ℳ𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑒

"i'm so sorry in advance," you murmured for the tenth time, turning in the passenger seat to look at michael. "my cousins have no boundaries, mikey. if uncle troy asks you for a loan, you tell him no."

michael just offered you that warm, soft smile, as he reached over to squeeze your hand. "it's okay, baby. i promise you i'll be fine."

taking a deep breath, you finally got out of the car. you led him through the front door, the screen door letting out that familiar creek. inside, the house smelled like vanilla and sweet tea. your grandma was parked in her usual spot in the living room, completely locked into her soap operas. she didn't even look up from the tv screen, just waved a hand vaguely in your direction saying her quick hi’s and hellos.

the real action was out back.

through the large windows, you could hear the muffled thumping of a bassline. your jaw nearly dropped when you realized the speakers were blasting "rock with you." out on the patio, your aunts and cousins were dancing, red solo cups in hand. michael’s eyes lit up, a soft chuckle vibrating in his chest at the sight.

bracing yourself, you pushed open the back door and stepped out onto the grass, still holding michael’s hand tightly.

"is that my baby?" your dad shouted over the music. he was standing by the massive black smoker grill, spatula in one hand, wearing a faded apron.

"hi daddy!" you called out, letting go of michael for just a second to wrap your arms around your dad's neck, breathing in the comforting scent of charcoal and hickory smoke.

as you pulled back, the rest of the family started wandering over, drinks in hand, ready to inspect the new boyfriend. "daddy, everyone... this is my boyfriend, michael," you said, stepping back to stand beside him.

"hi everybody, how's it going?" michael greeted, his voice soft and polite as he offered a gentle wave.

at first, the reaction was standard. your aunts swooped in for hugs, asking how the flight was, completely running on auto-pilot southern hospitality. aunt kaye didn't even look at his face, just patted his arm. "you look a little skinny, baby, make sure you get you something to eat before you leave here —"

she stopped. the gears started turning. the music seemed to fade into the background as silence dropped over the yard.

"wait!" your cousin marquise shouted, freezing mid-sip in his lawn chair by the edge of the pool. his eyes went completely wide, and he choked on his capri sun, coughing violently. "nigga is that michael jackson?" he said shaking your older brother awake.

every single head snapped back toward michael. a collective gasp echoed across the lawn. you let out an internal groan, burying your face slightly against michael's shoulder.

"no fuckin way," someone whispered.

"you're joking."

before anyone could even process it, your mama rushed past everyone, sprinting straight into the house. a minute later, she came flying back out the back door, clutching a vinyl copy of off the wall. she marched right up to michael, holding the album cover directly next to his actual face, her eyes wider than saucers.

she looked at the album. she looked at michael. she looked back at the album.

her mouth dropped completely open. she smacked a hand right onto your chest, glaring at you with pure shock. she shouted your full name, her voice booming over the yard. "and you didn't think to tell me?! i cleaned this house in a raggedy t-shirt and no wig, and you brought michael jackson into my house?!"

"i literally tried to!" you protested, throwing your hands up.

"you said he was in music! i thought you meant on the street or something!" she yelled, before immediately turning back to michael with a bright, overly sweet smile, completely changing her tone. "hello, michael, baby, welcome to our home."

michael couldn't contain his amusement. he threw his head back, laughing softly at the family dynamic, before naturally sliding his large hand around your waist, pulling you close to his side.

once the initial shock wore off, the southern hospitality kicked into overdrive. your mama completely took over, dragging michael toward the patio tables. she practically forced plate after plate onto him, insisting he try her homemade peach cobbler and the greens.

"now, michael, i know you're famous, but if you don't eat at least two plates, my feelings will be deeply hurt," she warned, loading up his plate with enough starch to feed a small village. michael, always polite, took small bites and practically melted, praising her cooking up to the heavens, which only made her beam with pride.

out on the grass, your little cousins—none of them more two apples tall—were practically vibrating with excitement. they kept tugging on michael’s shirt, begging him to show them how to moonwalk. despite his usual shyness, michael didn't mind one bit. he kicked off his loafers and spent a good half hour giggling, patiently breaking down the footsteps on the concrete patio while the kids stumbled around like newborn deer trying to copy him.

your dad eventually pulled michael over to the grill. while showing him the proper way to flip a slab of ribs, your dad launched into a massive, animated rant. "see, michael, the media won't tell you this, but the government puts chemicals in the tap water to keep us compliant. and don't get me started on the moon landing. you know about the industry, you see the truth."

michael just stood there holding a paper plate, nodding along with intense concentration, looking genuinely fascinated by your dad's wildest local conspiracy theories. you weren’t sure you’d ever seen michael eat a rib, like, ever…

across the yard, you were completely cornered. your aunts and younger cousins had bombarded you against the fence, whispering furiously.

"what is it like dating him?"

"how do you even handle that lifestyle?"

"is his hair soft? it looks soft."

you just looked across the yard, watching michael patiently listen to your dad while your little brother tried to high-five him. a soft, tender smile tugged at your lips. "when we're together, it's none of that flashy 'king of pop' mess," you told them softly. "he's just my michael."

by the time the sun went down, casting a deep orange and purple glow over the southern sky, it was time for michael to leave. you were staying for a few more days, but he had to get back to cali.

out by the driveway, the cicadas were buzzing loudly in the trees. bill was standing discreetly by the running car, waiting to take michael back to the airport. uncle troy was currently trying to pitch bill a pyramid scheme by the front fender.

"everyone loved you. thank you for coming, mikey," you said, wrapping your arms comfortably around his neck, looking up into his dark eyes.

"you don't have to thank me, baby. i had a wonderful time," he murmured, his hands finding your waist, drawing you into his space. a sweet smile broke across his face. "everyone's so funny."

"no, everyone's so embarrassing," you laughed, shaking your head.

"i love you, applehead. call me when you land," you whispered, leaning up on your tiptoes to press a warm kiss to his lips.

"bye, michael jackson!“ your little brother's voice suddenly shattered the quiet moment, echoing from the front window of the house. a split second later, you heard a muffled smack as your mama tapped the back of his head.

"boy, shut up!"

the two of you broke the kiss, turning your heads toward the house. sure enough, the entire family—including your grandma, who had finally abandoned her soaps—was bunched up against the living room window, their faces pressed so hard against the glass their noses were flattened, trying to spy on the goodbye.

the second they realized they'd been caught, there was a frantic scramble of shadows as they all tried to dive out of sight, someone knocking over a lamp in the process.

you couldn't help but giggle, hiding your face into michael's chest as his soft laughter rumbled against your cheek.

❤︎ 🧸 © 𝙢𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙚