickly take one out of your pocket, handing it to Michael so he could dry the tears that escaped. With the yellowish half-catlike eyes he almost looked the part of the werewolf transformation that was to take place in the first part of the product.
Then it's back to acting, even if only for a few seconds. Michael was good in everything it seemed. Singing? Check. Acting? Check. What couldn't he do?
You watch in awe as the short time is being used as intended until John cuts the scene off so Michael could get the prosthetic fangs from you.
He stops right in front of you, laughing at something Ola had said. You look through the things you needed for today's filming day before finding the fangs. You hand them to Rick, who already had gloves on to put them into Michael's mouth properly.
You awkwardly stand beside the two, not knowing what to do with your hands. Michael adjusts the fake teeth, smiling and laughing like a child who has done something silly. You couldn't help sharing his joy and when Michael's big eyes stared up as if he had finally found someone to joke around with other than John.
Michael continues acting, slipping up from time to time but mastering it in the end.
Lunch? Oh, right! You've been out here some time now that you didn't even notice that it was already noon.
You found yourself a quiet corner a bit further away from set to pull out the lunch your mom had packed for you.
You were glad that everyone went about their break and wouldn't bother you, you wouldn't want it any other way.
You let out an audible sigh as you felt someone sit a bit further away from you.
That voice. You immediately recognized it.
You look up to see Michael with a wounded expression that looked like it wasn't an act from him. The piece you swallowed just now stuck in your throat, making you cough violently. Michael giggles and quickly hands you a pack of juice he had just opened.
You hesitate, but end up downing a few gulps of the sweet liquid.
“Orange juice.” His soft voice drags your eyes back to him. “It's my favorite. If you want water I can get you some.”
“No!” The word comes out sharper than intended. “I-I mean.. No, thank you.”
You both sit in silence once again, staring down at the juice carton between you two. The sandwich in your hands felt extremely heavy in your shaking hands and after thinking for a second you decided to split it in half.
He only smiles, reaching for the bread with the faintest “thank you” he could muster.
You both sit in silence. Again. This was so awkward for the two of you.
“So..” You clear your throat. “.. Are you ready for later?”
With later you meant the werewolf transformation. It was something where even you, a makeup artist, couldn't fully help. You were more on the natural or full face model makeup side rather than the artistic theater one. Still you didn't mind helping.
“Oh..” Michael traces the bread with his fingers. “Yeah, I guess so.”
You laugh, even if nothing was even there to be all happy about. This whole thing was way too awkward for your own goods.
Your eyes dart around to find something to talk about. A book beside Michael was what made you sink back onto your seat.
Michael looks over to where you were looking mid bite and covers his mouth while apologizing for his full mouth. “Uhm.. that.. sorry. That's my personal notebook.”
You nod, trying to not look like you were daydreaming once again. His whole person was very interesting and listening to him even more so.
“You wanna see?” His eyes sparkle almost childishly,that smile brightening his whole complexion.
“But I thought it's personal..”
“Oh, I don't mind showing you some drawings or lyrics.”
He scoots closer, keeping a respectful distance while flipping through the pages. You watched in awe as he showed you multiple drawings of different things, be it family members, people he worked with or fantasy beings of his own. One that stood out the most was the one with what looked like a young boy with a pointy cap.
Hesitantly you reach out to graze your fingers over it, lips agape at how beautiful his sketch was. “Is that..?”
“Peter Pan.” He grins once again, bashful at being asked about the one thing keeping sane. “I've loved his story since.. well since I can remember.”
You listen intently to his words, legs crossed over the other. Instead of glazing him like everyone around him did you just..are there, something Michael seemed to need. Someone who's there and doesn't start complimenting his every move.
Both of you have a good time, laughing about whatever comes to mind.
You find out he's been a huge fan of everything people label as childish. What you both had in common was your love for animals, especially the more exotic ones.
You giggle at the name, finding it amusing that he had so many animals that were mostly kept in zoos.
“That's literally the coolest thing ever.”
Michael bashfully looks away, hands tightening around his notebook. He's always been a little different, shy and lonely while people all over the world adored him.
This small conversation with a girl was the first step to being more confident, because you weren't even trying to glaze him with sweet words.
You were chatting the whole way back to the studio over things that weren't even important to the project.
“That's crazy. She sent you a knife?!”
“Yeah… pretty scary to be famous.”
The stories Michael told you were both scary, funny and wholesome.
“What'd you do with the knife?”
“Give it to the authorities, what else?”
“Uhh..” You dramatically frown. “I dunno.. throw it away? Send it back?”
Michael laughs. “What would you do if a crazy girl sent you a knife and told you to kill yourself?”
Your mouth falls shut and you had to think for a moment. “Uhm.. Well..”
Michael's expression just reeks 'Told you so' energy as you both walk side by side. His arm clutched his notebook to his chest. He was still wearing the clothes and make up, which would be taken off sooner than later once he's back in the studio to get the werewolf mask done.
“I actually have a really old copy of Peter Pan at home, do you want it?” You stop at the crossing as cars drive by.
“Uhmmm..” You break an awkward laugh. “Yeeaaaar? It's old..?”
Michael huffs a chuckle, leaning into your view. He looked like a Cheshire cat. “Old?! Girl, I got the 1950s edition.”
You scratch behind your ear, heat raising to your ears. “Uhm..Like..1920-ish? It was my grandma's.”
His eyes widen and he's immediately more talkative than usual. Topics that interest him, mostly Peter Pan, make him a completely different person.
He's been speaking so much that he didn't even notice them already arriving in the studio, where it was time to continue with the process of the project.
It was a very very very long process, with many artists surrounding Michael that you felt out of place.
You watched them rub foam rubber all over his face until all that was left of his chocolate skin was his upper body.
The artistry of this type of makeup got you standing there in awe, watching everyone work around Michael, whose face was fully covered now.
“Y/N.” Rick's voice snaps you out of your little daydream. “Tissue.”
What was it with you and tissues today?
After they had taken off the hardened foam rubber off of his face, Michael cleaned any residue. His eyes find yours and he laughs at the ridiculousness of the moment.
Your brows furrow as he cleans his nose. “You okay?”
Rick and the others do a great job on the mask, something you couldn't fully see due to not being able to help at all. You weren't talented or at least educated in this field.
Michael couldn't help laughing.
At what, you might ask? Everything.
That man was a ray of sunshine and didn't stop smiling once since your little talk earlier.
Seeing how full the room was you decided to leave it and retreat to the break room, where your walkman was waiting for you.
Your hands feel around the table the moment you sit down, since you forgot to put it in your purse earlier. Instead your fingers graze over the cover of a book.
It was a copy of a children's book.
The writing on it reveals it to be Peter Pan.
This has to be Michael's.
Inside the book the initials ‘MJ' make your assumption become reality. The pages were already worn out, probably from flipping them too much. He did say his version was from the 50s.
Soon you had forgotten why you were here to begin with, casually reading through what used to be your own favorite kids book.
You began to see patterns of Michael's behavior,which was very similar to Peter's.
You sit there for about two hours until your shift ends. You could've gone home, but instead you read the whole thing.
The exit was packed with people leaving and paparazzi waiting outside, somehow knowing Michael was inside. Going home was gonna be pretty traumatizing from now on, something you didn't think of when you took the job.
This moment made you feel deep respect for Michael. As if you didn't have that already. This life must be exhausting.
You were glad to be home sooner than later.
But unfortunately this was gonna be your life for the next few days.
The days did fly by like it was nothing, but one thing made it more fun than makeup.
You didn't understand why he wasn't surrounded by friends, true ones. He was the funniest guy you had ever met!
Every lunch break, makeup sessions and even times you got to work too early to see him practice his dancing was filled with both of you talking about life. Not Thriller, not his career or his popularity. Life and jokes about whatever came to mind.
“Nice.” You grin up at Michael after he had finished his training with the others who were cast to be zombies.
The sweat was dripping off of him, one droplet finding its way down his nose. He was downing cold water for once and no orange juice.
He flops down beside you, panting crazy. “You think so? My footworks lacking today.”
You shake your head, frowning at his words. “Lacking? Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you respectfully to shut up.”
Michael laughs, nearly choking on his water. You were kind of proud to get him to laugh so easily.
“I mean it.” Your face softens as he calms down, eyes truthing for once. “You're amazing. No one can pull it off like you.”
Michael looks away, his lips tugging up in his usual gentle way. Everyone on this set always made sure he was happy, but you did it in a way he couldn't explain. A breath of fresh air coming close to it.
You gasp, making Michael flinch at how sudden it was. He immediately sees a light bulb appear over your head, but he doesn't question it even when he watches you look through that purse of yours.
“I got you the book you wanted!”
You fish out the oldest piece of literature he'd ever seen. The pages were slightly yellowed, worse than his own version. You could see his breath hitch as he reached out to touch the fancy cover, which had been decorated with what looked like sewing magic.
His dimples reveal themselves once again, the glint in his eyes brightening as he looks at you. “Thank you.”
“Oh.. you're welcome.” Heat radiates from your cheeks and you almost forget about something else you wanted to give him. “Wait.”
You hand him two more books and he was charmed immediately.
Alice in Wonderland and its sequel.
“They're yours. I rarely read and they're more than safe with you.”
Michael doesn't know how to respond. His hand twitches against the cover of Alice in Wonderland. “I can't take it.. it must still mean a lot to you.”
His eyes are overly glossy as they meet yours. “Thank you.”
Your shy smile returns and your cheeks burn as he lays a hand on your shoulder. “Y-You're welcome.”
He pats your shoulder before going back for rehearsal,absolutely mogging everyone.
Today was the day you'd get into more action. Michael had already told you a whole lot more than Rick or John. The Zombie makeup would be with you helping around the whole cast. There would be a lot of work to do, which is why so many makeup artists were all around the studio.
It was hell. Stressful. Exhausting.
The first part was very easy, considering the music video continues in that theater not far from the studio. It was just Michael in light make-up, hanging out with Ola's character. But the rest? Oh boy.
Rick did all the outlining while you did all the painting, which was a very pale shade of green. It took hours to get him both into costume AND makeup.
You were truly at the end of your senses when you had to help with the other cast and their face paint. This made you hesitant of going out and watching them all perform, but you still did for Michael's sake of having someone other than directors and fans around him.
The whole dance was filmed not far from the studio and it was absolutely phenomenal. Residents of the neighborhood were watching Michael like hawks, especially the fangirls that were screaming nonstop.
John had insisted on filming the making as well so cameras were pointed at you as well. It was messy.
Watching Michael dance was something straight out of a fairytale. It was calculated and perfect. Bloopers did arise, but mostly coming from the cast around him.
At first you thought filming wouldn't take longer than three to four hours, but you thought wrong.
Twelve hours enduring screaming, chaos, fixing makeup. It was a lot. But it was fun nonetheless.
You sigh as you rest in one of the chairs behind the cameras, chugging down the third bottle of water.
Michael was talking with John about something related to the choreography.
You close your eyes, sprawling yourself over the chair like it was a couch.
This was nice. You could feel yourself getting used to this. Stress and then just relaxing while others did their jobs.
You scream, eyes widening at the ghoul face appearing before your eyes.
All you hear is Michael's laugh and you making sounds of terror, trying to regain yourself.
The scare makes you clutch your chest, the other hand covering your face.
You let out a sarcastic laugh, shrugging at the audacity of him asking that. “I don't know.. Am I?”
He helps you up, keeping a secure arm around your shoulder in a way to apologize.
“What do you need?” You ask with the slight tremble in your voice. Michael looked like he just personally killed someone.
“Oh.. John just sent me over to fix my makeup.”
He indeed did need some fixing. The green paint was smeared a little and covered his red suit a little. The chair you just sat on was soon occupied by the young man as he waits patiently for you to do your thing. The brush tickled against his cheeks, making him giggle like a small child.
“Are you gonna be finished with filming soon? You're still stuck on the first part of the dance.”
Michael glares up at you, frowning. “It has to be perfect. Imagine it's not and I miss something!”
You shake your head and pat his shoulder. “Michael, your fans wouldn't mind it. Mistakes make you human.”
He sighs, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “Perfection is what I need, Y/N! I guess I do understand what you mean.”
You chuckle while putting away the necessities for his makeup, not noticing a certain person approaching both of you.
The sweet tone of a woman finally makes both of you look up to see Ola, who was standing there like the second coming of Christ. Her makeup looked near to perfect for someone who had been filming for the past ten hours.
She wraps her arms around Michael's arm as he gets up, resting her cheek on it with a rather cheeky smile. “John says we gotta continue filming before the sun comes up.”
He returns her smile with the same sweet expression he reserved for you, making something weird tug at your heartstrings.
“I'll see you later, alright?”
The air thickens a little, but you just smile in response.
You sit back and enjoy the show of Michael dancing, perfecting the people around him and the screaming fans not further back. It went as far as them climbing rooftops nearby, causing the set to stop in their tracks to get security, who got everyone down fast.
After twelve hours of fixing up people's makeup you were EXHAUSTED, but everything finally came to an end. Everyone was applauding the moment the last zombie scene was filmed. There was only one more, which had to be done only with Ola and Michael, back in normal makeup.
You had helped take off the last of someone's face paint when Michael was already leaving. He made sure to stop by where you were working.
“See you tomorrow, Y/N!” His arms wrap around you from behind, keeping a respectful space between you both. “Can't wait for the last part.”
You turn your head a little, his face closer than you had thought. Your eyes immediately dart away, cheeks burning alongside that smile you were trying to hide.
He quickly excuses himself and runs to his limo, which was waiting alongside Ola. She had the privilege to be driven home by the one and only, something most of you dreamt off.
Just as you thought he was gone you hear a very loud howl. The source was Michael, who was standing on the car's roof with his signature pose – hand on crotch and other arm raised. It was something he's been doing every time he goes home for his fans.
It made you giggle a little. Very adorable and funny at the same time.
A nice send off for both the fans and his colleagues.
Just as promised the last day of filming was the next day after that crazy long one. Today wouldn't be long, considering the small scene that was left.
You were just there to help with any smeared makeup if there was any.
After yesterday's last zombie scene in this Victorian House in Carol Avenue, about ten minutes away from the studio, you all had returned to finish the same scene just without the zombies.
Michael soothed a scared Ola, who was clinging to him the moment his character helped her to her feet. Just before he turns to the camera, John says “CUT!” so Michael could go to Rick and you for the yellow contacts.
He stands in front of you, leaning over a little so you could reach his eyes. With a careful touch you help him put in the lenses, dabbing a tissue where tears rolled free. His lips were tugged up into a soft smile, eyes watching you like a hawk.
“Alright everyone. Last scene!”
And Michael delivered, grinning back into the camera.
Everyone starts to celebrate, applauding and yelling out praises of adoration. Ola was already on him the moment John's mouth even opened.
You also can't help cracking a grin, which grows bigger as Rick pulls you into his side.
Your gaze drifts over to Michael, who was being smothered by everyone. The smile on your face fades at how much love it was, not because you were mad at it or upset.
So much adoration and love from anyone and anything.. It was something you craved sometimes.
“We did it!” Michael's voice disrupts your train of thought, even more so as he jumps into your arms.
The entire room was filled with cheers and joy, people tripping over each other to get to Michael, but his eyes were just on you. And he was beaming. Ecstatic.
Your throat closes up from how close he was, the room growing smaller by the second until it was just you two. His hands felt foreign on your body, his scent taking up almost all the space that was left.
Your eyes twitch shut as John lands a hand on Michael's back, patting it until the young musician turns around.
Once again you're back in the background, both men hugging at the accomplishment of getting this project to finally be what they wanted it to be.
Michael's time is occupied for the rest of the day until he's back in your make-up chair. His legs were dangling off the chair like a child, head propped back,eyes closed and a faint twitch of his lips every time you rubbed a makeup remover pad over his skin.
People, who were beginning to slip out the set, walked by to say their goodbyes or rather yell them over.
“Yo, nice workin' with ya, Mike!”
“Get home safe, Michael!”
All that until the only thing you could hear was the vanity light, humming softly.
Michael’s fingers tap on the arm rest, secretly watching you through half-lidded eyes.
“Aaalright..” You wipe the last bits of foundation off his overly soft face. “Done. You can go now, Michael.”
He swings his legs off the chair, turning just enough to see you clean up the mess on the vanity.
“Hey..” Michael can't help staying, not wanting to leave you all alone. His fingers tremble a little as they settle on the small table next to him. “H-How about I drive you home?”
You blink a few times, confused as to why he was offering something he hadn't in the past four days. “What? Me?”
Michael huffs a chuckle, watching you look around as if he had been talking to someone completely different. “Of course you, who else might I be talking about?”
His eyes beam at your response, so excited his legs couldn't stay still. “G-Great! I'll wait outside for you.”
Your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt, feeling smaller than ever after being asked to ride in a car with a guy, that guy being the most famous popstar in the world at the moment.
You take a little longer, packing every single item slower than expected.
When you finished packing and head out you were starting to feel your heart race a little. This was getting serious.
Outside the air was fresh, seeping into your lungs like a million sharp knives that just happened to have a feather light blade. Mixed feelings.
At first you didn't know how to approach the obviously Michael-coded limo, which held a rather crimson colour.
You shift on your feet, nails digging into the bag that held the makeup. So many thoughts and outcomes flood through your head.
What if it'll get awkward again?
Maybe this is pity for taking the bus everyday.
“You coming?” You hadn't even noticed Michael rolling down his window, waving to you to finally join him.
You take a deep breath, running along the sidewalk until you stand in front of the door. Michael opens it from inside, letting you enter.
The inside was even fancier than the outside, seats made out what looked to be white leather. Your legs brush his briefly, making that flutter in your chest grow worse. He draws a small curtain over the window, which makes you notice that every window was covered.
You shift in your seat, which was straight across Michael's. Something you immediately notice is him wearing sunglasses. At night.
His outfit was changed too. No longer was he rocking the red leather that would probably cause a riot amongst fangirls as soon as the mini movie would be released. Now he was wearing a dark bluish sweater with a white blouse under it, the jeans making his legs look longer. The boots finished the outfit almost perfectly.
He looked straight out of the romance novels you found your mother reading every morning.
The car started driving almost immediately, the driver nor Michael asking where you live.
Just as you predicted, the drive was awfully awkward. Only glances and slight cracks of smiles spared for the other.
The ride had been filled with silence for more than ten minutes, so hearing Michael's voice made you slightly flinch.
“Oh.. uhm.. yeah, I guess.”
Michael nods and knocks against the wall of the car. The window behind your head rolls down, startling you a little. The driver doesn't turn his head, but listens to the young man in the back as he redirects the car to the next KFC.
Michael orders a bucket of wings and orange juice while you satisfy yourself with some fries.
You try to chew a little more quietly while Michael inhaled his huge portion of wings.
“You want some?” Michael points to the bucket on his lap, that was already starting to empty itself.
The people pleaser that you are you take one, nibbling at it pathetically.
Michael says nothing, but notices.
You suck on your fingers after finishing everything that you could, feeling a whole lot better.
Without having the opportunity to reply, Michael shoves the orange juice he had gotten for himself into your lap.
He knew what you were getting at, how shy you were masked by a touch exterior. It was very relatable for him, though that facade had been built by years of experience. By his father.
He just stayed quiet, hoping you'd grow a bit more comfortable around him. This was something he also desperately needed in times where he felt the same. Just someone who didn't rub salt in the already bleeding wound, someone who'd listen and not ask question after question.
The past few days had made both of you friends, two people who shared so many attributes and interests.
Soon you were on the highway again, looking through the curtains just enough to see other cars fly by. You had never been in a limousine and it was kind of fun now that you got a little less tense.
Unbeknownst to you, Michael was smiling. It was always nice to see other people happy, but with you it felt almost like he himself was the one feeling the joy. The way your eyes shined and your smile lines deepened.. It made you look like a sun goddess.
The moment the car takes a turn into a rather familiar street filled with apartment complexes and people with faces you've seen every day walking around.
“Uhm.. it's okay if you just drop me off here.”
This whole neighborhood was the complete opposite to what he probably saw on a daily basis. The walls of every house were covered in graffiti, kids running around on the streets without caring for any cars driving around and those complexes looking older than the oldest person alive.
“You sure? Just tell me the address and we can make sure you're home safe.”
Michael doesn't ask twice, noticing the discomfort in your features. Maybe a man asking for a woman's address so stubbornly wasn't the best look.
So he lets you out, rolling down the window just enough for you to be the only one that sees him.
People were already staring, asking themselves whose limo that was.
You nod your head, clutching the makeup bag to your chest. You still had to deliver it back to Rick, but that could wait.
“Thank you for.. the food and driving me back.” A small smile tugs at your lips.
“Anytime. How about we do that again?” His voice lightens with hope.
Your cheeks heat up, that smile that couldn't help forming, making you all the more giddy. You brush back a strand of hair that freed itself, the eyes from the neighborhood burning into the back of your head. “S-Sure..”
Before saying goodbye he hands you a tissue with a number written in it. “Call me.” Was all he said before driving off.
The murmurs of the shopkeepers and others made you dart down the street until you got to your apartment.
This was gonna change your life for sure.
