GET ON THE FLOOR! â episode one â.Ë
summary: impressed by your makeup skills, michael invites you to work as a makeup artist while he shoots his short film â thriller.
warnings: i do not know the entire ins and outs of michaelâs life, that being said⊠a lot of creative liberties have been taken. just a reminder, this is a work of fiction, all references to real life people are entirely coincidental.
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âCan I move yet?â Tommy muttered, shifting slightly as he tried to peek at himself in the mirror.
âNo.â You pressed a finger gently against his cheek, guiding his face back toward you.
The faint rustle of notebook paper, scattered sheet music, and low chatter drifted through the studio. Behind the glass, Julian tested out lyrics under his breath, humming different notes while Lenny layered soft backup harmonies beside him. Marvin sat at the audio console, adjusting dials and replaying the same cues over and over again. The recording session had been dragging on for hours now, and progress seemed to have completely stalled. With nothing better to do, youâd decided to borrow Tommy and use him as practice for your makeup skills.
Stepping back, you studied his face. One half was painted a ghostly white, contoured with soft blues and grays that sharpened his features. Then, with black face paint, you exaggerated the details, hollowing his eyes and sketching the illusion of teeth and bone. It was the perfect skeleton.
âNow you can look.â You handed a mirror towards Tommy with a proud smile.
He immediately began examining himself. A bright smile appeared on his face as he lifted up his shaggy hair. âNo wayâŠâ He moved his face around, testing different expressions. âIâve always wondered how Iâd look dead.â
You giggled, sitting along the armrest of the couch. This is what you enjoyed the most about doing makeup. It was the reactions you would get afterwards. The surprise, the pure love people felt when they saw their new look. For you, makeup wasnât something simple. It was art, a form of self expression â a way to change your identity.
Just then, the door to the recording room opened. It was Julian. âHey Tommy, we need you to redo a section⊠what in the hell?â His eyes widened. âAm I missing something, or is it not the middle of May?â
Tommy raised both of his hands up. âBoo. Did I scare yaâ?â
He didnât sound the least bit convincing, or scary. Julian rolled his eyes. âStop playing around, we gotta get at least one good recording today.â
Tommy sighed, getting up from the couch to get his drumsticks.
Then Julian turned towards you. âWhatâs the deal with all the scary stuff? Yesterday was a zombie, a few days ago you had vampire teethâŠâ
Two months ago Michael Jackson asked if you had experience doing scary makeup. Sure you dabbled in some looks for Halloween, but it wasnât your area of expertise. Itâs been weeks since then. He hasnât called you yet, but you didnât see it as him going back on his word. If anything, it gave you time to practice and perfect your craft. This was Michael Jackson after all, he had enough money to get the most talented makeup artists on his team. You didnât want to drag them down.
You shrugged. âItâs just practice.â You still havenât told your brother about the gig. It wasnât like you were scared of anything, it was just⊠you knew how he was. You didnât want to mention anything until everything was set in place, just in case it happened to fall through.
âOh wait, before you go.â You grabbed your compact camera, quickly jogging over to Tommy. âLet me take a picture for my album.â
You quickly snap a photo of his face, the front profile and the side angle. Later you could print the pictures out and file them away for safe keeping. You liked to document each look you did, along with the palette and colors used â just in case you wanted to recreate it.
Just then, a knock sounded outside the studio door. It was Kenny. He opened the door slightly, peeking in. âOh, [Name], just the person I was looking for.â
âHuh?â You raised an eyebrow. âYouâre looking for me and not,â your eyes trailed towards the boys singing behind the glass, âthem?â
Kenny nodded. âYeah. Your agent called.â
âMorgan did? What did she say?â Morgan Garett was your agent, and manager of sorts. If you wanted to be a serious makeup artist, you needed someone to take your calls when you werenât around.
Kenny smiled. âOh not much, just that you got a call from Michael Jackson.â
âWhat?!â You jumped up, holding your face in shock. âDid he leave a message?â
âYes he did.â Kenny chuckled, âIt was quite long so Morgan wrote it down. But she wanted me to relay the message to you. It was something about a filming date.â
Oh Lord. It was finally happening. Michael didnât forget about you. Not that you believed that for a second â no. But still, it felt surreal. You picked up your camera, tucking it into your purse along with your makeup palette, face paint, album, and brushes. You wanted nothing more than to go home and call Morgan to hear what Michael told her.
You threw open the door to the recording room, popping your head inside with the biggest smile on your face. Marvin flinched, a slightly annoyed look on his face. Julian looked back disturbed, removing his headphones. Both Lenny and Tommy raised an eyebrow, somehow it seemed as though they could tell why you interrupted them.
âI got a gig with Michael Jackson!â
Filming for Thriller began in early June. Over the next few days, you spoke with Michael as he bounced around a couple of ideas, outlined the general premise of the film, and faxed over the shooting schedule. Before long, you found yourself in Angelino Heights, a part of the highly extensive filming crew.
On your first day on set, you were introduced to Rick Baker. He was in charge of the special effects team, one of the largest youâve ever seen. He was an incredible man, talented with professional techniques and equipment. You got introduced to him and your co-workers, instantly getting briefed on the various looks you would have to do throughout the film. There was the werecat, the zombie sequence, Michaelâs stage makeup, as well as Ola Rayâs. It sounded simple on paper, but if you multiplied this by the number of dancers, extras, and intricacies that went into each look â it was a daunting task.
Youâd been put in charge of the background dancers and the makeup retouches. Under Rickâs guidance, you learned how to craft gruesome horror flesh effects using liquid rubber and grease paint. Before applying anything to the dancers, you practiced each design on mannequins, making the process quicker once filming began. It also gave Rick the opportunity to inspect every look beforehand and decide whether it matched the vision he had in mind.
Just as you added the last drop of blood from the split wound, you saw Rick approach you from the corner of your eye.
âHow fun, it really looks like something from a horror film doesnât it?â Rick quipped, looking thoughtfully at your work.
You laughed softly. âIt does, I still canât believe I made this. This is my second time using this technique, actually.â
Rick's eyes widened. âReally?â He walked around the mannequin. â[Name] [Surname] right? Michael mentioned your name to me. He said you had potential and asked if you could join the team.â
Now it was your turn to be surprised. Michael really said that about you? He hasnât even gotten the chance to clearly see your work yet, but he spoke so highly of you. Well, you werenât going to let his good word go to waste.
âIâm very grateful for this opportunity. Iâve always liked doing crazy makeup looks on myself, face painting, or making fun designs on others. But you probably canât tell right nowââ You laughed. ââUsually Iâd have a full face on.â
Rick smiled. âNo, I believe you. You have the perfect facial structure for it.â
Well that was certainly a compliment if youâve ever heard one.
âYou know, we drafted up a potential look for the metamorphosis. Would you like to look at it? Having some fresh eyes on it could help us.â
You placed your brush down, a slight twinkle in your eye. âSure!â
Although, you didnât know whether you could provide much feedback or if they would even take it.
You followed Rick as he led you to a separate area of the trailer, where an aisle stood with a picture of Michaelâs face pinned to it.
âThis is the base stage, but after a couple levels,â he flipped through the plastic with designs painted on top of them, overlaying them on Michaelâs face, âwe get the were-cat.â
You gasped. âWoah⊠that looks good. But how are you going to show the change? Building up the makeup?â
âAt the start, yes. But the final transformation will be made from a face mold.â He then turned back towards you. âHave you ever done a mold on someone?â
âDo you want to try it out?â
You smiled, like it was a no-brainer. âOf course I want to try it.â
âWell, welcome to the team!â
He then handed you a towel. âAlso, you got a bit of paint on your cheek.â
You timidly grabbed the towel, a slightly embarrassed look on your face. â... Thank you.â
By the end of June, you had perfected the zombie looks for the two dancers assigned to you. You also kept yourself busy learning how to create the silicone alginate mixture for the face molds, carefully studying every step that went into applying and removing it safely.
During that time, you hardly saw Michael. It made sense, he was probably buried in choreography rehearsals. Still, his absence didnât slow the filming team down in the slightest. The entire production was in constant motion.
You often spent your breaks wandering around the set, watching everything come together piece by piece. One day, youâd find the crew constructing a replica of an old house; the next, they were crafting weathered graveyard props from scratch. As for today, you saw⊠Michael?
He was sitting on a table outside of the trailer, reading over something. You took the chance to approach him.
He looked up, his large brown eyes landing on you. A soft smile crossed his face. âAh, [Name]. Itâs nice to see you.â
âIt is. This has to be the first time weâve seen each other in person since our first meeting.â
Michael gasped. âYouâre right! Iâm sorry, itâs really busy on set.â
You shook your head. âNo need to apologize, Iâm settling in fine.â
Michaelâs eyes trailed to the large album in your hand. âWhatâs that?â
You held it up. âThis? Itâs that album I mentioned to you before. Itâs sort of a working portfolio. I wanted to take some pictures of the work I did and file them away.â
âDo you mind if I look through them?â
âOh, of course not.â You placed the album on the table, nervously hovering beside it.
Michael immediately noticed, laughing as he patted the chair next to him. âYou can sit down, you know. Iâm not gonna bite. I promise.â
You took the seat next to him hesitantly. You didnât know why it felt so strange. You werenât usually nervous showing someone your work. But for some reason, you wanted to impress Michael.
You took a deep breath, opening the album. Immediately you were met with pictures of your own face. âIt might seem a bit vain to have a bunch of pictures of my face, but I promise itâs not just photos of me.â
âThatâs okay, I donât mind looking at you.â
Did he mean to say that⊠or were you just reading too deeply into things?
It was probably the latter.
âI really like this one right here. I mean, itâs incredible.â He flipped through the glossy pages, pointing at the ones that stood out to him, as well as random fun designs.
But there was one that caught his eye. It was the skeleton look you did on Tommy a few weeks ago.
âThis was exactly what I was imagining. Something like this, but like a zombie⊠like Iâm between life and death. Can you do that?â
âSure I can!â There was probably the brightest smile on your face. If Thriller was a success, this could be huge for you.
Michael smiled. âCould I borrow that photo? I want to show it to Rick and John.â
âOf course.â You pulled the picture out from the glossy sleeve, handing it to Michael.
âI have a question, if you donât mind me asking.â His eyes bore into your own. âHow come you're not wearing any fun makeup?â
The question caught you off guard. Noticing that, Michael quickly backtracked. âNot that thereâs anything wrong with how you look now! I just thought you were the type of person to come in with crazy looks everyday. The good kind of crazy.â
He didnât need to explain himself. You could tell he didnât have any malice behind asking. âThatâs okay! I just didnât want to seem like a big shot, you know? Besides, we're here for about twelve hours each day, working in the California heat. It just wouldnât be practical.â
Michael nodded in understanding, but you swore you could see the tiniest hint of a pout. âOh⊠I wish I could have seen some of your work in person.â
It felt as if you were committing a betrayal â even though you never promised him anything. Maybe when things got less hectic, you would do a fun look. Just for him. âOh, thatâs right! I havenât seen you out here before, are you waiting for somebody?â
âYeah, Iâm getting my face molded today. Actually, I was supposed to be there five minutes ago.â
âShoot.â You were so caught up in his pace, you forgot that you also had work to do. âRick did say something about that yesterday, didnât he?â
You quickly closed your album, and shot out of your seat. âMichael! Weâre both late!â
That was how the two of you ended up sprinting across the set, not stopping until you finally reached the makeup trailer. By the time you arrived, both of you were breathless â though Michael was handling it far better than you were.
âThere you are!â John Landis, the director for the short film, opened the door with a relieved look on his face. âI was one second from calling Bill to ask about you.â
Rick peeked a head out. âJust in time Michael, and [Name] too.â
You looked at him apologetically, entering the trailer after them. âSorry, for the delay.â
âItâs not her fault, I held her up.â Michael defended. âI finally settled on a look for the dance break.â
John clapped his hands. âPerfect.â
You placed your bags and album down at your station, putting on gloves before heading towards Rick. Michael was already seated in the chair, chatting to John. Rick handed you a container of the face mold, giving the other assistant a timer. The material could only stay on Michaelâs face for so long, so it was important to work fast. Soon, the process began, and Rick worked methodically to cover Michaelâs face. You observed the process, taking in every last detail.
You still werenât sure why John was present, probably as emotional support, but he observed the process too.
After five minutes, the mold had set. Rick carefully removed it from Michaelâs face while John handed him a towel.
âHere it isâŠâ Rick held up the mold side-by-side to Michael's face, allowing him to look at it from the mirror.
âYou alright there?" John asked, to which Michael responded with a soft laugh.
It was understandable. You wouldnât be up for talking much if you just had silicone doused all over your face either.
While you cleaned up the station, Michael took the chance to pull out your photograph, showing it to John and Rick.
âI want to do a look like this.â
John examined the photo, pushing his glasses up with a chuckle. âNow wait a second, isnât that the drummer for Axis 79? Howâd you convince him to do this?â
Michael shook his head, laughing. âNo, I didnât do anything. This is a picture I got from [Name]. She did it, and I want her to do something similar for me.â
Rick took a look at the picture. âOh yeah, she can definitely handle it. I can help her out with the setup too.â
And so it happened. You were now in charge of two dancers, retouching, and Michaelâs zombie makeup.
After a month on set, all the tension seemed to melt away. Your SFX coworkers had started to feel like a second family, with casual conversations, morning coffee runs, and late-night film sessions becoming part of your everyday routine. You grew especially close with the makeup artists stationed beside you, Billy and Addison. They were older and far more experienced, but they never hesitated to offer advice or pass along helpful tips.
Today was the first day of filming the zombie sequence. That meant you were responsible for making sure Michaelâs makeup was on point. Nervous didnât even begin to describe how you felt. Your palms warmed, almost as if all the makeup skills youâve learned during the past month just flew out the window.
It was your third time pacing around the trailer, getting all the material you needed, brushes, and palettes set up.
âAre you looking for something?â Billy asked.
âUm⊠I think I misplaced the rubber cheekbone.â
Billy tilted his head towards the vanity in front of your chair. âYou already set that up. Itâs on the table right there.â
Indeed it was. You covered your face in embarrassment, laughing to yourself. âGod, I must be losing my mind.â
Billy patted your shoulder. âAfter Michael, you should take a break. Iâve seen you run to and fro this whole day like a little mouse.â
It was a tempting offer, but you couldnât. âI wish. I have to stick around for retouching during filming.â
You glanced down at your watch. It was already 4 p.m., with just enough daylight left to pour natural light through the trailer windows. If everything stayed on schedule, you could finish before sunset, just in time for Michael to be ready to film under the cover of night.
âHe should be coming any minute nowââ
âHey Mike!â Rickâs greeting immediately caused your head to shoot up.
Michael entered the SFX trailer, dressed in a simple white tee-shirt, with a bottle of orange juice in his hand. His hair had already been freshly styled, though it had been pushed back with a headband.
You silently thanked the previous hairdresser for the consideration; otherwise, his curls wouldâve fallen directly into the way while you worked on his makeup. Michael greeted everyone as he made his way toward the back, towards you, a light smile resting on his face.
âHi Michael, you can take a seat right here,â you patted the mesh backing of the chair.
âOkay,â he replied, settling in. âIâm excited for you to work your magic.â
He sat eagerly, glancing around the room. No matter how many times he stepped inside, he always seemed captivated by the array of gore masks hanging on display.
âAlright. Iâm going to apply the prosthetic cheekbone to your face, then once I build it up, Iâll start the zombie makeup.â
Michael nodded. âOkay.â
You reached for the rubber cheekbone, smoothing the soft material onto Michaelâs skin.
âI cannot mess this up. If he doesnât like it⊠I donât know what Iâll do with my life.â It was already a ton of pressure being one of the youngest here. But also because this was such a great opportunity to prove yourself. And you wanted to. So bad.
As you worked, your fingers began to twitch. Uh oh. The nervous jitters were coming back.
âSo, how was filming so far?â You asked. Talking worked perfectly as a distraction. If your mind is focused on something else, it wonât have time to spare on the little things.
Michael was surprised. Of course he expected the usual greetings when he sat for makeup. But once the makeup artist started to work, the conversation usually died down.
Besides, John was usually the one who asked about how filming went, so imagine his surprise hearing it from you.
He shifted in his chair slightly. âWell, we did a dress rehearsal for the sequence and it looked great on camera. We havenât shot anything new today, you know we canât do much unless itâs dark, so I spent the day rehearsing with Ola. Um⊠sorry, you probably expected something more but it was pretty mundane so far.â
âMundane?â You laughed. âAt least you were moving. Iâve been standing all day, bending down just like this.â
Michael tilted his head. âI wouldnât mind it. I mean, it seems very fun making brains and painting rotting flesh.â
âItâs fun at first, but then you realize how tedious it is.â You dropped your voice to a whisper. âBut between you and me, we get a bit more leeway during reapplication since the zombies donât have to look perfect.â
A grin spread throughout Michaelâs face. âOoo, Iâm telling Rick.â
You gasped. âYou wouldnât!â
âNah, Iâm just messing with you.â
You lightly push his shoulder. Even though he was older than you by two years, he seemed almost like an annoying little brother.
Michael allowed you to work your magic on his face. He would close his eyes when requested, open them when asked, or let them wander â anything to avoid the vanity mirror in front of him. There were times when he struggled looking in the mirror, afraid to see a new pimple or a scar marring his skin. For a perfectionist like him, every imperfection was a huge blow to his self-esteem.
But that was another reason he enjoyed makeup. Besides the ability to change how you look and turn into a character, it could hide certain things. Michael took note of how carefully you applied the cosmetics to his face. Every request was gentle, every touch careful and respectful, as though he were a carved statue and you were Michelangelo himself. Youâd grown so focused that you stopped talking altogether, as if even the slightest breath might throw off your precision. At one point, you absentmindedly handed him the eyeshadow palette to hold. He didnât mind it at all. In fact, he found it quite funny.
âHm? Whatâs this?â As you were applying face paint, you noticed a tan spot just along the side of his nose. âOops, I think I mightâve used the wrong shade of concealer.â
You reached for a wet wipe to remove it, but Michael stopped you. âOh⊠thatâs my skin. I have a condition. My⊠vitiligo.â
You paused. âOh. Do you want me to leave it be?â
He shook his head. âNo, just cover it up.â
âIf you say so.â Picking up your brush once again, you painted over the area. âBoop.â
âBoop?â Michael questioned, slightly amused.
âSorry,â you chuckled, âThatâs a little quirk I have. Ignore that.â
Michael didnât want to ignore it. He found it a bit cute. As you returned back into your focused state, he decided to play a small prank on you. He used the edge of his finger to get just a bit of white faint paint. Then, when you werenât looking, he poked your cheek.
âWhat was that?â You asked, your attention not breaking.
It took all of Michaelâs strength to not break into laughter. âWhat was what?â
Your eyes flickered towards him. âI felt something.â
He shrugged. âI didnât see anything.â
After two hours, you finally finished the look. Addison, who was hanging around nearby, approached your chair. âWoah, that looks amazing. Itâll look great with the zombies.â
Michael examined himself in the mirror, testing out different expressions. Then he smiled. âItâs incredible. Thank you, [Name].â
Then you heard Addison chuckle beside you. She folded her arms. âAnd here I thought that you would get through a session without getting any paint on you.â
âWhat? I seriously didnât touch anything besides the palette and Michaelâs face.â
âOh yeah? Then whatâs that?â She pointed at the side of your cheek.
Looking in the mirror, you saw it, a bright white spot of paint. Thatâs when uncontrollable laughter came from the seat.
Your favorite part of the day (or should you say night) had to be the filming. During the daytime it was sweltering hot, but at night your usual uniform consisted of capris and an oversized sweater. More often than not your hair was held in a high ponytail, your curls undefined, and your flyaways â well, flying away. Despite all of that, you found it fun. This was your first time being a part of a film crew. Despite the repetition, it never got tiring to you.
âCut!â Johnâs voice rang out for the 4th time during the shooting of the interior of 1345 Carroll Avenue. He had mixed thoughts about how the zombies break-in was showing up on camera. He rubbed his chin, shifting his glasses slightly. âI want everyone to remember their order through the door. For the zombie under the floor, I need it to be a bit more powerful⊠like thisââ
You shifted towards Ola, taking out a powder puff to dab away the sheen that accumulated around her T-zone.
âHas it really been that long?â She asked, taking on a more relaxed expression.
âItâs been our fourth reshooting of this scene.â You told her, sighing softly. âI think it might be the fog machine, itâs adding a lot of moisture into the set.â
Then you reached for a swatch of her scarlet lipstick, reapplying it on sides that faded.
ââYou know what, I donât think weâll get a shot as good as the door entrance again. We can split it up. Cut to Michael, the windows, the zombies, then Ola.â John finished, heading back to his place behind the cameraman.
Everyone got up, returning back to their original positions. And you went back to your spot off-screen. It took about two more takes before John got the footage that he wanted. After that, everyone took a short break.
You immediately slumped onto a chair. âFinally, Iâm off my legsâŠâ You closed your eyes for a bit, taking the time to rest. This entire filming process was slowly turning you nocturnal. Because of that, you took as many chances to get shut-eye as you could. Then you felt a cold droplet of water against your skin.
You cracked an eye open. Michael held a water bottle towards you, with Ola right behind him.
It took a lot to give him a smile. âSure, thanks.â
Michael slumped on your right, while Ola took your left side. Out of all the people working on this short film, the three of you were around the same age. That made it easy for the three of you to form a little group once filming began.
âHow have you two been holding up?â You asked.
Ola shrugged. âIâve been screaming for like⊠thirty minutes straight. I hope itâs good enough. I donât think I have the energy to redo any of that again.â
âJohnâs being a perfectionist,â Michael muttered, fiddling with the zipper of his bright red jacket, âlike always.â
âWell youâre a perfectionist too Michael.â Ola laughed.
âYeah, but Johnâs just being mean now.â
As if on cue, John soon appeared in front of you three, his hands on his hips. âNow what are you three whispering about?â
The three of you looked at each other, instantly going silent. But it wasnât enough to deter him from the mischievous air.
You interrupted Michael. âWe?â
âI said,â he adjusted, âthat you were being mean.â
John cupped his ear, leaning closer. âI was being what?â
It was an obvious set up, but Michael fell for it. âYou were beingââ
Before he could finish his sentence, John picked him up, flipping him upside down.
âPfftââ You broke into laughter, watching the scene unfold. You couldnât believe it. For such a professional guy, John Landis was surprisingly childish.
Someone had leaked the filming location for the dance break. Now, filming consisted of actual work and the occasional screaming from fans behind the ârestricted-entryâ line. There was also the addition of another production team filming the behind the scenes. One night, during shooting, they stumbled on a particularly interesting interaction.
You were in the middle of retouching Michaelâs makeup while the crew set up the fog machine. You never considered yourself short, but there were some times where you felt it a bit awkward looking up at him, since he was a few inches taller than you. But Michael was observant. So, he made sure to bend slightly.
âYou have really long eyelashes.â Michael mentioned off-handedly.
Ola burst out into laughter. âDonât mind him, he always says random stuff like that.â
Michael looked off to the side. âNo, donât mind her. I really mean it, [Name]. Theyâre really pretty.â
You chuckled bashfully. There it was again. Another compliment that knew exactly how to make you blush like a little school girl. It was hardly professional. But to think Michael saw that as something beautiful when you looked like road-kill more days than not⊠it meant something to you.
Then, John appeared beside the three of you. âYou see, I was under the impression that you were just a friend of Michaelâs. But then I heard your full name from Rick, [Name] [Surname]. I put two and two together, and only now realized that youâre Julian [Surname]âs sister.â
John looked utterly stunned. His hands rested on his hips, his suit jacket flaring slightly as he stared at you like heâd just realized he was the last person let in on some massive secret.
Ola gasped. âReally? From Axis 79?â
You threw your head back. âYes, but I never mentioned it to anyone because I didnât think it mattered. I donât sing or dance like them. Iâm a nobody.â
âA nobody?â John laughed, patting Michaelâs chest. âI better ask for an autograph now. Otherwise, sheâll see me in the airport and treat me like some regular shmuck.â
You laughed. John was doing a very good job distracting you. âJohn, Iâd never do that to you!â
Michael smiled. âDonât tease her too much.â He lightly pushed Johnâs shoulder. âSheâs not that type of girl.â
While those two were conversing, you used a spare brush to dab blue eyeshadow onto Johnâs cheek. Ola giggled, as she watched it occur.
âThereâs your autograph.â You teasingly said.
You pointed towards his cheek. He lifted a finger up, rubbing the powder off his face. âAh, now I look like you on any given day. Covered head to toe in face paint.â
Your mouth dropped open. Meanwhile, the rest of them burst into laughter.
âI do not!â You turned to Ola. âDo I have anything on my face?â
She grinned, lightly tapping the side of your face. âWell you have a little something right there.â
âNo way. I canât believe it.â
John wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pointing towards the camera nearby. âWould you zoom in on this? We look like twins donât we?â
The camera zoomed into both of your faces, John with his simple mark, and you who, of course, had an array of different swatches on your face.
The filming had finally wrapped up mid-August. After months of work, the Thriller short-film was complete and up to the standard Michael imagined. As always, the final footage was shown to the entire crew, who watched in amazement as their hard work came to life. After the video finished playing on the projector, claps and cheers erupted all throughout the room.
Amid the congratulations, Michael walked to the front. âAgain, I just wanted to thank everyone again for the amazing work and commitment put into this project. I couldnât have done it without you all, and I hope you all loved it.â
âItâs incredible how much time we put into this just to get thirteen minutes of film. For movies, it must be on a whole different level than this.â You looked around the room. Every single person in this room was responsible for this magic. And they all had the proudest looks on their faces, as if they knew they were about to be a part of history. Rick Baker, John Landis, Michael Jackson⊠all you could think about was updating your resume. But you were also somber. This marked the end of this collaboration. Although it was fun, if you didnât get a new gig soon you would go back to being in the shadow of Axis 79. Probably designing their outfits for the next event or practicing makeup on unwilling participants.
You sighed, standing up. âI shouldn't think like that. This was a great experience for me. If I did as well as I thought, Iâd have no problem getting myself out there.â
You grabbed your bags, and your keys. It was back to your hotel now. You had a flight to book and sleep to catch. Oh how you missed ten hours of sleep.
Michael found himself held up with the footage team, going over the logistics. The plan was to officially release the film during December. But as this discussion was occurring, his attention kept flickering over to you. He wanted to speak to you before you left. About what? He wasnât sure himself. What he did know was that he didnât want you to leave without at least saying goodbye. Was it manners? No. He didnât feel this need with anyone else. Maybe it was because you were so easy to talk to. Everyone around him was so serious. With you, Michael felt as if he could joke around and truly be himself. He didnât get moments like that often. Maybe that was it.
With that newfound thought, Michael gained the courage. He didnât just want to say goodbye. He wanted to see you later.
But first, he had to get out of this conversation.
You turned around at the call of your name. It was Michael. He was jogging towards you.
âMichael? What is it?â
âAh, itâs nothing much⊠itâs just that⊠I wanted to ask if you would be up for lunch sometime?â
You almost dropped your bag. You? Having lunch with Michael? âI didnât think that he saw me in such a close light.â
âI did ask Ola, but she said she had a busy schedule coming up soâŠâ Michael rambled on, taking your silence as hesitation.
âIâd love to. I donât think Iâve had a good meal in months.â You giggled.
Michael smiled, he didnât expect you to agree.
âBut first, I miss my bed. So how about a week from now? Just call me, and this time I promise Iâll answer.â
âIâll be holding you to that promise!â
an: this is so ridonkulousy long that i couldnât even include the date scene in this chapter omg, butt i hope you all enjoy this chapter!
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