I LOVED YOU FROM THE START
BAD!MICHAEL JACKSON X LADY!READER
synopsis: the night of your life- a victorious, well earned grammy led you to meet your musical idol, who seems to be a little too intrigued by the new pretty little thing…
tw: a small blurb of harassment, kinda long but an intro none the less, mostly fluff, 2 uses of y/n
a/n: I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BABIES!!don’t worry, ya girl has like 8 more blurbs coming up that will make up for it- enjoy!
title taken from “From the Start” By Laufey
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𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟖 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒
There was only one word for it: chaos.
Whether it was that good chaos that made the place feel lively or the bad one that made the place feel overwhelming, it was hard to determine.
With your manager, Paulie, breathing down your neck to smile for the cameras, say the right thing, no mistakes because that equals a bad rep, you were leaning towards the overwhelming bit of it.
The view from the fourth row was amazing considering you were right in front of the stage. “Yea, yea, calm down. Act professional, jeez.” Paulie huffed out as he jammed his cigarette pack into his jacket pocket.
Usually comments like that would cause you to quiet down, but nothing could ruin this night. After all, it was your first Grammy Awards.
So you just smiled with a small “Sorry…” and turned your gaze to the sparkling stage.
The voice of Billy Crystal announced category after category. Performance after performance. Then came “Best New Artist.”
“And the grammy goes to…” Your knee bounced up and down as anxiety coursed through your veins The chances of you winning were low, you knew this. It was only your debut album.
So why was your stomach in knots? Maybe from the hope of it all?
“Y/n Y/L!” The presenter shouted as the auditorium filled with loud cheering and applause.
The crowd was deafening. The only thing you could make out was the quick pounding of your heart. You couldn’t move. Your legs were jelly and there was this tingle in the tips of your fingers.
Paulie was too busy making sure the camera was getting his good angle to notice.
Various hands from the seats surrounding you gently ushered you out of your seat with small pats and pushes.
It was as if you were watching above as your own body took control of its self, like it belonged to someone else. However you made it to the stage without a single stumble or trip.
The lights were blinding on the stage, casting silhouettes onto the entire audience. You couldn’t see faces anymore, just a vast darkness of strangers. Like preying eyes locked in on fresh meat.
You knew every move was being read, ever glance and breath was being analyzed. Welcome to the spotlight, baby.
Shaky hands accepted the award as you stepped up to the microphone. Despite your heels, you had to adjust the microphone down to fit your height better.
That made the audience laugh. Whether it was with you or at you was out of your control.
“Wow- Oh my gosh, I don’t even know what to say…” You let out a soft exhale that passed off as a laugh. “This is my biggest dream come true.”
The audience reacted positively to that. They let out small laughs with big cheers. Good.
“I would just like to thank Paulie, my manager, for taking care of me. My producers, Jim Dear and Darling, for believing in me and my songwriting. I owe it to you guys. My amazing family, my musical idols, you guys are the whole reason I am standing here. And to my fans as well, thank you for everything, this one is for you guys.”
The words sounded familiar and generic but the emotion in your voice is what sold it. The glassy, puppy dog eyes and the small voice cracks of emotion showcased the genuineness that is you. The audience fell in love.
Loud cheers and even louder applause came over the audience like a tidal wave. They were entranced by this breath of fresh air in this spunky industry. Especially a certain King of Pop.
They say the after party was worse than the actual award show. But nothing could knock you off your high horse. Not even Paulie’s off-hand comments that he grumbled:
“You know Michael Jackson won eight grammy’s in one night? Once you do that, then we’ll celebrate.”
“God, we really do need to get ya’ a mentor. I cannot handle a one of these every year.”
You were sitting down at a table, nursing your champagne. Many ‘congratulations’ and hugs ensued, from many people you didn’t really know. It was amazing.
A whiff of tacky cologne filled the air as a presence was made known to the chair next to you. “Hey, sweetheart…” The man lazily grinned at you. “Congratulations.”
A shiver went up your spine and your gut twisted with wariness at him. But not wanting to be rude in fear of the tabloids blowing up your reputation, you murmured a small “Thank you…”
The man let out a laugh under his breath, rubbing a hand over his jaw, the stubble making a noise against his calloused hand. “Don’t be shy, pup. I’ve heard your voice and I’ve got to say, I’ve never heard anything like it.”
Your head perked up at the compliment, a small smile making its way to your lips. “Really?”
The man shrugged. “Of course. And listen,” he leaned forward, placing a heavy hand on your knee. “If you get with my company, you’re gonna change the whole damn world.”
When you didn’t move away from his hand, he took that as an invitation. His hand slowly slid higher and high up your thigh with a wicked grin. “What do ya’ say?”
You let out a nervous laugh. You wanted to move, to tell him to stop, but this was your debut into the bigger side of the music industry. You couldn’t mess it up. “Well, I…uhm…”
A smooth, angelic voice called from behind you. Your head whipped around because you knew that voice. That voice belonged to the same man who was on non-stop on your record player while you did mundane tasks, the same person who inspired you everyday. The one and only Michael Jackson.
His brown doe eyes landed on the skeezy producer on your right and they narrowed ever so slightly.
“Dan, why don’t we let the lady of the night breathe, hm?” He suggested politely, but you could hear the hidden firmness in his tone.
The man grumbled as he took his hand off you and walked away.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding before holding it again as Michael, the Michael Jackson, took his seat.
“Sorry about him. He does that to every other pretty artist he lays his eyes on.” He gave a small sympathetic smile.
If you weren’t so busy trying to make yourself presentable, you would’ve noticed the way Michael’s bambi brown eyes locked onto your face. More specifically your glossy lips before running up and down your body that was cladded in that dress that hugged you in all the right places.
You cleared your throat to eliminate the possibility of voice cracks to not further embarrass you. “It’s alright. Thank you though.” You tilted your head at him with a gentle grin.
Michael’s eye sparkled at your smile. Cute he thought quietly. “S’no problem, girl. Congratulations by the way. That grammy’s well deserved.”
Did your heart suddenly grow wings because why did it start fluttering? A rosy pink colored your cheeks as you grew shy. “Thank you, sir. Your album should’ve earned one as well.”
He let out a short laugh that might as well been a snippet of Heaven’s choir. “Call me Michael, baby. And thank you as well but the audience is always right.”
You gave a small shrug in return. “In my opinion, they just wanted to stop your roll from ‘Thriller’. Your record was too impressive.”
“Thank you.” Humble was a word that crossed your mind as you watched him duck his head at your compliment.
Before you knew it, you and Michael talked throughout the whole after party. About your careers, the story behind your hits, your future venues, anything and everything.
He told you about the tips and tricks to survive in this industry. Things he did to accomplish his feats and mistakes he made that cost him.
There were three things you picked up about him:
He has a tendency to call you anything but your name.
He has a love for animals and Disney
He’s the first person to be truly interested in the girl behind the music
As the after party began to close, you two walked side by side out the venue, still immersed in your conversation.
Michael insisted on walking you to your car, “It’s dangerous at night for a pretty girl like you.” He said with a charming grin as he walked close by with his hands in his pockets.
Once you got to the black limousine, you turned to face him. To your surprise, his gaze was already on you.
“It was really nice to get to know ya’, sweetheart. I can’t wait to listen to that next record. I hope you find what you’re looking for.” Michael gave you that charming grin that made you feel like that stupid little fan girl.
“It was a honor to get to talk to you, thank you so much.” Was all you felt you could say without accidentally pouring your heart out.
The way you looked up at him with those adoring little puppy dog eyes and smile was enough to make him shake his head gently as he let out a small laugh. You were too adorable.
“What?” You questioned, a smile already building.
“Nothing- you’re just…gorgeous.” He grinned as he pulled a small little paper slip out of his pocket.
Before you could even comprehend anything about this moment, he got so close to you. Close enough, you could smell the cologne that faded throughout the chaotic night into something that was just purely him.
“Keep in touch, yea?” He murmured into your ear as he slipped the piece of paper into your palm.
Without missing a beat, because Michael Jackson never did, he planted a chaste but meaningful kiss on your cheek before walking away.
It was like winning a Grammy all over again. Except there was no clear next move. No stage to walk up to nor any beaming lights and cameras. Just you and this paper.
You opened up the folded slip to see a phone number and the initials M.J. scribbled at the bottom.
Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the adrenaline from the kiss, maybe it was just overall stupidity. But something took control over your body and made you call out “Michael!”
The view of the taller man’s beautiful black curls that were perfectly crafted into place turned into the view of those stupidly stunning eyes. “Yea, baby?”
A deep breath. No turning back now. Your hands shook but this time you clenched your fist to not let them.
“Would you consider being my mentor?”
a/n: that’s all! stay tuned for more to come, hope you enjoyed! xo, mimi <3
taglist: @roseidol, @bambijackson
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