Michael Jackson fics:

𑣲⋆｡˚ Maybe in Another Life

ANGST

Summary: You and Michael struggle after your engagement becomes public.

𑣲⋆｡˚ Marital Trouble

ANGST

Summary: Michael is used to getting what he wants. He wants a baby but you don't.

𑣲⋆｡˚ Our Love Is For Better Or Worse

Part two for Marital Trouble !

ANGST / FLUFF

Summary: You and Michael weren't made for an easy love. After an abrupt divorce you find your way back to one another.

Headcanons:

𑣲⋆｡˚ imagining toddlerdad!michael

𑣲⋆｡˚ sugarboyfriend!michael x ditzy!reader

Info on my work:

I don't take requests! This includes part two requests, sorry. I enjoy letting my imagination roam how it pleases. I also feel bad saying no to individual requests, if I'm not able to create something good, cause I'm a wuss. Anyways, thank you for enjoying my work enough to like or interact!

I plan on writing for an array of other celebrities/characters but will be mainly focusing on Michael Jackson for now!

I don't write: smut!

˚⟡˖ ࣪ sugarboyfriend!michael who worships the ground you walk on, never being able to tell you no, despite people thinking negatively of your dynamic.

˚⟡˖ ࣪ sugarboyfriend!michael who purchased an entire Chanel collection that you had seen at a fashion show simply because you said you needed it.

˚⟡˖ ࣪ sugarboyfriend!michael who gives you your own card, which is connected to his bank account, after you continuously need to borrow his.

˚⟡˖ ࣪ sugarboyfriend!michael who immediatley fired two emloyees after hearing them negatively gossip about you and your relationship.

˚⟡˖ ࣪ sugarboyfriend!michael who is never surprised when you burst into his meetings. His assistant rushing after you apologizing profusely. "Michael, I've been running around all day trying to find a dress for the award show later, Bubbles ruined my pink one. Do you think one of these two is okay?" you say holding up two extravagant dresses. "I like the one on the right, it reminds me of a roman goddess," he replied after consideration. "Your right or my right?" You asked, while the table of high executives sat completely baffled.

˚⟡˖ ࣪ sugarboyfriend!michael who loves that you enjoy playing games with him. (a home video was later released to the public of you and Michael teaching Bubbles how to perform a dance routine, all three dressed in an iconic Michael Jackson outfit. Only for you and Bubbles to still do terrible in your 'official performance video' which was also released.)

˚⟡˖ ࣪ sugarboyfriend!michael who proposed to you months after knowing you.

˚⟡˖ ࣪ sugarboyfriend!michael who was furious when you did an interview together and were asked about whether you were using Michael for his money, but smiled when you sweetly quoted Marilyn Monroe in the movie 'Gentlemen Prefer Blondes'.

"Don't you know that a man being rich is like a girl being pretty? You wouldn't marry a girl just because she's pretty, but my goodness, doesn't it help? Why is it wrong for me to want these things?"

I do not give consent to copying/editing my work.

⋆.˚dad!michael who instills a vivid imagination in his children with bedtime stories, disney movies, and an array of costumes for them to play pretend in on a daily basis, and often dresses up himself as Peter Pan.

⋆.˚dad!michael who gets sad when the kids don't want to dress up and play pretend.

⋆.˚dad!michael who has you teach him how to do the children's hair and always chooses to dress them in colorful clothes.

⋆.˚dad!michael who loves doing crafts with his kids, like making origami and beaded friendship bracelets, making sure everyone wears their bracelet often.

⋆.˚dad!michael who begins marking your children's height on the doorframe of their ginormous playroom, always adding their name and age while smiling softly.

⋆.˚dad!michael who randomly takes the children in front of a mirror and has them make silly faces with him while snapping photos for your family scrapbook.

⋆.˚dad!michael who loves when his kids dance and perform his music for him and his friends, and makes sure everyone looks excited, because the kids are doing amazing.

⋆.˚dad!michael who saw how much the kids enjoy playing with their bikes and electric toy cars and bought an extra one of each for himself. Then started racing the children in them despite needing to squish himself inside to fit.

⋆.˚dad!michael who tries to learn how to cook in an attempt to impress his kids, and after they praise his spaghetti, decides he no longer needs to learn and allows that to be his specialty dish that he makes weekly.

⋆.˚dad!michael who easily gets talked into staying with the children until they fall asleep at bedtime and ends up falling asleep before they do.

I do not give consent to copying/editing my work.

Despite this guilt that you struggled with, you knew that staying married to Michael would have only resulted in losing yourself. Michael didn't understand compromise. He never needed to. The people around him never hesitated to give him what he wanted. If you had complied with his demands, it would only have resulted in you continuing to need to give in to him for the rest of your marriage. You would have lost your own autonomy slowly and painfully until you no longer recognized yourself.  

This rationalization of your ending things took time.  

The first few weeks were the hardest, you couldn't help wondering if you were the only one in the wrong. You struggled to believe you made the right decision. Did you act too impulsively? 

 In a moment of weakness, you called him, anticipating the voice of his assistant. 

“Hello, this is Diane," you heard indifferently.  

"Hi Diane, is there any way I can speak to Michael." You asked quietly, embarrassed. 

Although she recognized your voice immediately, the line was quiet for a beat before you heard her clear her throat. "Um— I'm sorry sweetheart, I've been told not to put any of your calls through to him."  

You ended things with Michael in order to save yourself a heartbreak that you were afraid you wouldn't be able to get through, yet here you were, your heartbreaking anyway. You don't remember the rest of the phone call. It remained a blur.  

The things that you do remember are the days of isolation that followed this phone call. You remember using all your vacation days at work to process things, only for your best friend to come banging on your front door. She sat on the couch, television playing in the background, while you laid with your head on her lap as you sobbed, feeling like a child who struggled to handle their own emotions all over again. 

Months had passed, and although you struggled, you had not looked back since then. The silence that initially felt unbearable to you now left a lingering melancholy that never left. When your friend showed up nervously with a magazine announcing Michael's marriage to Debbie and their pregnancy, you felt an all too familiar heaviness in your chest. Her attempt at comforting you by staying the night and watching your favorite movies together did little to ease the hurt you felt. He was marrying the woman who promised him everything. He must have really loved her this entire time. 

It had been a couple of months later when you and Michael crossed paths for the first time since the divorce. You had mutual friends but neither of you had the best track record of showing up to events, which is why it had taken so long. When you initially saw him, you couldn't help doing a small double take. He looked as handsome as ever. 

Despite your internal struggle, you never greeted one another. You decided not to approach him, feeling conflicted as to what you would have said. Although you didn't acknowledge one another, this didn't stop you from instinctually glancing at him throughout the duration of the event. 

What you didn't see was that your impulse to look at him was reciprocated. Although he established the distance between you two, he still loved you in his own way. 

Michael knew he was struggled with compromise, he knew he had a part to play in your marriage ending. Nevertheless, this didn't stop the hurt he felt, which drove him to solidify the distance that was originally built from your arguments. 

One could argue it was habit. When Michael didn't like something, someone did, all it took was an easy to miss signal, and they would be escorted out of his presence. He was quick to cut people off, it was the natural process for him. You just never imagined it would have been directed at you. 

The other main difference in how you both handled the divorce was that while you had a should cry on, he didn't have anyone to talk about things with, you were the person he always confided in. So, instead he stayed up at night thinking about everything concerning you and your marriage. He considered his own stubbornness and your temper and wondered if your marriage ever stood a real chance. 

Michael wanted to explain his thought process to you, even now after seeing you. He wanted to make you understand. He was stubborn, yes, but he never meant any actual harm. His marriage to Debbie was a farce. An agreement was made to satisfy his religious mother, who insisted on it since they planned on having children through artificial insemination. 

You were the one who kept him up at night. You were the one he loved. 

So, despite his urge to ignore you, he called you the next day. Without any idea of what to say. 

As you began to pick up the phone, he quickly came to the realization he didn't know what to say and hung up, ending the call before it started. While this initially confused you, you simply figured they dialed the wrong number and went on with your day not knowing he had wanted to speak with you. 

- 

It had been another year later when you heard that Michael and Debbie were getting a divorce. They had two children together, in the meantime, who Michael attempted to shield from the public with face coverings. 

It seemed as though anytime you heard the tabloids mention Michael's name, you couldn't help the anger that followed. He was being mischaracterized more frequently, and this was yet again another opportunity for them to make up fabricated stories and narratives that sold. 

'Does Michael Jackson Have a New Wife on Standby?' 

'Are Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston Dating?' 

'Michael Jackson Not Marriage Material!' 

While you initially didn't think twice, you couldn't help the anger that built as you began seeing more and more disgusting headlines being written. So, while you sat on your bed, you picked up the phone on your nightstand and called his assistant. 

"Hello, this is Diane." 

"Hi Diane, I was wondering if I could talk to Michael?" You ask, expecting to be denied. 

"What's the code?" You quickly realized that she must not have recognized your voice. 

"Neverland is the most magical place on earth." You reply nervously, you knew Michael changed the phrases every few months. 

"Oh— It is you! Hi sweetheart, give me just a second. I need to check if I can put you through." 

The line was silent for quite a while, you almost considered hanging up just before you finally heard Diane shuffling around on the other line. 

"I'll put you through now, it was nice hearing from you baby." You heard before a soft beep announced that you had been sent through. 

"Hello," you heard softly, not the artificial voice he used for the public, the one you knew. He almost sounded shy. It had been so long since you heard his voice, you felt your heart beating in your chest. You slowly stood and began pacing your room slowly. 

"Hey Michael, how are you— I swear the tabloids are getting worse and worse. I just wanted to check in." You stated, feeling the need to explain yourself. 

"Um yeah— well you know, I try not to read them, but it's definitely been getting harder, they're everywhere." He replies, sounding guarded. 

You wanted him to lower his guards, so, huffing a laugh, you recalled, "Yeah, I remember reading a tabloid claiming you had traveled to Mars and that was where you had gotten me, — they claimed I was a Martian." 

You heard him chuckle, "Yeah, I remember that one, I actually considered claiming it was real during an interview once, just to see how big the story would get." 

"Oh my gosh, can you imagine? I would have gotten so many interviewers contacting me. I would have loved messing with them. I one thousand percent, would have committed to the bit and dressed up as an alien." You sat down and began laughing together. 

"No! That's why I didn't do it. I knew you would end up convincing them somehow!" He states, smiling widely. 

The conversation felt needed on both ends. Michael had few confidants, and you had missed how enjoyble the time you spent together was. It always came effortlessly with you two. You stayed on the phone for quite a bit of time before one of his children had woken up from their naps, and he had to leave. 

After this phone call, you both casually kept in contact, appreciating spending time with one another. Eventually leading you to meet his children. Still, there remained a tension that you weren't able to shake. Although you both loved one another, you couldn't help the weight that lingered from your failed marriage and your mutual romantic love. 

Afraid of rejection and loving one another again, you both remained quiet about your romantic feelings developing. 

- 

As you were having a girl’s night with your closest friends, you all sat in the living room channel surfing for a show or movie to play when an interview with Michael popped up. 

"Wait, let's watch this," you state instinctually before glancing around and smiling nervously, embarrassed. 

Your best friend smiled softly, understanding your situation, and helped, "It's fine, there isn't anything else to watch anyway," she added. The rest of the group settled into their spots on the floor or couch and quietly watched. After a few questions, the interviewer announced they would be wrapping up soon but just had a couple more questions. 

"Michael, I think many women around the world are dying to know, what's your ideal woman like?" 

 This question completely caught you off guard. Michael rarely did interviews, let alone allow them to ask questions he didn't sign off on. You couldn't help your confusion at him agreeing to being asked this question. 

 "Well, I like someone who's kind and fun, but above all unique," he was quiet for a moment before smiling softly and adding, "kinda like a Martian," he added, giggling quietly. 

 You froze. The interview ended quickly after that, but you couldn’t help the excitement you felt knowing he felt the same. Then came the dread. What did this mean for your future together? You already had a failed marriage with him in your past. 

 You couldn't imagine remarrying one another. A sentiment Michael shared despite announcing his feelings for you. 

- 

Despite his decision to make a private reference for you in the interview, when you had initially called him the next day and asked about it, he stumbled over himself. It was only when you confessed your own feelings shyly that he opened up, inviting you to a formal date at his house, asking you to dress up. 

When you finally arrived at his new house that evening, the sun had just started to set, and he served you both wine. The patio had been set with a table, and you both enjoyed your favorite very non-formal foods together, leading you to ask about the formal dress code. 

"I know that we're just beginning to open ourselves back up to one another romantically, but I just kinda realized we never had an official first dance after our wedding. I mean it was so simple, all we did was sign the papers. I guess I was hoping we could officially have our first dance. I always wanted to dance to a Sam Cooke song at my wedding," he said, slowly getting quieter, and carefully watching your reaction. 

You couldn't help smiling softly as you looked at the stone floor, with tears in your eyes. Your and Michael's love was far from easy and gentle. You both had things you struggled with but you always loved one another despite your brokenness. You understood one another in a world that continuously misunderstood you both. 

Michael dismissed his chef and maid, his nanny being the only one in the house, in a separate wing with the children. You both washed your dishes and cleaned up after yourselves. While you finished drying the dished off, he announced that he would be right back and returned with a Sam Cooke record and record player. 

Smiling to yourself, you leaned on him as he began setting it up, absentmindedly resting your hand on his back. When he finished , you heard the soft sound of 'Nothing Can Change This Love' begin playing. He turned to you, hand outstretched, "May I have this dance, Ms. Jackson?" 

You smile softly, meeting his gaze, "Of course, Mr. Jackson." 

He grabbed your hand and led you to the open space just beyond the kitchen island. He turned to you and placed the hand not interlocked with yours on your waist, while your intertwined ones were raised. Your other hand absentmindedly resting on his bicep. 

You both began swaying to the music as one. 

'Nothing will ever change this love I have for you' 

 As you sway softly to the music, you can't help mourning the life you could have lived with one another, the simplicity of a life without the fame, and if you had decided to be a housewife. But you knew better, Michael loved being an artist, he loved the fame in spite of the media continuously trying to tear him down, he somehow always managed to get back up. You also knew that you were only struggling more and more with the idea of ever having children, and you would never have been able to be a stay-at-home mother or wife. You simply craved something different. 

Gently he spun you around, bringing your body closer to his as you began swaying together. You leaned onto his frame, head resting on his chest along with your arms, while his own hands found your waist. He sang along absentmindedly while you remained quiet, soaking in the moment.

So, while neither of you necessarily wanted to remarry, that was okay. For now, though, you would continue loving one another in spite of the uneasiness of your love. 

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Your eyes were feeling heavy as you lay leaning on Michaels side, both of you sharing a blanket, while he continued picking at popcorn that lay on his lap.

"Baby, are you still awake?" He asks softly.

"Yeah, what is it?" you ask softly as you slowly lift your head and look at him.

"Today was really fun, huh?" he says, placing the popcorn on the coffee table in front of you.

Smiling, you simply reply, "Yeah it was."

"Playing with the kids was so fun, Mac was dying laughing while you pied me in the face." He says, giggling quietly.

You can't help smiling, "When I came in to get the whipped cream, your new maid, Claire, was so nervous for me. I had to keep telling her it'd be fine." You spill.

"No," he drags out, still smiling.  "Hopefully she stops worrying so much," he replies.

Slowly his smile faded, and you see him begin fidgeting with his fingers. "You know I've been thinking, it’d be nice to start a family—settle down, marry, have a few kids."

You can’t help avoiding his gaze, looking at your hands in surprise. You hadn't considered the age gap between you two till now, you had just started your career. You had worked too hard to just stop and have children when things were just taking off. You refused to have a nanny, and couldn't pause everything to stay at home now. You wanted to marry Michael, but you hadn't considered having children for at least another 5 years.

"Michael, I don’t want to have kids anytime soon," you said nervously.

"Oh, c'mon you were amazing with the kids today, you always are. Don't you want us to have our own?" he says, still smiling softly, looking at you and leaning closer towards you.

"I do, but baby, I just started my career. I've been working towards this thing for so long, and it finally feels like it's within reach. I can't just stop to have kids now." You say, your voice almost pleading.

Without hesitation, he shoots back positively, sounding sure he's found the solution. "You don't need to! I'll take care of them and when I need help, I'll have a nanny to help us."

Completely caught off guard by Michael expecting him and a nanny to be the main care givers, you begin to feel odd. You had quickly become aware after getting to know Michael that he liked being in control, but you had never experienced it in your relationship. You both respected each other so much, surely, he couldn't mean that you would hardly play a part in your children’s lives. You must be misunderstanding.

"Michael, if I have kids, I'm not gonna have a nanny, we'll both be there." You reply simply.

"Well, I'm just saying you can keep pursuing your career if you want. Anyway, we don't need to worry about that right away.— What do you think about getting married?" he asks casually.

"Are you asking me now?" You questioned him.

He hums, smiling softly at you. "I guess I am."

Completely caught off guard and overwhelmed with emotion, you couldn't help flinging yourself on Michael. The conversation you both had about children was completely disregarded as you began kissing him all over his face. Michael's hands holding your waist closely to him as he began giggling.

A few months later, you and Michael quietly married one another at a private ceremony in the Dominican Republic. The first few months of marriage were perfect. You and Michael were completely smitten with one another. You were both focused on your careers, and you often flew out to visit him when he was out on work trips, either filming, meeting people, or performing shows. However, he seemed to be getting more antsy about having children as you got closer to your one-year anniversary.

-

You and Michael were getting ready for an award show as he began zipping up the back of your dress.

"Mom's been asking when we're gonna have kids. I told her I'm hoping for one by next year," he states casually.

You can't help rolling your eyes. These conversations have become more and more frequent as of recently. "Michael, I'm not doing this now. I already told you how I felt about it. I'm not gonna stop taking birth control." You state, walking to the large vanity that had an array of jewelry from different luxury brands that were begging to style 'Michael Jackson's wife.'

He sat on the bed facing you as you began sorting through accessories.

"I don't want to be an old man with children I can't keep up with," he says.

"Michael, you aren't gonna be old, and I told you before we got engaged, I'm just not ready right now," you state, holding pieces of jewelry up to where they would adorn you to see which looked best.

Besides not wanting children now, you couldn't shake the way Michael discussed your future children, like your role in their lives wouldn't matter. He would speak as if he would be the only person who would have a say in the way they were raised. Unfortunately, you were too in love to see how much of an issue this would be at the beginning of your relationship, but as these conversations continued happening, you couldn't help the dread you felt at the idea of having children with the man you loved.

He scoffed and looked at the floor as you began putting on a pair of earrings.

Shortly after, he stood and paced for a moment while you turned to face him. He stopped and finally met your gaze.

"Do you remember Debbie Rowe?" he asks.

"The nurse who took care of you at the hospital?" You ask, completely bewildered. You knew they kept in contact, but he never mentioned her name enough for you to think of her twice.

"Yeah—she said she'd be happy to have my kids," he states, looking at you expectantly.

You remain silent for a moment, completely taken off guard at the notion of them having discussed having children together while you're married.

"You're such a piece of shit, Michael. If you want a person who's willing to get on their knees and worship the ground you walk on, I have no idea why you ever decided to marry me." You state, as you kick off your heels and quickly stomp to the bathroom nearby, slamming and locking the door behind you.

You hear his footsteps get closer to the door as you stand in front of the sink. Completely overwhelmed by this new revelation, he had discussed having children with another woman.

"There are plenty of women who would be happy to be in your position," he says, raising his voice.

You knew you shouldn't have taken the bait, but you couldn't help it. Quickly you opened the bathroom and pushed his chest angrily, "Then be my guest and go find one, Michael. I'm not here to fulfill your every desire, I'm not your lackey, and I'm sure as hell not gonna let you start treating me like one."

He scoffs and shakes his head. "I'm leaving." You feel your chest heaving as he slams the door shut behind him, and you begin crying, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. This moment felt like it had been building for a while. You knew when Michael wanted something, he would get it. He had this need for control. You were just too naive to believe that it would ever be directed towards you.

By the time Michael got back to the hotel, hours later, you were already on a plane back to Neverland. You had never considered divorce, despite how different your views on children were. You probably should have, but you didn't want to, you didn't want to think of a future without Michael.

Hours after getting home, you received a phone call, knowing who it was immediately, you picked up.

"Baby, I'm sorry," he began halfheartedly.

You remained quiet for a moment, "The problem is I don't believe you. You keep bringing this up even though you know how I feel. Not only that, you literally just told me you've been talking to Debbie about having children with her. If it was the other way around you would lose your mind."

He sighed, "I know, I know. I just really want to start a family with you. I want us to grow old with kids together."

Tears began welling in your eyes, this conversation felt futile. You were both going around in circles with one another. Not only that, you could tell he was lying, sure he probably did love you, but it was obvious your own reservations regarding children didn't matter. If you didn’t give him what he wanted, he would find another way. It was only a matter of time. It didn't matter whether you or someone else gave him children.

Not believing him, but not wanting to continue a pointless conversation, you simply sighed and stated, "I think we should both get some sleep. Goodnight." You didn't wait for a response before hanging the phone back on its receiver and ending the call.

-

It wasn't out of the ordinary for you and Michael to spend days away from each other. You were both busy and traveled often. However, the arguments that never ended along with the distance only made you feel pessimistic about your future together.

It didn't help that you had just seen photos of him with Debbie on a newspaper cover.

'Is Michael Jackson Having an Affair With Mystery Women?' the front page mocked you.

The anger you felt only grew. How could he see her again after your argument? Didn't he care about your feelings at all? When you began dating, it was clear he had a need for control, you weren't completely ignorant of the fact. You could see it when he snapped his fingers after someone said something he didn't like, only for them to be escorted out of the area by security.

At the beginning of your relationship, this had rubbed you the wrong way, a man having this authority over every detail of his life. A person so accustomed to getting their way. However, before you allowed yourself to think about how this could be aimed at you, you pushed the thoughts aside. You didn't want to focus on his red flags when you were so madly in love with him.

Except now this little delusion you allowed yourself to live in was now biting you in the ass. This was bound to happen. You knew it. You also knew you only had two real options, either to forgive Michael when he inevitably revealed that another woman was pregnant with his child, or end things before he had the chance to.

So, despite the hurt you felt, you decided to set up a meeting with a divorce lawyer. You didn't expect anything outside your agreed prenup, but you didn't know how to go about getting a divorce and didn't want to be the one to serve Michael.

-

Completely out of your comfort zone, you walked into the office after the lawyer. "Hello, Mrs. —" he paused, looking through a few notes on his desk.

"Mrs. Jackson," you reply simply.

"As in Michael Jackson?" he states, bewildered as he began to piece together who you were.

"Yes, hopefully my soon-to-be ex-husband."

Your conversation with the lawyer didn't take long. You quickly stated your belief that Michael wouldn't contest it. How could he? You both wanted different things and weren't able to come to an agreement regarding children. Despite expecting a sense of relief, leaving your lawyer's office, you couldn't help feeling guilty. You hadn't talked to Michael about divorce.

You had been told it wouldn't take long for him to be served the divorce papers, and that they would call you that day beforehand. So, when you were at work and received the call, you could hardly focus. You expected a phone call from Michael afterward, despite not talking to him for a couple of days. As it began to get dark, you couldn't shake the dread you felt at not knowing Michael's reaction, what he was feeling. After all, you loved him, you just didn't want to sit around waiting for him to break your heart.

The call never came. Within days, you had moved out of Neverland, and out of Michael's life.

I do not give consent to copying/editing my work.

However, when you got the call from him inviting you to Neverland you cautiously accepted. As you entered you quickly lost yourself in the magic of Neverland and had an amazing time reconnecting with your childhood. You played the entire day with Michael and other child celebrities like Macaulay Culkin. It had been so long since you had played freeze tag or with water balloons.

After a long day, you and Michael sat on chairs on the Patio and discussed your own lives while eating ice cream. Many of the children gone and a few others inside watching a Disney movie.

This had quickly become routine. Michael would call you and some days it would just be you and him and other days you both had fun playing at Neverland with others. Everyone could see how happy you both were when together.

Shortly afterwards you began dating. However, the one aspect of Michael's life you hated were the tabloids. They felt evil in the way they dragged Michael's name through the mud for a story. You were both in agreement on keeping your relationship private because of this, but when you got engaged you knew it was only a matter of time, so you made it public.

After one interview that he made sure to be in control of regarding questions on your engagement, you began being harassed. People began calling and showing up to your workplace, paparazzi followed you asking invasive questions about you and Michael and it felt like too much.

Despite visiting one another often you were able to hide the anxiety medication you began taking. This didn't stop him from noticing the difference in you when you went out in public, you hardly spoke and would remain quiet for the rest of the day. You couldn't help it. You struggled with the new life you lived. Michael saw your struggle and quickly began making sure one of his bodyguards carried aviators and face masks to hide your face. While this helped you conceal your facial expressions it hardly helped your privacy, they had already seen you.

Slowly the distance built between you two.

-

One day after going out together, while heading home he reached in your purse to look for the candy you always had on hand and came across your medication bottle. With furrowed brows he began reading it and you reached over to take it from his hand, but was too late, he had already read it before you snatched it away.

"You started taking anxiety medication?" He states more than asks.

"It's fine Michael, it's just for now." You state softly.

This did little to ease his nerves. He couldn’t help feeling guilty, he was used to the media, and their invasiveness. It absolutely hurt him, but he had known it since childhood. You didn't ask for this; you had simply fell in love with him.  You were the one person he loved most, and he felt like he was the cause of your pain.

Both of you began thinking and the car ride remained silent.

-

A few days later, he brought it up again after you were silent after another outing.

"The media won’t ever go away" he stated, as you entered the house.

"I know that Michael" you said not looking at him.

"I don't understand why you're with me," he said a bit louder as you walked to the kitchen for a drink.

You halted and turned around, eyebrows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Things aren't the same, whenever we go out, you’re quiet for the rest of the day."

"It's just a lot. It'll take some time for me to get used to." You replied solemnly, as you turned around and grabbed a bottle of apple juice from the fridge.

Michael stood at the end of the kitchen island looking at you. "It's been months. I wanted you to go to an award show with me recently, but I knew it'd be a lot for you. I wish you could’ve gone."

"Where is this going Michael?" You ask, facing him.

"I feel like I'm killing your spirit." He stated softly.

You remained silent as your vision became blurry. It wasn't him, it was them. It was the paparazzi, the journalists, the interviewers, the people who felt like they had a right to know about Michael and you.

"I love you" you say softly, as you felt tears fall and wiped them away quickly.

You looked at him as he began crying and closed his own eyes. "I love you too much to be the cause of your pain."

He walked around the island and placed his hands your waist, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours softly. "I know baby— I love you too."

You quickly pulled away and held his face in both of your hands, shaking your head. You knew what was coming next, you wanted to convince him not to say it, but you couldn't think of the right words. Your eyes began pleading for you.

"Please," you said softly as your throat tightened.

"I think it'd be best if we end things." He confirms your belief quietly.

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