marie

Hi babes!

I'll be starting to accept requests for one-shots and imagines, and i'd love for you guys to send me your ideas!!

I write about practically everything, so feel free to share your requests with me ♡

I write about all the Jacksons!

my very first request eveeeer, im so excited! i hope you like it, and the delay? i think you'll notice the little moments i was stuck on what to do, haha

anyway, i really liked the result and i hope you guys do too <3

⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒘𝒆'𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

1969

Her boyfriend was finally back.

Ever since his group with his brothers was becoming something big and very well-known, Jackie had been increasingly absent – not that she judged him, she knew it was important for the boys and their family, since everyone's main goal was to leave that small town, but being away from him for two long weeks was certainly torturous.

She and Jackson had been together in their early school years, little kids who didn't really understand what the desire to hold hands and exchange drawings meant, and now they had become the school's sweethearts, known immediately and obviously to everyone. Everyone knew that you and he were together, and that your destiny carried one thing, the certainty, not the "if," but the "when."

She had barely cared about the chemistry class and Miss Harper's tedious words when the only thing she could follow was the repetitive ticking of the clock; it was today! Mom had talked to her father and after many scoldings, he let her spend the afternoon at her boyfriend's house, not sleep, never sleep.In a way, they had never really gotten there. Sure, sometimes the kisses went a little deeper than necessary and his hands went under her shirt fewer times than she'd really like to admit, and well, her cheeks still flushed when she remembered the time Jackie sat her on his lap.

But leaving that behind, today was the day! She was sure – what better opportunity than the feeling that would die when she was finally in their arms and the freedom from her parents to stay at the Jackson's house without worrying about the scolding she might get? Everything was perfect.

A few days ago, she and her best friend had gone to the mall during lunch break, and with the change she had faithfully saved up during those days by smuggling sandwiches from Amy's house, they entered the Victoria's Secret store as if they were entering illegal territory, looking around as if one of their mothers might magically appear there.

The lingerie was under her uniform now, pink and delicate, like someone who knew exactly what she was trying to insinuate with it, but in a way, the reality was still innocent.

Her stomach was cold. Would Jackie want it too? Was he too tired?She didn't have much time to dwell on the possibilities when the bell rang, and exchanging a small smile with Amy, she ran to the school exit, ignoring the people from the film club who called her name a few times.

Her boyfriend was back!

She almost threw herself onto the bicycle, barely caring about the backpack on her back. She knew the way to the Jackson's house like the back of her hand – and besides the afternoons she'd spent simply chatting with Katherine about mundane things, she still remembered when they used to walk there after school.

Jackie had dropped out of school for music, and despite her worries, he had given his girlfriend the certainty that it would all be worth it.

A block past school, her eyes widened when she saw a tall figure in the yard of the small house. He lived on the street below hers and was waiting for her, just as he had promised in their last phone call. The girl was almost run over when she lost her rhythm, and melting into an excited giggle, she gave up on the bicycle in front of the Jones' house, running towards the boy.

Jackie looked impeccable, wearing a white Beatles t-shirt and orange bell-bottom trousers cinched at his hips with a leather belt – her afro perfectly styled and a smile that almost made her legs give way. Bracing for the attack he so desperately needed, he opened his arms, cursing the seconds before she simply pounced on him.

Arms wrapped around his neck, the girl lost her footing the moment his strong arms encircled her waist.

Finally, finally, finally.

Jackie smelled so good, was so warm, and seemed simply meant to hold her in his arms. The curve of his neck was made for her face, and his waist molded to be wrapped around her legs — they were one, without half or leftovers, simply molded by the hand of eternity for each other.Holding his girl tighter than he really should, Jackson buried his face in her hair, that completely messy ponytail carrying the minty scent of the shampoo she used to wear, the sweet lavender perfume of her uniform, and that scent her skin carried, so her and so perfect.

Swaying her from side to side, he chuckled excitedly as her legs released him, swinging behind her "Jackie!" She sounded completely muffled by his neck, and leaning in to kiss anything in sight, he pressed his lips to her temple, breathing deeply into her presence.

And like a little start button being pressed, she pulled away, searching his eyes. Jackson wanted to laugh when he noticed the tears glistening in her small eyes, and without much ceremony, he leaned in, stealing a long-awaited kiss.He had spent nights thinking about it, needing her lips after having to endure Marlon and Michael being the most energetic children he had ever seen, after long nights of rehearsals and Joseph's scoldings.

Finally being in his girl's arms was a reward from the universe.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, simply enjoying the warmth of each other's mouths when she pulled away, pressing small, smacking kisses against him "Mhm, i'll guess" he said, putting her back down "Someone missed me?" And his heart simply melted at the smile she gave him.

"Missed?" The girl giggling, moving her fingers to cup his face, testing whether the figure before her wasn't just another one from her countless dreams "I thought i was going crazy! I dreamt about you every day, i slept in the shirt you gave me, and your mother must be tired of seeing my face"

Ah, that.

Katherine had mentioned in one of her calls to her boys how his girlfriend had been keeping her company during this time, and Jackie remembered very well the serious tone her mother used while telling him not to dare hurt her.How could he even? This little thing had simply cast a spell on him.

"And you said the shirt was silly" he teased, poking her ribs with his index finger, leaning in to steal another quick kiss from her flushed lips "But it's good to know i'm still keeping my presence even when i'm not here" And smiling, Jackie simply pressed his cheek against hers.

Their silence lasted long enough until two pairs of small voices bellowed the girl's name as if she were one of the Beatles.

Well, her boyfriend wasn't the only Jackson who loved the girl.

"You came!" Michael shouted excitedly, not caring about his brother's arms, grabbing the girl's arm before Marlon could get to him – and with a cheerful laugh she turned to the little boys "I told she'd come, Marlon, i told ya!"

And him? Well, he was too busy grabbing the girl's back to answer his younger brother with anything other than his tongue sticking out.

"Yo guys!" Jackie sounded offended seeing his girlfriend being attacked by the little boys, especially Michael, who was now surrounded by her arms as she crouched down on the grass to get to his level "What i told you two to at least give us five minutes!" And despite his offended words, the older one couldn't contain the smile that spread across his lips as he watched the girl of his life simply being loved by his baby brothers.

Marlon was like a baby koala clinging to her back, his chin watching his brother with a mischievous look, and Michael hidden in her arms as if that was his place; they obviously knew the girl loved them.

"Leave them, Jackie" she said smiling, getting up and taking them with her, one hand trying to balance the boy's legs on her back and the other carrying the youngest of the Jacksons "We missed each other, didn't we, boys?!"

And that chorus of "yesss" from them was completely ridiculous.

"I tried to hold them back, but Michael runs too fast" A sullen Jermaine appeared in the doorway, closing it carefully, knowing his father hated it when it was slammed, and even when he wasn't home, it was a habit "And Marlon bit my leg" The older boys stared at the little boy, who simply played dumb.

Walking towards them, the teenager looked at his older brother's girlfriend with a smile and a quiet "Hey, i finished reading that comic you gave me" And with that, she raised her eyebrows curiously.

"So?"

"Iron Man is still better"

"You're hopeless, Maine" She shook her head in a feigned disappointment before approaching him, dropping her two little paws to hug the teenage Jackson, who, despite rolling his eyes as if forced to do so, surrendered to the hug a little too easy.

"Okay, okay, everyone said 'hi' now i can have my girl" Jackie gave the boys a light tap on the back, who looked at him sullenly, but he didn't give in, only indicating with his head for them to go inside.

Jermaine, who had his cheek resting on her shoulder, made a point of rolling his eyes at his brother "Calm down, man, she's not going to run away" And seeing that he had elicited a giggle from her, the boy made sure to let a smile appear on his own lips.

Frowning, the older brother flicked his forehead.

"Go check on the boys and stop being such a loudmouth"

And glancing at her boyfriend, the girl subtly raised her eyebrows "Poor things, they missed me" And shaking his head, the taller boy walked towards her finding the backpack on her shoulders with a familiar touch, removing it.

"Poor me" Jackie's voice was lower as he dropped the object to the ground, searching the side of her face with his lips "You should see how much i missed you" And that whisper in her ear was more than enough for the girl to lose any drop of empathy for others that ran in her blood.

Her eyes gleamed at her boyfriend, teeth sinking into her lower lip."Could you show me?"

And oh, oh.

Jackie thought he would never hear those words from his sweet girl, and he froze for a few seconds, analyzing her face as if trying to find something beyond that nervous certainty that shone with the red of her cheeks, and at that moment, he cursed having heard those words in his own backyard.

His eyes watched intently as she reached for his hand, her slender, trembling fingers guiding him toward her own shoulder, and when Jackson's thumb could reach the collar of her polo shirt, he wanted to send the world to hell and simply grab her right there. That pink strap, a small trace of the lace that outlined the curve of her shoulder and practically glistened against her skin tone, made his mouth dry.

Where had she learned to be like this? Where had she gotten that? God help him, he definitely wanted to see what that sudden boldness had done to his little thing that was too shy to let him take a step further.

His hand molded the side of his girlfriend's neck with an almost trembling touch, hesitant as if a more abrupt movement would break that moment between them.

"I could?" He smiled mischievously, leaning towards her, but before Jackie could steal a few more seconds of air from his lady, Jermaine's voice cut through the air.

"Ma said she's going to the market!"

And he rolled his eyes, letting out an irritated snort that resulted in a laugh from her.

"And what does that have to do with me?"Jackson furrowed his brow, pressing himself against the half-open door with a bored look.

"She told you to come in and watch the boys, i need to finish my schoolwork and i have, like, a two-week pile, okay?" And he turned, slamming the door.

"Maine is the most insufferable pre-teen in the world" he grumbled, letting his hand fall toward the girl's before bending down to pick up her backpack "Couldn't he at least cover this for me? Damn"

Shaking her head, she walked beside him toward the wooden door that had become more than familiar to her "Let him study, some music stars want to graduate too, y'know?"

And as a way to tease him, her shoulder subtly bumped against his, and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

Katherine appeared in the doorway, completely flustered, little Randy clinging to his mother's arm, his eyes tearful and his mouth open "Oh Jackie, son!" Approaching the boy, whose expression immediately tightened into one of concern, she looked at him with a tender face "The milk ran out and i only just realized it now, your father forgot to buy some this morning, and it's almost Randy's bedtime, could you please watch him for me? Michael and Marlon are playing, and they're with Jermaine, it'll be quick, i just—"

Her eyes fell on her, who nodded slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, darling, i'm sorry to interrupt your moment, but it'll be quick, i promise" And without waiting for a reply, the Jackson matriarch pressed a kiss to the forehead of the little boy, who continued to melt into a soft sob.

Her boyfriend sighed.

"I just got here and i already have to babysit" And placing his hand on his brother's back, he continued "Come on Randy, i'll put a tape in the tv for you"

And the girl's eyes softened as she observed how easily Jackie handled everything – she knew that in a way, he was the one who truly assumed a paternal role in the lives of the boys who obeyed him with a respect born entirely of love, instead of fear.

She knew he would be a great father; in fact, he practically already was.Closing the front door behind her, the smell of coffee immediately greeted her. Katherine did an impeccable job of making that small space feel familiar and cozy, always so organized and smelling of cleanliness.

"I'm hungry" Randy complained once more as he wiped his face on his little yellow sweater, stopping in front of the kitchen as if something might suddenly be served in front of him.

Jackie looked at her girlfriend in a silently apologetic way, the corners of her lips lifting in pity. This shouldn't be like this; they should spend the afternoon together and enjoy each other's company after weeks of loving and embracing.

Not like this.

"Go be with Michael and Marlon, okay? i'll see what i can do"

And instead of kisses and playful touches, the young couple's goal now was to find something that the little Jackson would eat, which, on top of everything else, wasn't an easy task considering Randy was the pickiest child in the family.

Opening one of the cupboards next to the refrigerator, the older boy exhaled heavily, immediately catching the girl's attention. Walking behind him, her fingers touched his shoulders with such familiar gentleness that it melted him effortlessly.

Turning around, Jackie gave a small smile.

"I'm sorry 'bout that" And using his fingers to brush away a few strands of hair that fell across her face, he studied her for a few seconds, wishing he could memorize every little detail of that beautiful face for all eternity "If she had at least asked me, i would have said no, but you see? I don't even have a choice"

Shaking her head, she leaned towards him. "You're her only support, it's difficult to give her a choice in these moments" And brushing the tip of her nose against his, a small smile played on her lips "And how could she not? You're so responsible and grown-up now, oh so serious"

Jackson chuckled, resting his body against the lower part of the lockers, one arm around his girl's waist "Am i? Or are you just trying to compliment me?" And he leaned in, pressing his own mouth to hers in a momentary kiss.

Pulling away subtly, however, she murmured the words to him "A little of both" And eliciting a convinced sound from him, the Jackson raised his free hand, seeking to mold her small face closer, finally sealing them in a kiss.

He couldn't help but think of the moments before, of that sinuous pink lace that had caressed his eyes like one of the most beautiful gifts he could have, and that thought itself made his mouth more demanding against hers, which certainly surrendered to his touch.

With her hands resting beside his hips, gripping the counter with the last of her self-control, the girl let herself take the initiative, pressing her tongue against his lips – a contented sigh escaped Jackie, accompanied by a murmur of contentment.

This kiss was slower, deeper.His hand, which had been holding her waist, made its way under her uniform, feeling her soft, warm skin as if she could finally experience the warmth of the sun after years of winter. Ignoring the way she lost herself in the rhythm of the kiss when the tips of his fingers caressed her stomach, he pulled away, searching for her eyes.

They were still close, mouths pressed together, breaths mingling, and he could clearly see those dilated pupils as if she had just downed a shot of alcohol. His beautiful girl was too sensitive for her own good.

"What were ya talking about before?" And Jackie's fingers moved up, dangerously high, and he was surprised when she didn't say anything. No "not here" or "the boys" as usual – and that suddenly made him a little more anxious about it all. This newfound freedom was too exciting for a boy who hadn't touched his girlfriend in two torturous weeks.

He felt her ribs, felt her lungs expanding in a fascinating way and —

"Jackie! Jackie! Jackie!" Marlon yelled down the hallway as if announcing the end of times, and they moved away with such violence that the girl fell backward into the poor refrigerator, which rattled on impact "I want to eat too! Randy said Mom went to the market and you were in charge, i want some too!"Jackie wanted to strangle Marlon.

"Are you two starving? What is that, man, it's not even three!" He sounded a little more breathless than he intended, and running his fingers across his face, the air escaped heavily "I don't even know what to give him, don't bother me too"And letting out a discontented sound, Marlon rolled his eyes, walking away with heavy steps.

Searching for his girlfriend with his eyes, the Jackson let out one of those sounds — tiredness, anger, boredom — that mixed all the emotions he carried in his chest, letting his forehead fall onto her shoulder. It was a losing battle trying to have a moment alone with all those children there.

"I wonder how ma and Joseph managed to do us, god lord" And that phrase elicited a loud "Jackie!" from the girl, who made one of the most disgusted faces she could muster, denying it as if the mere thought was too terrifying to even threaten to become a thought "I'm serious"

And even though he tried to remain serious, that little laugh that escaped her immediately brought a smile to his own lips. He had missed those moments so much, when everything seemed irrelevant compared to her touch, and resting one hand on the refrigerator, he leaned in, stealing a scent from her neck.

"Do you think she'll be long?" The question snapped him out of his little trance, and nodding, the boy didn't dare move.

"She always uses the excuse of going to the market to disappear for a bit, Randy keeps driving her crazy every day that passes" Looking into her eyes, Jackie remained silent for a few seconds, trying to think of some possibility of privacy that the small house could offer – while his innocent girl simply ran her fingers through his hair, gently scrunching his afro.

"We could always go to the movies when she's here, later"

And he shook his head, his expression tightening into something more pious "I don't want the movies, i want you, i want to talk to you" And he took a step forward, trapping her between his body and the wall that divided the kitchen from the hallway "I haven't seen you in two weeks, don't you dare try to put us in a dark room with some random movie"

She gave a mischievous little smile.

"Even if it's a different kind of dark room?" And Jackie parted her lips, but no sound came out.

"Who are you and what have you done with my sweet girl?" And letting out a weak laugh, he moved his hands to her waist, fingers gripping the cotton fabric of her uniform as she looked at him proudly "Should i worry about what happened these past two weeks or simply believe that you missed me to this extent?"

And abandoning the most innocent expression she knew, the girl replied "Worry about what? I just been thinking about you"

Thinking about you.

Those words hit Jackson in a strange way, and even now, hours after hearing them, he simply couldn't let them go. Watching her sit on the floor away from her shoes and intently observing the papers Jermaine was showing her, he couldn't help but ponder what he could do.

She had given him every possible sign that tonight could be the night, and he was simply staring at her like the biggest fool in the universe, watching her help his younger brother with some math homework – when had he become so cowardly? The same boy who climbed her window during summer vacation to have a kiss now had everything he wanted and was waiting for the universe to be merciful to him?

Oh no, he wanted it, and he was going to make it happen.

Dragging his arm away from Michael – who was practically passed out after getting bored enough with the news channel – he crawled to the edge of the sofa, tilting his head to watch what the pair of students were doing.

Jermaine had already given up on his own lesson, his cheek resting on his palm as he simply nodded without really paying attention to her explanation about the value of x, or something like that. And letting out a lazy yawn, the Jackson said "Mhm, don't you want to do it for me and i give it to the teacher? It would be a great gift for your favorite brother-in-law"

And with a wry expression, the girl searched for the little Jacksons, encountering the cutest scene of all – Michael was lying curled up like a baby next to Jackie while Marlon and Randy shared a cushion near the arm of the sofa, melting into a mixture of tiny legs and arms.

"Don't let him blackmail you, ma" And earning an annoyed look from his brother, the older Jackson stood up, using the remote control in his hand to give Maine a light tap on the head, who immediately complained "And you, stop bothering my girl!" Shaking his head, the girl gave her boyfriend a disapproving look, closing the notebooks in front of her, searching for the bluish pencil case to store the pens that had been scattered around.

The teenager looked at her as if he expected her to verbally defend him.

"I was just helping him" And standing up, she preferred to ignore Jermaine sticking her tongue out at his older brother before it melted into one of their arguments that always ended with one of them trying to defend their own honor in a fight on the ground.

Heading towards her shoes, she slipped her feet into her black Mary Janes effortlessly, her eyes fixed on the half-open window. It was getting dark, and she knew that if she didn't go home soon, her parents probably wouldn't let the Jacksons' phone rest.

Jackie was about to give Jermaine a light tap on the back of the neck when he noticed her girlfriend's heavy sigh, immediately understanding the reason for her discomfort.

"Do you want to go back now?" And with that question, he moved towards her, placing a loving hand on her lower back, thumb gently trying to push away the worry that gripped her beautiful face.

"Want is an exaggeration, but yes, Mom must already be at the door waiting for me" And that thought alone brought a grimace to the boy's face. He had nothing against her parents – nothing specific to be exact – but something about their serious expressions and harsh words didn't sit well with him. He specifically remembered the day she insisted he introduce their boyfriend to her father, a former war veteran who looked at Jackie as if he were the very reincarnation of evil.

And it was no surprise that even after a trembling handshake and a certainly uncomfortable dinner, their relationship had more rules than a military academy.The privilege of having her in his home was one he carried with pride, since in that environment of white walls and beautiful paintings, the last thing he could dream of was going upstairs. Nodding, he was the next to adjust his shoes, understanding that insisting was out of the question now.

"Look the boys, Jermaine" And nodding a few times, the teenager looked at the girl with a slightly more restrained smile.

"Bye" he said, waving, clearly feeling proud at the affectionate look he received.

"Bye Maine, we'll finish the lessons tomorrow"

The young couple's fingers met immediately in a lazy intertwining as their coordinated steps led them toward the front door. The afternoon was set with a yellowish hue in the sky and the streets were empty; Katherine was probably on her way back considering Joseph would be arriving soon.

Opening the door for her, Jackie sighed when they were finally alone again.

"You know, today didn't go at all like i planned" he admitted, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close as they walked in the opposite direction from where her bicycle still lay – he made a mental note to put it away when he was walking back home.Gaining a pair of curious eyes, the older one continued.

"I was planning, y'know, to spend the whole afternoon in my girl's arms and vice versa" He stuck the tip of his tongue out at her, trying to disguise his annoyance with a playful gesture "I knew we wouldn't have the room – we never did, but i thought that at least once the boys would understand that i needed you"

And for a few moments she didn't answer, her eyes falling to his feet as her thoughts wandered. She agreed, obviously, their house was small enough that intimacy was practically impossible, but denying that she wasn't upset about not having more time alone was a lie.Raising her fingers to his that rested on her shoulder, she finally sighed.

"I think they're too small for this" she sighed "I understand they missed me too, but it's kind of frustrating wanting to be able to do things that simply take two of us and at the same time depend on everyone around us" And resting her cheek on her boyfriend's shoulder, she practically hummed in a lower tone.

"But in due time"

Approaching her house, they both frowned when neither the image of the grumpy old woman nor her father's crimson car could be seen. And feeling a chill of nervousness run through her, she detached herself from her boyfriend's arms, climbing the white stairs with slightly clumsy steps.

The door was open.

"Mom?" And she looked back at Jackie with that worried face that made him walk ahead of her impatiently, taking the initiative to open the door to observe the meticulously organized house completely empty – except for the small orange kitten that purred silently at the foot of the stairs.

"How weird" Jackson said, noticing all the lights were on, and his eyes caught the figure of his girl as she scanned the entire room with her gaze.

And then, a note.

That piece of paper with the strawberry jam drawing that Mom had gotten at the market weeks ago, marked with a black pen in beautifully formal handwriting;

"Your aunt is having the baby, your mother and i are going to the Jesus Memorial.

Lock the doors and go to bed before midnight.

No boyfriend.

Dad x"

And the Jackson's eyes widened as his girlfriend turned to him with the biggest smile he'd seen in hours, his fingers releasing the door with a slightly loud bang as she showed him the note, which took him a few seconds to read because of her anxious jumps.

No words were needed.

Jackie practically attacked her with an eager kiss that cried out for relief, the kiss he'd been thinking about for two long weeks finally able to be expressed without curious eyes or the anxiety of being caught. His large hands held her waist, keeping her where she was so that his mouth could press firmly against hers, her head tilting towards his as the only sound in the room was that of their lips colliding.

The girl threw her arms around his shoulders, letting her fingers get tangled in his curly hair, ensuring that he wouldn't pull away from her under any circumstances. A clash of teeth and they smiled against each other's mouths, before melting again in that sinuous, desperate exchange.

Without much effort, he turned her against the wall, one hand resting beside her face while his tongue demanded attention – testing her mouth as if it were the first and last time.

Melting into a low sound, her fingers found the nape of his neck effortlessly, needing to cling to something. Jackie had never kissed her in such a demanding way, and keeping up with his pace was certainly difficult when her whole body seemed to have melted into a trembling, needy mass.

Hearing that small sound from her awakened something obscene in him, and releasing her lips completely breathless, the Jackson stared at his girlfriend with an adoration bordering on obsession, pupils exploding in a glow that reflected her face, his chest rising and falling as his lungs begged for air.

She unconsciously squeezed her own legs together – And God, the almost mocking smile he gave her at the sight altered her brain chemistry. "How lucky we are" he whispered, his voice hoarse from the previous exercise, making the girl's stomach churn in the best possible way "Why don't you take me to your room and show me that nice thing you mentioned earlier, mhm?" And using his fingers to brush some fingers away from her face, Jackson felt a wicked pride at seeing how flushed his girl was.

She could try to be calm and direct, and well, she knew how to tease him, but he knew his little thing like the back of his hand to know that she was ready to run the second he let go, something he wouldn't dare do for anything in the world.

"Come here" he sounded, and before he could really get an answer, he used his arms to lift her off the ground with ridiculous ease "Pretty girls shouldn't have to put in this much effort, should they?" And letting out an embarrassed giggle, she simply put her arms around the older boy's shoulders, accepting to be carried in that bridal style.

"I didn't know you were this strong" she said in a low tone, watching his steps on the stairs, purposefully ignoring the stare she received in response "Sorry, i'm nervous" And he simply laughed as he pushed open the bedroom door with the tip of his foot.

The girl's room was like a sanctuary of innocence – baby blue walls adorned with random posters, mostly featuring a young Paul McCartney who threatened the Jackson within her heart daily. Her double bed was in the middle of the room, impeccably adorned with white blankets and pillows that seemed too inviting at that moment.

Jackie carefully placed the girl on the floor, closing the door behind her without bothering to look at it. The cream-colored carpet in her room reminded him to immediately remove his shoes, and observing the act – she did the same, a little hastily tripping over her own ankles.

She was so cute, a bundle of nerves and trembling fingers that made him simply want to jump on her again.

"Can you, um, can you sit down?" The girl offered eagerly, rushing to lock the door with an anxious turn of the key that carried a pink pom-pom with it "So i can, you know?" The Jackson smiled, as if wanting to hear it so he could "Go ahead, Jackie" And melting into a laugh, he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"As you say, ma'am" And obediently sinking onto her mattress, the boy rested his hands on his own thighs, not making the slightest effort to disguise the reaction his body was having to all of this. He knew that it wasn't the first time she'd seen him like this – he liked to tease her by showing his body reaction to her, and he knew exactly how shy she would be about it

.And like an old story, the more than present sign of the bulge in the boy's pants was enough for the girl to feel her blood boil in every part of her body, but especially her lower parts. She moved in front of him, a little shaky, her legs seemingly not fully obeying her brain, but even so, Jackson's heavy breathing was what encouraged her. He wanted this too; he found her beautiful, well, she hoped he did.

A pair of awkward fingers was all Jackie remembered seeing before the surprise of her lifting her own shirt made him forget any thought other than the way her skin practically glowed against the light of the room, and he had to restrain himself from opening his mouth in shock. The waist he loved to trace with his hands, now perfectly in view, awakened a needy possessiveness that made his fingers tremble.

Those beautiful breasts, molded by pink lace that left nothing to the imagination, made him unconsciously move his own hips against the covers; she was panting. He could see it. The small, perfectly shaped mounds on her skin called to him, and raising his fingers toward her, he called.

"Come here, mama" Deep enough that she chose herself before obediently walking toward the older one, settling between his legs with a shy little smile that made it all the more irritatingly perfect "That's it, god damn girl, you've been hiding this from me all this time?"And without much ceremony, his fingers circled her, the warm touch of their skin sounding like an electric shock between the two young people.

Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against the upper part of his girl's stomach, breathing her skin like an addict who can finally have what he's been craving. She was hot. In every sense of the word, he simply wanted to grab that girl and hide her from the world in his arms.

Feeling her fingers gently touch the nape of his neck, his eyes closed, taking advantage of the moment to press a kiss to her navel – a smile forming on his lips as he felt the shiver of her skin.

"Did you like it?" she asked, and he wanted to laugh, genuinely laugh as if he'd heard the greatest joke of his life. The love of Sigmund's life presented to him in the most delicate lingerie, and those eyes that held the stars themselves asking if he liked it? Silly girl.

And not daring to answer, he simply closed his fingers against the curve of her waist, holding her more firmly so he could trace a path of slow kisses down her stomach, alternating between quick pecks and small kisses that soon melted at the touch of his tongue. Her breathing changed, and he knew he was doing the right thing when he left a small bite on her skin. Feeling the way she was trembling, the Jackson's fingers slid down her legs, making sure to give her ass a light squeeze before easily guiding her thighs, lifting her onto his lap.

The weight of their bodies felt right, too right for both of them to let out an intense sigh of excitement at the sensation of their new closeness.

Looking up, he leaned searching for her lips – a calmer kiss, but one that felt infinitely more intimate now that she could feel how his body reacted to hers. Jackie seemed big, he felt big, and the idea of simply sitting there, even over his clothes, on the concentrating of all his pleasure, made her head spin. Her hands molded his chest, feeling the muscular shape of her boyfriend with a slow caress, taking care to admire every little detail of his skin with the slow dragging of her nails.

And that's when he did it.

The hands that had previously held her thighs had silently moved to her hips, and with a tempting firmness Jackie dragged her hips against his. It was a pleasure capable of making one swoon, like a whole line of coke, and so addictive that she found herself imitating the same movement seconds after him – it was obscene, dirty to think that she was rubbing herself against his cock like someone desperate.

But that was the thing, she was desperate.

Desperate for this warm sensation that made her body vibrate, for this closeness to him that became more addictive with each passing second, she loved Jackie, infinitely, and something about that kind of intimacy seemed to be a silent confirmation that he at least thought the same about her.

Her forehead pressed against his with a low sound as the boy moved his hips, grinding against her in a way that felt too deep for two people fully clothed. Her fingers digging into her boyfriend's shirt, the girl barely noticed when a low moan escaped her, hesitant and shy, but there.

And the smile that spread across his lips was immediate, and even trying to cope with his own torture of pleasure, Jackson murmured, "That's it, sweet girl – keep going mama, nice and slow" Using his hands to rhythmically guide her hungry and anxious movements, which she obviously obeyed, following that slow back and forth "See how much i missed you, mhm?"

And with a shy look she searched for the boy's bright eyes, not bothering to break that somewhat awkward angle they had; their foreheads pressed together and noses close gave a loving feeling to the moment, as they shared the same air.Shaking her head, a small giggle escaped, a low, trembling sound that was quickly silenced by the boy's mouth pressing against hers, stealing any straight thought she might have dreamed of having.

Depending the kiss, her fingers moved to Jackson's beautifully sculpted jaw, forcing him to lift his own head towards her.Jackie exhaled heavily, one hand searching for her hair, holding it exactly where she should be. Taking advantage of the position, her hands became bolder, caressing his face with firm thumbs and medium-length nails gently scratching his dark skin – she was all over him before he could even think. Her hands moved greedily over the boy's chest, feeling what was all hers, fingers tugging at his shirt as if it were a right simply to be revoked.

Obeying immediately, their kiss was broken by the fabric being lifted along with Sigmund's arms, who smiled as he watched his girl simply drool at the sign of his body. He knew he was hot, come on, the days at the gym had to have some result, hm? And having this beautiful lady practically staring at his chest as if it were the most beautiful of banquets was more than he could pray for.

"Oh god" she whispered, so breathless that he wanted to laugh, her hand dangerously resting on the boy's muscular stomach making him bit his lower lip at the movement "You're hot"

And he raised an eyebrow.

"Thanks for the news, miss" And with a weak laugh, he used his own hands to adjust her on his lap, making the new proximity press their skin together. And as she said, oh God, they knew the moment their feverish bodies finally touched without anything creating a thin layer between them, that they were completely lost.

Searching again for the nape of her neck, he added "And who are you to call me hot when you look like the very vision of heaven here, mhm? All nice and pink like a damn princess just for me" His fingers caressed her back in circular motions, simply enjoying her well-hydrated skin before the tips of his fingers teased the clasp of her bra.

"Did you buy this just for me?" And she nodded, her face too hot and embarrassed to admit she'd been smuggling lunch money for weeks just to surprise her handsome boy "Am i right, Mama?"Ah, right, voice, she certainly had one.

"I, uh, yes, i did it" She sighed, feeling her own hand pressed between their stomachs, her eyes falling on the dirty scene of her breasts pressed against Jackie's skin — it was a contrast surely from heaven and hell "I don't know what you like — I tried, but i thought this one was pretty, so, y'know? It was the least..."

And he hummed softly.

"What do i like?" He asked, leaning down to bury his face in her neck, intoxicated by the scent that simply emanated from his beloved "I think you didn't understand that you could be dressed in a damn potato sack and you'd still be the most beautiful girl in the whole place" And to emphasize his words, he pressed a heavy kiss where her blood pumped wildly.

"I just want to say one thing" The small whisper sounded against her skin, and well, the Jackson could ask for the deed to her house in that low, breathless tone and she would hand it over without a second thought "I loved seeing you like this"

And his lips moved to her shoulder, pressing a few arrhythmic kisses "But don't go spending your money on me, mhm?" A few more kisses

.Jackie was nudging the lace strap with his nose while continuing that little attack on her shoulder, fingers squeezing wherever he could reach "If you want to wear something pretty for me — for you, just tell me it'll be yours, you know that, yeah? All the money i earn is yours, just say so..."

And even if she wanted to retort, to say that it was insane to say, it was practically impossible when her body was having an anxiety attack from having less and less of the lace on her. A small sound was heard as he finally freed her from the small lock, and for a split second the two remained silent. It was a big step, and this night was full of them to be truly reasoned through.

Her skin immediately prickled as the air of the room made contact with her breasts, softly hanging from the pink lace and free to the boy's eyes. Swallowing hard, she had to fight the urge to cover herself. She never thought too much about that part of her body that she so normally encountered in the mirror, but now, under Jackie's bright eyes and unreadable expression — she herself didn't know what to think.

He, however, seemed to have had his ground pulled out from under him and his house turned upside down.

He would marry her.

It was the only thing he could think about, he needed to — he would steal this girl from the world and simply hide her for himself.

His thumbs, oh so gently, caressed the curve of her ribs, testing the weight she carried, and his breath trembled, feeling how warm she was there, how soft her skin was, and the feeling that all of this was only his brought him a possessiveness capable of turning any eyes green.

"God damn" And he didn't fight the smile that spread across his lips at her giggle; his body felt so light, and he was so happy. It was one of the rare times he simply was. Without the pressure of rehearsals, without having to walk slowly so as not to irritate Joe, without the responsibility of taking care of the boys.

He was simply a guy with the girl he loved.With a small act of boldness, she pressed her fingers into his shoulder, forcing him to lie down on the bed. And Jackie? Well, if she wanted to simply use him and throw him away, he would gladly do so! The dumbass grin plastered on his face made that more than clear.

Focused on the beautiful pair of eyes in front of him, he didn't wait long before taking them in his hands, holding them firmly – his eyes searching for any disapproval from his girl, who watched him intently, trying to decipher what she truly felt at that moment. The first squeeze was hesitant, testing the waters of how she would feel about it.

And that heavy breathing, her eyes closing. To say his whole body throbbed with pleasure would be to diminish the intoxicating desire that almost made him lose it.Her fingers rested on his chest seeking comfort as her body seemed to melt into his, and the thoughts that immediately surged through the Jackson's mind didn't help his situation – this beautiful girl sitting on his lap, giving him a view of the most beautiful pair of boobs he had ever seen in his entire life? He definitely wanted to rip her pants off as quickly as possible and show her the best of that position.

"Your hands are so good" she practically whimpered, face tilting to the side, causing a few strands of hair to cover her eyes. A small sound escaped his throat as Jackie's only concern was to lean in at her collarbone.

The first kiss was soft, a gentle seal of lips between her breasts, and another one right on top of her heart. He paused for a few seconds feeling how it desperately pounced against his lips, his hands sliding to her waist, holding her there.

"Yeah, baby?" And with that soft question, he continued his little attack simply loving the way her breath caught in her throat at certain moments before returning slower and more disordered "They're all yours, just so you know" he murmured against her skin before parting his lips, taking one of her breasts completely.

The sensation was otherworldly.Accompanied by a breathless moan, she simply couldn't contain that desire that made her bones tremble and her insides burn. Her hips dragged against Jackie's, who gasped against her skin – both seeking relief with the greatest possible contact. He held her tightly while his tongue caressed her skin.

The movements were anxious, without a set rhythm, but good enough for a sound to escape him, and that small moan that sounded so hoarse from Jackson made her feel a kind of twisted pride. She barely knew what she was doing, but to elicit a moan from her beautiful boy? She wanted to devour that sound and discover what other sounds he was capable of producing.

The sound he did while sucking her breast was obscene, something wet that was subtly interrupted when he managed to put his whole mouth on it – eyes closed as if he were exactly where he wanted to be.

Squeezing him with her thighs, the girl found herself in a slow back-and-forth rhythm, seeking to relieve that maddening heat between her legs. And trying to follow her own rhythm, Jackie thrusted shamelessly, showing exactly how good all those tireless rehearsals had been for her.

The way she could feel the exact shape of his cock was shameless, and those pants didn't do much to hide how big it was, frighteningly and addictively – it was an feeling that caused a desire similar to hunger, no, to starving, she needed more, she needed the heat, the size, of him.

A breathless moan escaped Jackie's lips as she paused her movements for a few second "Oh, love...hmph, fuck girl – you can't just..." And he rested his forehead against her shoulder, murmuring words oh so quiet they were barely audible, his lips releasing a heavy breath.

But she didn't stop; in fact, she only increased the intensity of her movements.His eyes closed as her hips continued to rub against that sweet spot, and letting his face fall back, the boy parted his lips, letting out nothing but a gasp of air "Right there...Fuck – Ah!" He seemed about to say something, but then stopped, lost in the intensity of his breath.

It was divine to see how the Jackson was reacting, his body was so hot it emanated heat, and his hips had a rhythm of their own, pushing against her almost desperately while his large hands gripped her tightly, his movements faster – losing that coordinated back-and-forth motion.

"Ah mama...There, keep on – Fuck, don't stop" repeated her name almost like a mantra, holding his girl with a possessiveness bordering on aggression, which soon melted into a panting groan that sounded almost painful from his chest, his voice caught in his throat, his gasps of breath.His hips trembled with a few stronger thrusts before slowing down, his fingers guiding her down as if he needed to feel her more and more.

And the girl? Well, to say she was completely enchanted was an understatement.

Jackie, in that state, had simply become her religion – she could devote herself to the way his eyebrows tightened in an almost painful expression and worship the spasms his hips gave daily.He was so beautiful, but so much more perfect melted into that simply magnetic expression.

Letting out a final gasp, the boy let his body fall onto her bed. lazy and melted.

"I – i just, damn it...!" He gasped, his chest rising and falling, a few strands of hair clinging to his sweaty forehead, adding a dirtier, more intimate touch to everything "M'sorry baby...I just, hell, i didn't think i was that close"

And that brought a curious look to her face, which took her two embarrassing seconds to understand what had happened before her lips parted.

"You just...?" And with a laugh at her genuine surprise, Jackie nodded, bringing her arm to cover her eyes for a few seconds, trying to regain what little self-control she still had.

"Yeah, i came in my pants like a damn teen" The boy's lips twitched into a cheeky little smile, too mischievous to be considered truly embarrassing "What did two weeks without you did to me? Lord"

And all that atmosphere melted into a giggle that bubbled from her chest, her body melting into his, equally lying on her boyfriend's burning skin "That was fast" And the Jackson looked at her as if he had just received a whole slap in the face.

"Wow, thanks for the compliment, girl, come on, get off me!" And he threatened to push her away, but she refused with a louder laugh, clinging to his body for her life.

"It was a joke!" Smiling, she let her arms wrap around the boy's shoulders, squeezing him tightly "It was cute, actually" And still trying to catch his breath, Jackie closed his eyes, simply shaking her head.

"Can you just shut your pretty mouth, my princess?" And he could practically feel her energy emanating in waves towards him, which made it difficult to maintain that little scene. For a few seconds, they remained there, sprawled on the crumpled blankets, trying to regulate their own breathing, simply suffocated in that intimate and silent atmosphere.

Imitating him, the girl closed her eyes for a few seconds, letting her face hide in the curve of his neck, deeply inhaling Jackie's scent, far from any alteration of perfume and completely him.

Letting his fingers rest on her bare back, he pressed his cheek against the girl's messy hair.

⋆. 𐙚˚࿔𝐓𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Quincy Jones had made an unimaginable mistake.

Prince couldn't care less about his requests to record a song with Michael – he knew he wouldn't – and there wasn't a single person on earth who could change his mind, yet he still went to the older man's house to read the lyrics Jackson had written.

And that was, to put it mildly, the worst thing anyone had ever wanted him to do. The lyrics, the video, everything was ridiculous to the point that his indifference melted into an obvious disgust that twisted his face every time he remembered that moment.

Nelson wasn't a vengeful man, obviously not.

But the moment he laid eyes on you, wild curves and skin as dark as the chocolate you always loved to eat, oh so bitter, like him – he knew he had a purpose the second your red-painted lips whispered that name, Jones. With a grin that showed he knew exactly who he was and what he wanted, Prince made his way into your heart all too easily.

It wasn't difficult for him, actually. This black goodness, possessing the most beautiful body he had ever seen in his years, surrendering to his words effortlessly? He was a charmer, and having you wrapped around him like one of the most venomous snakes was exactly what he wanted.

He knew your father would freak out; no, Quincy would want to kill him if he even knew what was happening.

The bathtub filled with hot water, creating a soft melody in the background as Prince watched you intently in the mirror. Your naked body glistened with a thin layer of sweat that brought back memories of past moments — fingers worked to remove the earrings that had been forgotten the moment Nelson's lips pressed against yours.

"You always look at me in that way that i don't know if you want to kill me or kiss me"

His attention then drifted to the pair of eyes watching him in the mirror, a bright smile and wine-colored lipstick subtly smudged on her lips. It was a beautiful mess, one he would proudly sign as the main artist.

Frowning, the young man didn't move, leaning against the sink waiting for the water to finish draining, a towel lazily wrapped around his waist, his curly hair loose and wild – he hated leaving it like that, completely out of place.But at that moment, it was your privilege to do so.

"And you always say the strangest things when i'm simply looking at you"

Another smile was inevitable; you looked so silly when you were with him, and the fact that you had just made the sweetest love known to man a few minutes ago didn't help your urge to simply laugh like a maniac "It's not strange" And your body turned towards him "If i were staring at you in complete silence, what would you think, mhm?"

And this time it was his turn to smile, a gentle lift of the corners of his lips that certainly made your heart skip a beat.

"You already do, except for the fact that instead of silence, you always have that smile" Prince tilted his head to the side, letting out a solitary chuckle "From someone who knows exactly what i do with her" And this time, you melted into a giggle.

He was so arrogant, and the funniest part? He was always annoyingly right.

Taking a few steps toward the man, you stopped when you were directly facing him, heads at the same height, your unruly hair making you a few inches taller, and leaning subtly you added "You should smile at me like that, then, because you know what i can do to you too"

And he looked at you, his fingers immediately finding your bare waist in a familiar, reverent touch — he knew that you knew, that was the thing between you, you knew each other even if things hadn't really been said.

"Do i?" Nelson asked in a lower tone, gently leaning toward you until the tips of your noses were subtly touching "You can't deny you're enjoying this, though, can you?" And he let out a soft breath as your fingers touched the opposite side of his body, tracing the curve of his own waist, mirroring his touch.

Nelson's fingers moved freely against your bare skin, searching for the middle of your back to pull her towards him, small breasts pressing against his chest in a clash of temperatures. He was chilled by the night's cold while your body still raced, hot and electric, even after long minutes of the thrill having subsided.

"You like to tease him as much as i do" And his eyes closed the moment their mouths touched, a mutual sigh mingling their breaths as the boy's tongue immorally found its way into her mouth. The kiss was almost lazy, lingering just long enough for her body to rest against him, seeking support for that comfortable dance "You like the danger"

His free hand moved to your neck, threading his fingers through on your wavy hair, guiding head upwards, towards him.

Prince let out a small sound of contentment when you finally surrendered to his rhythm, his own lips devouring your mouth as if clamoring for what belonged to him — he knew you were ruined for anyone after this and wanted to rub it in your face with every kiss who truly held that little key to your body.

Your fingers tightened around his waist, guiding him towards you, while your other hand searching for his jawline, trying to find something to hold onto.

His fingers slid from your back towards your shoulders tracing a slow path, his fingertips tracing the small bone of your collar, and then descending, touching the space between your breasts in a caress that enveloped his entire hand, feeling your skin and the way it obediently shivered for him.

With each small stroke he made sure to slowly move his hand upwards, searching for the curve of your neck, his thumb separating from his other fingers as Prince molded your throat like the most beautiful necklace you'd ever possessed.

Your mouth lost its rhythm when that happened, and he smiled against your lips, knowing the reaction he was having in your body "Something, darling?" And without waiting for an answer, he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, and another to your cheek, and before you could follow his lead, Nelson was practically devouring your neck with open, wet kisses.

His fingers delved into your hair, gently taking a handful of strands that lifted your face upwards.His hand released your hair, quick and purposeful, molding the lower part of your thigh to guide it around his hip.

You were ready to moan out to him when you felt something wet touch your foot, and your eyes widened "Prince..." And looking at the bathtub that was beginning to overflow, your fingers quickly pushed away the man who looked at you offended "Prince!"

"Mhm? Oh, perfect" he exclaimed boredly, not bothering to let go of you as he released your hair so you could stretch and turn off the bathtub faucet.

⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Nine long months had passed since the confirmation that your little boy was growing inside you.

Michael had screamed for two whole minutes when the doctor confirmed the two small lines that had previously appeared on the test, and despite your pleas for him to save his voice, nothing mattered at that moment. He had finally — by your side, achieved something he had begged God for all his life.

A family.

A small family that brought a smile to his face when his eyes opened in the morning, watching you sleep wrapped in that maternity pillow he had bought you, and that made him smile when, before going to bed, he hummed little melodies to the restless little boy in your belly.

He was so, so anxious to meet his baby. Would he have his brown eyes? Your blue ones? And his hair? Would it be blond and straight or curly and dark like his family's? Would little Prince be a shy and quiet boy like his daddy, or an energetic and expansive child like his mama?

And oh, his mama.

Michael loved you with all his soul.

All those nights alone in Indiana, in California, all the harsh and hurtful words he heard during his time on earth seemed like nothing more than a whisper from the day he met you. Your smile, so shy and apprehensive that soon became big and free, was what gave him a reason to live; your scent, which permeated his clothes, made him love every piece you stubbornly washed.

He couldn't believe that a woman like you loved a man like him.

You were sweet and risky, you loved and cared for him enough to keep away anyone who hurt him as if they were hurting you; your arms held him on the nights when he silently poured out his heart in desperate tears and repetitive sobs — you had all parts of him, absolutely all of them.

Michael would rip his heart out of his chest and give it to you if you asked, no, if you even thought about it.

You two were in the kitchen of your old apartment together, sometimes when the routine became heavy and the ranch hallways too big, your hideaway was there. The lilac walls seemed frozen in time, as did the pictures scattered throughout the rooms, photos from the beginning of the two of you, a shyly smiling Michael and you beautifully embraced with him in all of them.

A Jackson's 5 compilation played on the radio while you waited for the lasagna to bake, both of you standing in front of the oven simply enjoying the image of the cheese being gratinated to the sound of Big Boy.

Michael's brown eyes searched for you after a few seconds of admiring the image in front of him. Your belly was already swollen enough that you had given up on any clothes — and you would never wear those maternity dresses — resulting in you wearing one of his t-shirts with the Bambi print stretched to an almost comical level and gray sweatpants that left the lower part of your belly exposed.

Your face was subtly tilted to the side, strands of hair tied in a lazy ponytail that let a few strands fall towards your face, your glasses being the only thing preventing them from fully touching your face.

One of your hands rested on the counter, engulfed by his fingers that played with the tips of your gel nails — the other, instinctively rested on your stomach in a repetitive circular motion.

'Cause I'm a big boy now (big boy)

"I get so sad hearing your little voice" You suddenly said in a low tone that, if he hadn't been staring at you, he might have lost the words "More so now, obviously, but i always feel like crying when i think about that little Michael" And your eyes searched for him, and oh, your furrowed brows and melting face in that tearful tone.

Trying to lift your spirits, he let out a soft sound, something like a laugh and a sigh "And why cry, mama? It's all over now, isn't it?" And he approached you with two small steps, his free hand reaching your lower back with a gentle touch.

Swallowing hard, your throat was already tightening simply from having those bright eyes focused on you. No matter how much time had passed, he still carried that gentleness and warmth that came from nothing but his pure heart. The Jackson had been so, so mistreated that sometimes she felt angry at herself for not having appeared in his life sooner.

Raising one of your hands, your fingers found his cheek in a gentle caress, thumb stroking the now pale skin there "It's still unfair" And that murmur your enough for him to tilt his face towards her fingers, pressing a soft kiss to your fingertips.

Michael slid his arms around your waist, trying somehow to pull you into a hug — something that was obviously interrupted by little Prince resting in the womb — and even though he insisted, the closest thing between them was their stomachs pressing against each other, which made both of them melt into a giggle.

"I think–" And with another soft chuckle, he turned you around, finally pressing your whole body against his in a natural, destined fit, his chin immediately meeting your shoulder as his fingers caressing the exposed part of your stomach "This is better"

Silently nodding your head, you let out a low sound of contentment that accompanied the gentle swaying you immediately shared "I hope Prince shows you that you can be an amazing father, a real father"

And for the first time, Michael went silent.

"You usually don't listen to me when i say this kind of thing, but" Your fingers sought his, intertwining so that their gold wedding rings gleamed against the yellowish light of the room "I hope you know that everything that happened – Joseph, your siblings, your childhood, everything, nothing defines the person you are, love"

"You're just so good for this world, you know? Nobody deserves you, i don't deserve you" And they both shared a synchronized smile "And even though you like me being a little mean, you're so, so pure, that if our baby is even one percent like you, he'll already be better than all the people who hurt you, y'know?"

And Michael remained silent, but this time, his eyes closed as his forehead hid in the crook of your neck. He didn't know how to deal with your words, he didn't know how to accept that he simply hadn't deserved everything that had happened in his life — but he knew better than to argue with you.

It was ironic how his attempt to make you stop crying became an internal battle to keep himself from crying. And the silence that unfolded in the kitchen was natural, the ticking of the electric oven and the humming radio becoming strangely pleasant.

You stayed like that for a few seconds, simply embracing and wrapping yourselves in each other's warmth when the next song began to play.

You and I must make a pact...

We must bring salvation back..

Where there is love...

And when he heard that familiar sniffle, his face immediately lifted with a pious little smile "Mama?" And he felt like laughing when he came across that pout that was capable of convincing him to fetch the moon and put it in a bouquet "Come on, this is supposed to be a love song"

And with your face wet with tears, one of your hands rose to cover your face "Turn it off, Michael, turn it off, i don't want to hear this one" And Michael laughed as he leaned in to kiss your salty cheek.

"I'll be thereee" And he hummed in your ear, following his own voice in that melody so distant yet so familiar "I'll be there to comfort you"

⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ 𝔽𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕪𝕒...2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The morning passed like a thunderclap, the girl's only concern being keeping her hair meticulously styled in that high, Priscilla Presley-style ponytail that earned her a rare compliment from her mother. Anxious feet moved through the hotel's main hall searching for the exit towards the pool, while she squeezed the new tube of sunscreen between her fingers.

Dad had joked about how she looked like a vampire after using up an entire tube of sunscreen; she hadn't had the heart to tell him that her fifteen dollars were wandering somewhere in that hotel with an embarrassed smile and red cheeks. But it had earned her a new tube, at least.

The sun was practically blazing that morning, and the lenses of her glasses were immediately replaced with the heart-shaped frames she had received from her Aunt Marcia. Their prescription was a little weak for her, but at that moment, not going blind was more important than actually being able to see.

Her eyes scanned the slightly squinted room, nothing of them, and the lack of tall, beautifully sculpted Afro figures certainly brought a frustrated sigh to her face as her body rested against the white chair, her slippers lazily abandoned on the floor as legs crossed in front of her.

The sun was pleasant, and even though the smell of chlorine emanating from the pool subtly bothered her, the way her shoulders relaxed against the material beneath her certainly made that fact irrelevant.

Fingers clutching her closed glasses, the air left her lungs along with a closing of eyes. Where could they be? Had they left the hotel and she had lost all her chances with one of the boys? Damn it, don't be so negative! Not everyone spent the afternoon stuck in the hotel pool when they were in California, and the boys certainly seemed old enough to go out and have some fun.

Which one of them was the oldest? Perhaps Jackie, because he was drinking, or the nameless boy, he was quite tall, and even if one thing didn't mean the other, you could think of it.

Reaching for the tube of sunscreen that rested beside her, the girl placed a good amount of the whitish cream in the palm of her hand, spreading the product over her legs — a small sound of pain escaped as the cut on her knee burned upon contact; she had shaved her legs at lightning speed that morning, which certainly left her with some minor injuries.

Focused on small task in hand, she barely noticed when a subtly apprehensive figure approached, causing the brunette to jump slightly when a pair of legs suddenly stopped beside her, eyes rising almost immediately as did the small smile that dominated her lips.

Marlon.

"Jesus, do you like scaring people?" She asked, letting out a muffled sound, almost like a laugh but too breathless to actually be one. He stared at her a little quieter now, not carrying that posture he had beside his brother, but he was certainly sure of what he was doing. He wore a simple, navy blue shorts that outlined the curve of his pelvis in an intriguing way.

He was muscular, not in an exaggerated way, but enough to notice his beautifully sculpted form.In the blink of an eye, he pulled something from his back, stretching it out toward her — sunscreen, SPF 20 — The packaging was nice and certainly looked more expensive than the old one, eyes widened slightly as he simply set the object down, resting it on the striped towel.

"I don't know which one you were using yesterday, you kind of threw it away" He shrugged before a faint smile crept onto his lips, brown eyes drifting toward the pool before returning to you "But i thought it was fair to give you another one, since i used it all" You both chuckled softly at the memory of the moment, and before you knew it, you had pulled your legs up, making room for him to sit.

Marlon obviously obeyed, his arms supporting himself behind his back as her head tilted towards him, drawing all his strength to keep her eyes from falling any lower — So they wouldn't stray from the strands of hair falling across her face, flushed from the sun in a way that made the tip of her nose glisten sweetly.

She was wearing a different lip gloss today, red and intense, just like the bikini that outlined the curve of her neck in that small strap that kept her breasts perfectly tucked behind the fabric that —Face, Marlon, face and eyes.Looking up almost immediately, the Jackson cleared his throat praying that his sunglasses had disguised the clear glance he'd just given her "I, um, hope this one works? I don't usually use it, so i have no idea what all those millions of spf types are"

She smiled dropping the object she was holding in her lap, searching for what he'd left beside her "It's the protection level, you know? The higher the better" And while she examined the packaging, the only thing the boy could notice was how beautiful her slender, long fingers were, in an almost elegant way, if that even made sense.

"You didn't need to, seriously, it was an accident" Her voice melted into a giggle, and god, he would do anything to keep her laughing like that, which made him dizzy inside "I hope you didn't have too much trouble cleaning up, though, that sunscreen is a pain to remove from anything"

And oh, what a job he had, and it was all certainly multiplied by the voices of his brothers laughing loudly, calling him every derivative of the word "white" that ever existed.

But shaking his head, Marlon replied "It was easy, i ust gave up trying and got under the shower" Giving her an unconscious wink, the boy let out a brief sigh "Sorry again about my brothers, they don't know how to behave when they see a pretty girl in front of them"

Well, they were indeed brothers, thanks for the information, Marlon.

And pretty?

Her face rested on her knees as her cheeks ached from the exaggerated stretching of lips at the compliment. Here she was, the same girl who had spent a week without going to school after asking for the reading club leader's number, being called pretty by this sin of a boy.

"Well, i didn't mind, actually i was happy to see that there are more people my age here" She raised her eyebrows at the adults huddled in the shadows, avoiding the sun like vampires "I thought i was trapped here with myself"

Observing the girl's action, the Jackson shifted his weight onto the arm that rested precariously close to hers, his eyes dancing for a few seconds on the pair of legs that glistened with a whitish hue from the poorly applied product "We were totally convinced that only middle-aged people stopped here!"

"It's easier for us, you know? Five siblings is basically the opposite of myself" Subtly shaking his head, he continued "You an only child? Sometimes i wonder what that must be like"

"It's strange sometimes, but other times it's worth it" And when she rested her cheek on his knees, gazing at him, Marlon had to restrain himself from simply leaning towards her and stealing a kiss from those lips that seemed to mold his name with each word, which made everything sound more and more like a melodrama "I like being alone so i don't mind much, but in moments like this it's kind of tedious"

He agreed, his tongue lubricating his own lips. "I'm one of the youngest, i think boredom is something i never felt"Melting into a giggle, the girl agreed "I can imagine that, a few seconds with you guys yesterday was enough to see how things must be" She stared at the product he had given her, remaining quiet for a few seconds before looking back at him.

Those glasses were cute, hearts staring at him with every word she said, but somehow, Marlon just wanted to see her eyes behind them again.

"Nah, don't even mention it" His fingers found the tip of his own nose, pinching it for a few seconds "Those idiots are still messin' with me, i can barely walk past Jermaine without hearing a giggle or a stupid joke"

Jermaine.

That name was familiar.

Could the cute, nameless guy be called Jermaine?

"It was kind of a funny accident" Her lips curled up, remembering yesterday's disastrous scene, which quickly melted into a giggle that she covered with her fingers "Sorry, but you were all shocked and red" She lowered her face, trying to contain herself.

Marlon parted his lips in offense, but couldn't manage anything more than an incredulous laugh "Even you? Seriously? I'm really losing all my composure here" And that certainly made her laugh louder, head tilting back in a relaxed way.

Anyone who saw them there would immediately think they were a young teenage couple. You, huddled up, hugging your legs to your chest, laughing freely while the tall, smiling boy sat at the foot of your chair in a relaxed way, staring at you as if, regardless of the sun, you were the brightest thing there.

And when Jackie and Tito passed through the main hall, their heads immediately turned, searching for the sound of their youngest brother's laughter, trying to understand the nature of the sound — and oh, how quick, quick, and dirty Marlon was. Jackie hadn't told his brothers about his little escapade with the girl, since that little kiss on the cheek had left him with one certainty — if he knew how to play his cards right, he'd have more of those.

But now, seeing how you and his brother talked so naturally like longtime friends, he felt foolish for keeping that little victory to himself.

"Damn, Marlon's learning fast" Tito sounded genuinely impressed as he crossed his arms "How can the kid who didn't even know how to tie his own shoes be outsmarting us?" He stared at his brother, a mixture of amusement and disbelief twisting his face.

The older Jackson shook his head, fidgeting with his car keys "He's too confident, you can be sure he can try but he doesn't have the knack yet, you know Marlon and Jermaine, two desperate guys"

Tito let out a weak chuckle.

"Desperate is one way to put it

"They both watched intently as the other Jackson stood up, followed by the girl a few seconds later. She was talking excitedly while pointing one of her fingers towards the pool — Marlon said something that made her laugh as she adjusted the strap of her red bikini.

The two boys audibly sighed as she entered the water, cautiously stepping as if testing the water temperature before wading in up to her waist, her arms tightening around her, making the curves of her breasts more pronounced. She avoided going too far into the water while the boy was diving in the deep end.

"Marlon! I spent the whole morning doing my hair!" the girl exclaimed, trying to defend herself from the drops he caused as he electrically thrashed against the icy water. Her body took a few seconds to process the change from the scorching sun to the freezing water, and even after a few shivers, leaving was no longer an option.When he had called her for a swim, this was the last thing on her mind.

Marlon was trying to retrieve a small ball she had pointed out at the bottom of the pool, causing several drops of water to wait every time he surfaced.

"Here!" he exclaimed victoriously, showing the small rubber object between his fingers, his hair dripping with water droplets that made his figure a big mess, oh, what a mess. His afro was now smaller and more tamed, and before you could defend yourself, he shook his head, trying to free himself from the weight of the water.

And that elicited a high-pitched squeal, "Marlon!" Which quickly melted into an incredulous laugh muffled by her fingers, which were trying at least to hide her face from the onslaught of water.

He looked like a golden retriever trying to escape all that water.

Laughing excitedly, he swam towards the girl, bringing her his little prize, which she accepted with a smile on her lips "You're crazy!" she echoed, giggling, squeezing the small ball in her hands "It was way down there, my god, you almost killed yourself for a little ball!"

Immediately shaking her head, he ran his fingers over his eyes, trying to remove the excess water from his eyelashes, which now stuck together in tiny spikes, almost like a doll's "It was nothing, this pool is almost too small for me, princess" And with that, he gave her a more than charming smile. To say that all the blood in her body rushed to her cheeks would be an exaggeration, but god, she was sure it must have been the color of a apple when her eyes darted away from his, searching the water around her as a way to hide her own shyness.

"Come on" his voice escaped a little softer and lower this time, his face tilting forward, searching for hers "Show me what you can do" And as a way to emphasize his words, he gave a small tap on the water, causing a certain amount to splash into her.And oh boy.

The Jackson wasn't prepared for the splash that — regardless of how weak — hit him in the chest after his words were spoken, and after a loud thud, he accepted the challenge, making sure to splash the water again, eliciting a "That's not in the rules!" from the girl who immediately began swimming in the opposite direction.

And with a wicked laugh, the younger one exclaimed:

"They are no rules!"

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

The afternoon had passed in the blink of an eye, and before they could truly finish that little war that had become nothing more than a chaotic throwing of the small colored ball, she and Marlon were the only people present in the pool area — besides the staff, and their panting giggles seemed enough to fill the entire space.

Now sitting on the edge of the pool, silence had settled in for the first time, in a natural and calm way that could almost be considered pleasant. It had been decided that whoever lost the game would buy the other an ice cream, but again, how could you win something that had no rules?She could swear she laughed for a whole minute when Marlon's eyes widened upon seeing that she had paid for the ice creams before muttering something about that being his role.

"Do you think the child who lost that ball is still here?" The girl's voice sounded after a few seconds, her feet, still submerged in the water, giving small kicks here and there, making it move in false waves "I didn't see any, much less in the pool"

"Child?" Marlon looked at her between bites "Old folk probably use that for yoga, you know? To stretch their bodies"And God, she swore that if she laughed one more time her cheeks would be permanently affected.

"Stop being like that" And with a little smile dancing on her lips, the girl looked back at the ice cream in her hands. The red part had already been completely consumed by her, and that white part? Ew, ew, and ew, she hated the taste it carried.It's true that everything was supposed to taste the same, but it was incredible how the only part without dye tasted like nothing but pure dye.

"You're different from what i thought" he said suddenly, drawing a pair of curious glances in his direction, but he didn't look at her "I thought you were going to be one of those annoying girls who are pretty and know it, and that strangely makes them a kind of snake" He shrugged.

"Are you saying i think i'm ugly or that i just don't know?" With a playful tone, she leaned subtly, nudging him with her shoulder. Rolling his eyes, the Jackson glanced at her out of the corner of his eye "Don't try your lucky, princess"

"Why do you keep calling me that?" And without realizing it, the two of them remained pressed together by the shoulders — Marlon's skin was warm, almost worryingly so, and if it weren't summer she would certainly have thought he had a fever — and in her other hand, the boy could feel a shiver run through his body in contact with hers, as cold as the pool water.

He looked up for a few seconds as if thinking, before taking a dramatic bite of his popsicle and shrugging "You looked like one the first time i saw you – all bows and those little heels, for a pool, seriously?" And she frowned.

"They're sandals"

"Independent"

And this time, he was the one who gently pressed his shoulder against hers, giving her a little push "But now i see you're no princess at all, you threw the ball in my face three times and still laughed, that's something a bad person would do" And a giggle bubbled from her chest at his tone.

"But there was a reason, don't play innocent! You kept wetting my hair and i had washed it, like, today"

"Babes, going into the water is washing your hair."

"Of course not, Marlon"

"Of course it is, princess"

And with a heavy sigh, she shook her head.

"There's a difference between wetting and washing, you know? Now we're full of chlorine and if we don't wash it, we'll be as dry as the old folk" Looking at him, she offered the popsicle to the boy who, without much ceremony, took a bite, including the white part.

And it was a matter of seconds before he grimaced.

"What nasty thing is that!?"And even with that expression of disgust shaping his face, Marlon couldn't help but gently lift the corners of his lips when she burst into a little laugh "It's awful, isn't it?" And smiling, she took a bite of the now reddened part "I don't know what they do, but the white part always tastes like death"

And he let out a betrayed gasp "And you gave it to me?" Jackson leaned against the pool to give the little splash in the water towards her.

"Traitor"

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

"Oh my god, seriously, he's so into you!!" Jam echoed excitedly through the phone, her loud voice making it obvious that her parents were out to dinner "Like, he makes a point of complimenting you all the time, making you laugh, oh my god!!"

A giggle played on her lips; the girl had made sure to recount the afternoon she spent with Marlon in her obligatory call with her best friend — quoting every single word that was spoken during those hours.

Marlon and she decided to go upstairs when the warm air was slowly turning into that icy whistling of California nights, and with that, they discovered they were only a floor apart. Five and Six, it almost seemed like a joke of fate that now, they both knew they were just a few doors away.

"Do you think they're all in the same room?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you hear what i was saying? I said their brothers probably already know this by now, that is, if they're in the same room"

This made her ponder for a few seconds; they probably should — even if the idea of five boys in a single hotel room sounded chaotic, it must certainly be the reality.

"I don't know, Marlon and inbarely talk about his brothers — in fact, i haven't even seen them"

A sigh.

"It's going to be complicated for you to kiss them all if they're telling each other what's going on"

"Jam! I'm not going to kiss anyone, much less all of them"

Jam practically snorted this time.

⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ 𝓟𝓾𝓻𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

I have absolutely nooo idea what i did here, but i wanted to post it anyway :P

"He did that to humiliate me, mhm sure of it" The young man's voice escaped muffled by her wavy hair. Prince hid his face in the crook of your neck, not caring if the words he so melancholically pronounced were actually heard "That song was ridiculous, a joke in my face"

It had all started when Quincy Jones decided to put an end to the "competition" that was happening between your boyfriend and the new star of the moment, Michael Jackson — you knew they didn't hate each other, not literally, but your beloved still carried a bitter memory of the day they actually met at the James Brown concert.

A song had been proposed to them, and Prince's role would be easy, just singing the chorus and participating in the main solo.

But he couldn't contain his disgust when he read those lyrics. No, it was ridiculous! Jackson was practically going to humiliate him, and he had to accept it quietly? Listen to all those childish insults and remain beautifully silent?

"I don't think it really was in that way" The girl's voice sounded soft in contrast to the harsh sound of the television playing a movie they had already forgotten — the focus of the moment was his body sprawled on top of her, his arms firmly wrapped around her waist, gripping the colorful fabric of her nightgown.

Prince wasn't, in every sense of the word, her boyfriend. The two of them were messing together, exchanging kisses more intense than what was considered casual, and nights like these, where one sought solace in the other's arms, were nothing new.

But the only certainty between them was that all of this didn't really have a name. He still saw other girls, you knew that, while your heart still faltered, trying to maintain a cold demeanor every time his melodious voice sought you out with his minimally calculated words.

You knew you deserved better. Knew he would never truly acknowledge this — but that was the thing — she was content as she was, and if being kept as a secret while she kept him as a promise meant being able to hold him in her lap like that for just one night, then so be it.

Letting out a sigh that sounded more like a disgusted laugh, the dark-haired man lifted his face, searching for her with those brown eyes tinged with green. His eyebrows furrowed and lips subtly pressed into a small pout, oh yeah, he was definitely offended. You didn't fully understand where this rivalry with Jackson had come from; when you met, Prince already treated it as a goal to be surpassed.

And trying to understand the fantastical mind of the man in your arms was nothing more than a distant thought — you couldn't engage with him. One moment love, the next hate, an exaggerated beauty that hid ugly and painful parts. Prince Roger Nelson was a mystery in the form of perfectly aligned curls and a soft voice, and for a few brief moments, your mystery.

"Are you going to start defending him, too?" he asked suddenly, causing your eyebrows to furrow this time at the ridiculous tone his voice carried "I'm being honest with you, and you're going to act like everyone else? As if he were innocent and didn't know exactly what he was doing?"

A weak laugh escaped her lips, fingers which had previously rested on his back, now drifting to the shoulders of the suspicious figure before her "You're being ridiculous" Her lips curled into a more than genuine smile as her right hand rose to brush away a strand of curl that fell from his forehead in front of his eyes.

"If i didn't know you better, i'd say you're jealous" Your dark blue painted nails traced the shape of his eyebrow with a soft touch that melted into a aimless caress beside his face "I just said i don't think he's an evil genius to the point of convincing Quincy to call you just to humiliate you in front of him?"

His eyes rolled, but he didn't flinch from her touch. The discomfort and stubbornness contorted his handsome face into a childlike and more than cute expression — you wanted to understand where that wound seemed to have suddenly become so throbbing, but teasing him about all this was certainly a little more fun.

Prince shook his head, letting his attention fall on your lap, observing from a distance the coin-shaped necklace that framed your beautiful neck. The soft light of the room did little to hide your beauty; your tanned skin shone in contrast to the flowered nightgown you wore. He liked that fabric, a dark wine shade adorned with beautiful lavender sprigs.

One thing he had to admit: looking at you was much easier than it should have been.

"You don't even know each other, there's no reason for me to be jealous" And releasing the air from his lungs in a long sigh, he let one of the hands that held your waist rise towards the small golden object that shone in front of him "And i don't doubt it, don't you remember when he made me go up on that stage in front of Brown? He's not innocent, much less stupid"

Another giggle escaped the girl's lips, a more genuine one, in that ridiculously high-pitched tone that made him want to cover his own ears.

And here we went again.

He was too cute to be taken seriously at that moment, eyes downcast as his fingers slowly and rhythmically twirled the St. Benedict medal against his fingers, his voice, always so confident and arrogant, reduced to a sulky murmur that was further evidenced by the way his lips tightened every time he finished speaking.

"Stop letting all this go to your head like that" Her words escaped in a gentler, more genuine way, her little caress on his face interrupted as a way to get his attention — his eyes immediately focused on you, trying to understand the reason for the pause "He may be Michael Jackson? He may, but you're Prince, you're still Prince, you're still that incredible artist that many people, including me, admire"

And hearing her words, he tried to remain sulky, oh how he tried. But the second her lips leaned in, seeking his temple in a soft kiss, the smile that spread across her lips was quicker than any thought of reprimand.

"You're just saying it for the sake of saying it" And his eyes closed, letting his only concern at that moment be the marks your lip gloss was leaving on his face "I bet you even listen to Thriller when i'm not here..."

A charming laugh escaped your lips against his skin, your kisses becoming quicker and louder as they scattered aimlessly across his cheeks, nose, and consequently stealing a few pecks from Prince's lips, something that, in a matter of seconds, trapped you both in a slow kiss.

The hands that had been circling your waist soon became more focused, his firm fingers pressing you against the sofa in a perfect touch. This was something about him that always unsettled you without you even realizing it, how confident and sure he was, unlike you, who thought of all possible alternatives before acting; the man acted and perhaps later dealt with the consequences.

Letting your head fall back, his position became a little more dominant, him rising above you to continue that silent dance of mouths, one hand trailing from your waist down, finding the bottom of your knee to anchor one of your legs to his waist.

Prince kissed the way he sang — he was extravagant, obscene enough to make your body heat up at the mere touch of his soft lips, the small mustache he let grow causing a gentle tickle against your skin, which was soon muffled by the hungry sensation of his tongue clamoring for yours.

His hips positioned themselves against yours, taking advantage of the ease that your new position now gave him. And before you realized it, a gasp escaped against his mouth at the sudden sensation of closeness in that area of your bodies. Your other leg immediately sought him out, making sure to keep his body pressed against yours.

One of her hands slipped to his back, gripping the crumpled fabric of his dress shirt. He'd shown up at her door hours ago, practically fuming, while she was making tea before bed, and well, it was more than obvious that regardless of his formal attire, a mug had already been set aside for him.

Continuing that familiar dance, Prince released her lips, smiling as he heard the small sound of complaint that escaped her, but which quickly melted into a low whimper when his mouth claimed her neck as a hiding place for the wet kisses that his parted lips pressed against it.

"There's going to be..." He gasped in a low tone, trying to manage his words with the urge to simply devour you alive at that very moment — He loved your skin, loved your scent, God forgive him, he might not love you, but he certainly couldn't bear the idea of another woman but you in his life "This party Quincy's throwing..."You wanted to ask if he had gotten over his anger at Jones, but the words had been lost long minutes ago.

Simply nodding, a smile spread across his lips when finally, god be merciful, his hips moved against yours in a slow, deep drag. The cold sensation in your stomach that he usually caused was multiplied infinitely when that intoxicating feeling left your legs feeling lighter.

"I want you—" Prince whispered, leaving a kiss against the vein that pulsed madly within your blood "There"

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

These parties were certainly her favorites.

You could dress up as if you were ready for the catwalk, puffy and colorful dresses, hair styled high and freely by the best hairdressers you'd ever known—and best of all? None of it came out of your pocket.

Your agreement was simple: Prince would arrive in a separate car, and your role was to be beautiful and wait for him. Simple, right? Especially since every night before such events he made sure a new pair of jewels was at the entrance of your apartment, without even considering the possibility of someone stealing them.

Her fingers twirled the ring that framed her index finger in a distant way; the small golden object curled in waves that mimicked an asymmetrical spiral. It was beautiful, delicate, yet extravagant. Despite this, her mind couldn't focus on anything around her: the forgotten wine glass in front of her with a faint mark of her lipstick, the music playing in the background with a melody muffled by her anxious thoughts.He hadn't arrived yet.

Obviously, Prince managed to be late even for the simplest things, and you assumed he'd be in front of the mirror by now, trying to tame those unruly curls that always seemed to predict the day of an important event to drive him crazy.

But no, this was strange. You'd seen him late one, god, even two hours, but you weren't sure how many times you'd checked the door to find an absurd variety of celebrities. But they didn't matter to you, not at all. The only star you wanted seemed lost in the constellation.

Letting out a heavy sigh, your shoulder rested on the table in front of you—the original owners had disappeared minutes ago, and everyone already seemed a little more drunk than alive. The smell of alcohol mixed with high-class fragrances in an intoxicating way in the air.

The appetizer platter was laid out in front of you with a lack of interest bordering on boredom. What could have happened? You wondered for the thousandth time, glancing at the door, hoping that suddenly, the object of your anxious thoughts would appear.

But nothing.

That was right, you definitely wouldn't stay there wondering about your man's whereabouts when he hadn't bothered to tell you or even show up. Your fingers gripped the small golden purse that held two simple items, your lipstick and your house key, determined to go back so you could dial the familiar numbers and tell him to go to hell.

She was always there for him no matter what, she accepted going to parties where she didn't know anyone simply to spend time with him, Jesus Christ, she had shaved every inch of her body and slathered herself in vanilla body lotion, and she hated vanilla! All because Prince liked it, always because he liked it.

And she was a complete idiot.

Heels clicking on the floor, fingers clenching the poor designer bag he'd given her for her birthday, celebrities muttering rude insults as her body swayed alongside his in their brisk walk. None of that mattered, and the lump forming in her throat was enough to make Michael Jackson's damned voice singing "The Lady in My Life" sound like a blatant mockery.

The second the cold street air touched her body, any defense the public had forced her to put up melted into a pathetic sob, her body quickly lowering to the ground so her fingers could cover her eyes, which in a matter of seconds were gushing aggressive, hot tears.

You did everything for him, everything! To be left standing there like an idiot waiting for him all night?

Her shoulders shook, accompanied by her exaggerated crying. She knew that practically lamenting at the door of one of New York's most glamorous events wasn't one of her best choices, but at that moment, the burning in her chest justified anything. You were so angry, it just seemed like a cruel joke from him — and unlike other times, all the anxiety of finally seeing him was reverting to an ugly, bitter feeling, the rush that the mental image of him always brought you melting into a bubbling hurt.

You were sure that if Prince appeared in front of you this second, you would simply kick the hell out of him.Your little scene was, however, interrupted by a hand that appeared as suddenly on your shoulder as the startled sound that echoed from your throat.

Your body rose in a matter of seconds, trying to cover your mouth with trembling fingers, and for a few brief, millimetric seconds, you dared to think that maybe it was him.

But the image before you? A white suit like the album cover, curly strands falling over a face that carried an expression as lost as that of a child searching for their parents in the market...It definitely wasn't him. And Michael Joseph Jackson carried a glint of concern in his brown eyes that Prince's clear orbs never directed at you.He was simply frozen in front of you, as if cursing the idea of even having stirred up the mountain of emotions you were experiencing at that moment, but something in his hand caught your attention, your blurry eyes.

Your bag.

"I found it..." He began after a few seconds, and his voice caught your attention almost immediately. It was deeper than you had heard in the sounds, yes, but there was something so melodic about it that he simply seemed to be humming to you "On the floor, i thought it was yours, i, i didn't mean to disturb...I just"Jackson let out a loud sigh against the air, his chest remaining inflated and his lips slightly parted as if his lungs were trying to leap from his lips, and that's when a "What happened?" escaped him almost forcefully, the obviously choked tone demonstrating the effort it took.

And how he regretted that question.

Especially when the pretty girl in front of him suddenly broke down in tears again, so suddenly that it took him two seconds to even process what was really happening — mask staining her rosy cheeks, tears streaming down her chin and dripping somewhere he didn't bother to look for, and well...

"I do everything for him!" She sounded almost like Latoya when Marlon snatched one of her teddy bears to force her to chase him around the house, which obviously resulted in the girl whimpering to their mother seconds later "Everything, i did my hair, i put on this dress that's been squeezing my ribs all afternoon and he didn't even see it!" Her fingers brushed her chin, a soft fuzz accompanying the crack that formed in Jackson's heart at seeing something as beautiful as her melting in sadness in front of someone she didn't even know.

Him, who was the brainless idiot who had the nerve to leave her in that state? His eyebrows furrowed at the thought that it took a surprising amount of cowardice to be such a jerk.

Michael didn't know exactly what to do at that moment. Every time he'd seen a girl cry, it was from emotion — especially when seeing him and his brothers — but sadness? That ugly feeling had the honor of simply touching her heart. Thinking for a few seconds, his hands rose hesitantly, searching for the trembling figure before him.He didn't know what she wanted at that moment, but he knew that when he found himself in the same situation, alone in the confines of his room, he prayed to God to send someone just to be by his side, for a simple hug.

And that's what he did, cautiously wrapping his arms loosely around her shoulders, giving the girl every opportunity to move away or simply escape his touch if she wanted, before gently approaching — She was practically his height, that's what he assumed when he saw the slight difference in height that made her a little taller, due to the heels she was wearing. She smelled so good, it was almost a crime how much that intoxicating vanilla scent emanated from her; she was almost like a sweet roll fresh from the oven, fragrant and warm.

Her head lowered, seeking support on his shoulder, and Michael felt himself physically melt, both from the relief of not having been abruptly pushed away and from the strange sensation her presence caused in his body. His hands were sweaty, and his heart? Well, he prayed that, because of their proximity, she couldn't hear the bullet train that seemed to want to leap from his throat.

Her arms were curled up against herself, as if the weight on her chest was so dense that she needed to carry the shards there with her own fingers.

"And it's always like this... He doesn't even say anything to me, and then when i realize it, we're together again, and i don't know what to do" she lamented again, this time her voice briefly muffled by his suit "I could be loved! I could, but he, he doesn't even want to try, and now i've ruined my makeup!"

This elicited a weak laugh from Jackson, who was silently wondering what had led him to that moment — a tearful girl pouring her heart out in his arms without him even knowing her name. All this because he had decided to flee the party to avoid the humiliation of having to listen to himself practically lamenting to the song Quincy Jones considered his favorite.

When he saw the small bag dropped on the floor, he thought its owner was smoking or simply lost in her own world, just like him, but when he approached and saw those tears? God, those little cries that looked more like kicks to his stomach?

Michael had a weakness for pretty girls, and seeing them cry was certainly unacceptable.

"I think the simple fact that you're crying like this already shows that he doesn't even deserve your love" his voice sounded after a few seconds, his fingers slowly molding the girl's nape over her soft hair, guiding her towards him so he could observe her.

Something strange stirred within him when he saw her like that.

Her face carried a vulnerability that made him want to keep her there, safe in his arms — far from anyone who dared to leave her in that situation. And her eyes? Bright with tears that streamed down her cheeks, leaving a subtle mark on her makeup, which, strangely, seemed even more beautiful now that it showed a hint of the small freckles that dotted her cheekbones.

The only thing intact there was the lipstick she wore, bright and pink, perfectly outlining her thin lips, which carried a slight tremor. He wanted to stretch out his thumb and stop it himself, but he knew that was simply an absurd thought on his part.

"Come on, who's the idiot who wouldn't want a girl like you by his side?"

And you understood in that second why Prince felt so affected by Michael — he had something he rarely knew how to show.

True.

For the first time in those minutes they'd known each other, he saw the girl show something other than a completely negative emotion, and even though the small smile that appeared on her lips seemed more like a thin line, it was enough for his teeth to greet her cheerfully.

"See?" Michael sounded more cheerful, feeling that at least his awkward presence had served some purpose. "You look much better like this"

And that made you melt into a weak little smile, shaking your head at the idea of how absurd that moment really was — which made a little laugh that sounded more like a sob resonate from your throat.

For the first time that night, your head was spinning on something other than Prince.

And Michael's words made perfect sense when you thought about them outside of your little trance of anger and confusion. If he really liked you, no — if he loved you too, he would never have put you in this situation.

"I never thought i would be comforted by, of all people, Michael Jackson" Her words escaped with a tone of grace, even though her voice was still a little hoarse "I feel like i'm in a feverish sleep" And the laugh the young man gave you was one of the things that simply made all those hours of waiting worthwhile.

The Jackson laughed with all his heart, not the polished laugh you gave when someone complimented you, but a genuine laugh.

"Michael Jackson is a person too, if that helps the idea" he continued, a small smile dancing on his lips, his shoulders hunched at the thought of you two simply holding each other now — without the melodramatic comfort part — and only your hands resting on his jacket and his arms wrapped around your neck.

A little too aware of this closeness, he let his own arms fall; not letting go completely, but keeping you respectfully close.

When his lips parted to continue the little joke between you, a sound interrupted her, a pair of heels that brought to mind the idea of some wife or singer catching you in the act in Jackson's arms after your little outburst.

But when your eyes unconsciously searched for the source of the noise, your heart simply stopped.

Prince, in all his glory with perfectly styled curly hair and purple coat, stood in front of the nightclub, pale as a ghost. You didn't know when his car had stopped there, much less how long he'd been there, but from the look on his face, you knew that no explanation was even possible.

Nelson was a bundle of nerves this afternoon, and when he had decided to make the night perfect, everything decided to rebel against him — a meeting with the record label director, the suit he had chosen especially to match you had ripped on the way to the dry cleaners, the driver's daughter woke up with a fever, the florist had sold all the roses, forcing him to put together a bouquet of lilies, and the jewelry store? Don't even mention that cow who decided to swap the sapphire he had handpicked for an amethyst.

It was ironic how, seeing you there, staring at you with a bouquet in your hands and wide eyes, he thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world and, at the same time, the biggest traitor he had ever imagined meeting. Seeing you in Michael's arms was such a violent feeling that he had to remain still for a few seconds, suppressing the urge to vomit. His body shuddered as if the heat of anxiety that had previously surrounded him had been killed by a cruel blow to his stomach.

The flowers tightened in his trembling hands.

"Prince," she called, letting go of the boy in front of her almost immediately, but keeping a hand on his arm — as if she needed his support, as if he were providing her with security at that moment, and ironically, as if he were the threat.

"So that's how it is?" His voice escaped trembling, and he knew he was a breath away from crying. His stomach was burning in a way that made it almost impossible to resist the urge to open his mouth and scream all those feelings out "I spend the whole day planning the perfect day for you, for us, for me to arrive here and you're in his arms!?"

And him? Well, Michael was simply dumbfounded, staring at the scene that unfolded in a matter of seconds before him. The girl who had been smiling now seemed about to fall apart again, and her hand gripping his jacket was almost white from the force she was using. He didn't pay attention to Prince, not really. He knew how much he liked to cause a scene, and Quincy had made it very clear to Jackson that he should avoid as much contact as possible with someone so childish.

And oh, that word, childish, was what made the little switch in his brain turn — So that idiot Prince was the same idiot who had made the pretty girl cry? It wasn't surprising, honestly, he was more surprised that the other guy had the attention of such a beauty only to reject her.He respected him as an artist and as a person, but now, as a man? It was complicated.

"It's not what you're thinking, and that's not what happened!" She took a step toward him, a slightly awkward one, but it made Jackson's fingers point upwards as if expecting her to return "I thought you'd left me here, you disappeared for hours without saying anything, what did you want me to think?" Hmm, now the pieces were falling into place in Michael's brain.

"Oh yeah, and the first thing you do when i disappear is look for another man to make you comfortable? Incredible, really incredible" Jackson had never heard that tone from him, not even when he refused to record 'Bad' when Quincy himself asked him, and that demonstrated the weight of the moment.

"And all that talk of wanting something with me, huh? Liking me? Is that what you tell everyone? Are you in love with Michael too?"

And with his name being mentioned in the conversation, he almost immediately adjusted his posture, subtly widening his eyes "You should stop talking like that, there's absolutely no need to shout when we're in a public place"

And oh boy.

"You don't talk to me." He shook his head in his direction, approaching with heavier steps than necessary "You don't, you don't know anything, and you certainly don't have the right to give your opinion in a personal conversation"

"Prince..." She sounded a little lower.

"And you're going to defend him now? Is that it?" He gasped in surprise, the bouquet lowered in one of his hands, which he squeezed tightly around the beautifully adorned paper, leaving the flowers crumpled and piled up "I thought you were on my side"

And god, how it hurt to hear that — and it hurt even more to be aware of how much attention that little scandal was causing when a small flash sounded, white and sharp enough to catch the exact moment Michael stared at the shorter man with raised eyebrows, the girl torn between the two, and Prinde foaming at the eyes with tears.

"Prince x Michael — From rivalry to the same girl"

You were sure your body didn't contain a single drop of water when you read, for the hundredth time that day, yet another sensationalist cover featuring your face and the boys' faces, your arms crossed under oversized sweatshirts, clearly showing your defensive pose. That night had been exactly three days ago, when the paparazzi started appearing from all sides, taking pictures of every little movement there.

Everything became a chaotic white blur—Michael tried to pull you to his side, but Prince was faster, grabbing your waist and leading you towards his car.

The ride was embarrassing; the limousine, which had previously been the target of your jokes for being too big, seemed to have multiplied in size, and when you heard his first sniff, all you wanted to do was simply open that door and jump out.

Prince's driver dropped you off in front of your apartment with a familiar certainty, and you didn't have the courage to say goodbye to him. No, you simply lowered your head and murmured a small thank you before running home, taking advantage of the emptiness of your elevator to start crying again.

You had absolutely no idea what to do now, leaving your job afraid of being recognized — you'd already grabbed a pair of sunglasses you'd had since adolescence, the small Hello Kitty-shaped lenses serving as a distraction for anyone who dared to look at you familiarly.

You wanted to call him, you wanted to apologize, God, you wanted to show up in front of that mansion and simply beg for forgiveness. But at the same time, a small, selfish part of you whispered, deep down, Michael's words every time you dared to pick up your phone.

"I think the simple fact that you're crying like this already shows that he doesn't even deserve your love."

And you simply wanted to hit him for giving you such a simple and clear shock of reality that ran through your body every time the image of a tearful Prince crossed your thoughts. It was torturous not having any sign of him, but it gave you the certainty that if you didn't go after him, apparently he wouldn't either.

The walk to your apartment was blurry and quick, the street seemed uninteresting when the only thing you really wanted was simply a hot shower and a cup of coffee with milk. The apartment was empty, cold, and a grimace crossed his face every time his bag was left on the coat rack next to the denim jacket he had forgotten there. Her house was haunted by him, completely.

From the cat-shaped teacups he bought when you went to the city's thrift store and the leopard-print rug you screamed at when you received it as a gift, to the simplest things, like the picture of London streets that he always laughed at because he found them "boring," or the little whale-shaped teddy bear you left on the sofa that he loved to use as an elbow rest, almost killing your baby.

Her house was like a cemetery of his presence.With a heavy sigh, her steps led her to the kitchen as her fingers abandoned her glasses on top of the refrigerator, which was soon opened, revealing the impeccably arranged food he had put together in a fit of perfectionism.

"Stop thinking about him, idiot" she repeated to herself, stretching her fingers to reach a forgotten can of Coke, flat but cold enough that she didn't mind. The kitchen phone ringing was such an absurd surprise that you almost threw the can up in the air, letting out a loud curse as it slammed against the counter, making your chest churn with anger.

That idiot had been driving you crazy for days and now he'd spilled your Coke? Your fingers gripped the phone almost immediately.

"I think it's incredibly cheeky of you to just call me at this hour!"

Silence.

"I called earlier, but you didn't answer so i thought you were busy...Did i interrupt you?"

And oh, Michael.

If you had a coin for every time he ended up being the target of rude words in your troubled relationship, you'd have two coins; which wasn't much, but it was certainly surprising.His shoulders slumped almost instantly, fingers covering his eyes for a few seconds before he forcefully brushed his nose as punishment for his actions.

"I, I thought... I'm sorry, i thought i was talking to someone else, you weren't...I was working, and gosh, sorry Michael"

He let out a weak chuckle on the other end, more timid than the last time you'd heard it.

"You thought it was him? From the tone of your voice, i almost felt guilty from here"

Now you laughed, a little less nervous "Yeah, i thought so, he's the only person who calls me — used to call, my friends just show up here and you know...I mean, how did you get my number?"

Michael audibly swallowed hard on the other end of the line, and it took you a few seconds to continue.

"I asked Quincy, you know, apparently he has the number of everyone close to the artists in case something happens and well...Prince left his number here"

"Oh, great to know"

"But if you find it strange, i can pretend i never saw anything? I just wanted to know how you were doing, that day I tried to keep you away but well, i thought it was better for you to go with whoever actually brought you to the place"

The jackson was rambling so much that he stopped talking; you hadn't even registered his question, and with a brief "Ah" your voice came out in a more relaxed tone, your body leaning against the wall beside you as your eyes fell on the liquid that was running down the floor.

"It's okay, with the situation, i mean, me going out with you would have been a bigger scandal, and neither of you deserves that" A pause, and a little more choked up, you continued "I'm...I can't lie, feeling like the worst person in the world, you know? I didn't mean to imply what he understood, i was crying, and you were nice to me — it's not like i coldly planned to go after his rival"A giggle escaped from the other end of the line.

"Rival?"

"Michael!" Your voice echoed, but without real resentment. "I'm opening my heart, and you only focused on that part?" Even if you tried to sound angry, a little smile played on your lips.

"I heard everything, i just found this part funny, i must be such a villain on this side of the story, hm?"

And before you knew it, you and Michael Jackson were chatting about the stories you'd heard from Prince about him, which led the young man to want to pinpoint how everything sounded to him and then tell his side of the story, which comically seemed more like a teasing match between two elementary school children than the battle of giants Prince made it seem.

The conversation with Jackson was simple, lively enough that your giggles echoed louder and more scandalous than they really should have, but it was genuinely relieving to have someone to talk to who wasn't bombarding you with questions about who was more handsome, smelled better, and God knows what slap you gave Jacob when he dared to ask you which of the two was better in bed.

"Once, my brothers were dating the same girl, and they only found out when Jermaine brought her home and Jackie yelled her name so loud that Mom choked on her juice"

A surprised gasp escaped the girl, making him laugh.

"She left mortified, but the two of them made a big competition out of it all, you know?"

"Wow, your brothers seem like idiots" you said, frowning "With all due respect, but my god"

Michael sighed "They have their flaws, but they're my brothers, and i love them, i think the one who really stands out is Marlon; he's a clown, but at least he knows how to have a conversation that doesn't involve girls and the gym."

And talking to him, you felt almost melancholic — no, sad, genuinely sad. Michael had such a pure heart and spoke so fondly of life; he wasn't like you, and every joke you made about killing yourself ended in a long sermon from him about how you shouldn't joke about something as beautiful as life.

And seeing someone so good so...alone, caused you a feeling of injustice that you only felt for the little ones in movies.

"The future of the Jackson family is in your hands and Marlon's, so please stop your siblings from reproducing" You both laughed, and when your eyes fell on the clock in front of your wall, you widened them.

Eight o'clock at night.

You and Michael had spent three straight hours talking.

You didn't say anything, not really wanting to end the conversation, but to say you weren't surprised was an understatement. And what struck you most was, three hours without thinking about him after three days straight of not being able to breathe without remembering the anxious rhythm with which air rushed into his lungs.

"Michael" you called him in a softer tone, remaining quiet for a few seconds, focusing on the static and shallow breathing of his breath.

"Huh? I'm listening"

"Thank you for being here for me"

Michael was quiet, and if you were completely crazy you could swear you heard a muffled sound, as if a weight had been moved from side to side — He was...Jumping on the bed? On the floor? Regardless of the place, he was, yes, obviously jumping.

"That's what friends do, right?" He sounded after a few seconds, a smile almost audible in his voice. Friends, that word had come so naturally to you, as had your relationship, that you hadn't even thought to question it.

"Yeah, i think you're right"

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

Calls with Michael had become frequent.Sometimes you had talked so much the night before that you would simply call each other to do mundane things with the phone dangerously stretched out — washing dishes while he hummed in your ear, him writing silently while you watched television, and your favorite? Trying to talk to Bubbles while he tried to devour the phone.

The Jackson was an animal lover, something you were absolutely delighted about when you learned he had a peacock! And well, you obviously made him promise to take you to see it.

Two weeks had passed and Prince had simply disappeared. No calls, no media appearances, and that was enough for the headline of the moment, which had reduced you to a prize to be fought over between them, to simply die — something you were infinitely grateful for, finally being able to walk in peace.

You missed him, of course you did, but whenever your fingers itched with longing for his curls or your eyes wouldn't close without his affection, Michael was there.

And even though the idea of using him as a distraction sounded simply awful to you, the comfort of a friendship was all you needed now.

Today was your day off, and after days of planning, you and Michael were finally going to meet. After you jokingly said you doubted you were really talking to him or just a good imitator, he insisted his driver come to your door to take you to his house in Encino.

The gates, the gigantic and well-maintained garden, the empty and almost endless corridors with classic and polished decorations made you understand, in a way, his loneliness. The house was beautiful and smelled good—but the human presence was nonexistent there.

Michael's room, however, had made your eyes sparkle. It was almost like a small Disney version hidden between wooden walls and a well-arranged bed. He had so many toys that the ten-year-old you would have killed for, not to mention the sweet smell that reminded you of cotton candy that filled the air.

His little hideaway was enchanting.

You were sitting on the floor talking about a board game he bought for you to try out, but which seemed utterly unsuitable for the human mind. The pieces were spread out in front of you while Jackson read the comically large instruction manual. The television was playing some random music video, probably forgotten by you all.

"But what's the point of having parts for apartments and not for houses?" The girl held up one of the small plastic objects in front of her eyes before looking at the boy, who shared the same incredulity.

"Maybe it's a reflection of capitalism" Michael replied, shrugging, making her laugh "Seriously, apartments are easier and more adaptable for mass production, and since the game is about us being bankers..."

"I wrote this song for someone who was here with me before"

Jackson frowned when he saw her smile spread almost immediately as the small piece slipped from her fingers, her eyes leaving his field of vision as they both turned to the television.

"She's not here anymore, but i know she'll hear this song and know it's for her, she always knew it was for her" Prince stared at them melancholically, curls falling dramatically over his face as the guitar practically whimpered along with the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes before the music actually began.

Michael looked at you and then at the television, and then back at you and at the television.

He wanted to throw that object out the window, he wanted the boy ripped from the stage just like he'd been from his life —.it wasn't fair, especially now that you two had become friends, real friends! Was he going to emerge from the well he was in and throw you in there?

"Let me get the remote" His voice escaped trembling, but before he could even stretch, she shook her head, simply raising her own hand as he did when Bubbles was too excited.

And hell, Michael regretted listening the second Prince's voice sounded like a whisper over the low volume of the television.

"I never meant to cause you any sorrow..."

The way she trembled at hearing him was visible, her shoulders pressed against her own body and her fingers gripping the carpet beneath her as if she could be swallowed by the fabric — She was scared, no, she was simply terrified like a child who had just woken from a nightmare.

"I never meant to cause any pain..."

Maybe this was divine punishment.

Maybe the Jackson was so focused on finally having a real friendship in his life that God blessed Prince with a melody so deeply melancholic and sentimental that now, it was violently rubbed in his face how careless he was being.

"I only wanted one time to see you laughing"

"I only wanted to see you laughing in the purple rain"

You only realized you were crying when you felt the small tear that dripped from your chin, warm and followed by others that freely dared to drag the rosy blush that painted your cheeks. Seeing him after so long was a strange feeling, somehow relieving to see that he was alive but painful enough that the air remained trapped in your lungs.

And seeing him there brought you the certainty that you only believed you had gotten over him because you hadn't seen those bright eyes in so long, but now? Those two weeks seemed to have been thrown out the window every time he looked at your face.

"I never wanted to be your weekend lover"

And it was those words that hit you with disgust — You had said that phrase to him, three months after you started seeing each other, in your living room while you helped him fix his hair after the first night you spent together.

And now he was, he dared, act as if he was the one who was hurt in the story? As if all this time, he was the one who had begged for something more? For a simple title.

"I only wanted to be some kind of friend"

Michael wasn't at all interested in the beautiful melody playing almost angelically in front of him — his large eyes could only focus on the girl in front of him, his friend, his... He sighed heavily, taking the initiative to move and embrace her.

Even though they hadn't seen each other in person since their last meeting, this act seemed simpler, more permissible, and he knew he had done the right thing when her arms moved towards his waist, gripping him as if he were a life jacket in the open sea.

She didn't continue crying; no, in fact, Jackson's warm body was a reminder that she existed beyond Prince, and she couldn't give him exactly what that sound seemed to be chasing.

"Baby, i could never steal you from another"

Her eyes closed and she hugged him tightly, the scent of his cologne intoxicating her senses enough that the soft strumming of the guitar became a distant memory.

⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ 𝔽𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕪𝕒...𝜗𝜚˚⋆

California, 1973

Summer vacation had come faster than she could have imagined.

One moment she was at home studying stacks of math books, and now she was staring at the hotel across from her with bright eyes and a big smile — Mom and Dad were celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary, and it all coincided with summer vacation, resulting in an extravagant trip to California.

And the best part? They would definitely let her get lost in their celebration.

Her quick steps down the hallway soon led her to her room — that's right — her room! Regardless of the "ew" that escaped her when her parents said they would have a separate room, this was definitely the best thing she could have wished for. The room was spacious, and the beautifully made bed soon enveloped her body.

She would finally be able to wear all those cute little bikinis that had been in her drawer for decades! And on top of that, she'd get a perfect tan for her best friend Jen's birthday party, which was happening the week she got home.

The sun outside was shining in a way that made her glasses reflect the light a little. She wanted to wear contact, but Mom said they were too big for her age. She was already seventeen! And yet her parents still treated her like a little girl, even though at her age, Dad was already working at the his father's factory.

Getting out of bed, her steps led her towards one of her suitcases, the perfect one for that moment! Maybe you had overdone it bringing her pearly blue suitcase full of bikinis and swimsuits? Maybe, but she was in an expensive hotel, and God let a girl have some fun.

When her fingers reached that cream-colored pair with chocolate details, her eyes automatically lit up; it was perfect! Ribbons everywhere her eyes fell, the little skirt that would definitely accentuate her hips, which had finally become more rounded — that was it, it would be her debut that afternoon!

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

The sun was shining and the Jacksons were finally having their first break in what seemed like months.

Last night's show had definitely been a drag; Jermaine lost his jacket and decided that would be everyone's problem — which turned out to be true when Joseph noticed the boys were late and, on top of everything else, had left the dressing room upside down. The angry shouts and shrugging definitely made Jer forget about any problems, though.

Marlon and Michael were the ones who planted the idea of going to enjoy the hotel's club. It was a Thursday and the holidays had barely begun, which meant the place was practically empty, except for the older couples who were secluded in the sun loungers and at the bar.

Jackie and Tito were the first to jump into the pool, reaching for the brightly colored inflatable ball so they could start their version of water soccer — which resulted in Marlon jumping into the water seconds later to show them how to really play it, instead of just throwing it and desperately chasing after the ball.

Michael was the only one keeping a considerable distance from the pool. He had barely taken off that ridiculous t-shirt he'd bought in Hawaii with the image of a palm tree doing the "hang loose" sign and was under one of the umbrellas. His vitiligo was already spreading from his elbows and fingers to his arms, and he'd read in a magazine that the sun made it worse, so all the brothers made a silent agreement to simply leave him where he wanted to be.

Jermaine sat on the edge of the pool, watching with a laugh as his younger brother did his best against Tito and Jackie, who mercilessly pushed the ball in his direction. If Randy hadn't been sick at home, he would definitely have been on his brother's back trying to defend him with all his unsettling glory.

And he was the first to see her — and god damn, how he saw her — that beautiful pair of legs walking briskly toward the area in a pair of white clogs that gleamed in the sun. He spent most of his time watching the curve of her thighs as she stepped on the ground until he noticed the little skirt she was wearing. That bikini was kind of childish, the kind he saw his sisters buy, but on her?

Lord, that ruffle outlining her beautifully shaped hips and the brown lace contrasting with her pale skin, she definitely needed some sun, but that didn't matter when the only thing on his mind was that bow that held the garment firmly to her body.

Marlon was the next to notice, and he barely cared when the ball hit him in the chest — his mind melted into two words, bow and boobs. To be more precise, her sailor-style outfit clung to her intoxicatingly, and the bow adorning the center of her chest did nothing but make the outfit even more alluring.

"Hey man, what's wrong? Did water get in yo head?" Tito asked with a laugh before noticing that his two younger brothers were staring at something, or rather, someone, and a "God be good" escaped him when the sight finally blessed him too.Seeing her in that old-fashioned hotel was like seeing a glass of water in the middle of the desert.

Wavy strands of hair gleaming in the sun, brown and gold like a damn chocolate bar, full lips shining with a bright pink gloss full of glitter — oh, she knew exactly who she was, and when she sat in the sun lounger next to Michael, the Jacksons immediately knew the timer had been started.

"I saw her first" Jermaine was the first to speak, his legs dragging out of the pool as his brothers scrambled into the water — each searching for their respective edge.

"Damn it, he always says that!" Marlon cursed as he tried to pull himself out of the pool, fingers sliding on the white marble, eliciting a laugh from the two older ones "Give me a hand, Tito!" And god, how he wanted to strangle the older one when the only response he got was a 'my bad, bro'.

Michael was busy staring at the sky from where he was, trying to truly understand what was happening. Lately, words simply appeared in his head without any explanation, not in a way he knew exactly what to write — it was like a hint, a whisper so low that if he wasn't paying close enough attention, it would slip through his fingers.

Keep on...Don't stop — How could that become a sound? Don't stop, but don't stop until what?Jermaine's presence blocking the sun in front of him pulled him from his reverie.

He smiled in that strange way that made him look smug.

"Yo Mike, too busy hiding from the sun, huh? Why don't you come take a dip with us?" And that made him furrow his brow; he'd spent the whole morning telling his brothers that the lotion he was using shouldn't be washed off in less than twenty-four hours, especially not by the pool water, and...

Ah.

When he saw his older brother's eyes drifting to the side, he understood.

The Jackson's brain took seconds to process the new presence beside him, and he wondered how on earth she'd gotten there without him even noticing. It was a girl, of course; the only thing in this world that made his brother smile like that was girls, and this one? She was quite pretty.

She didn't notice the Jacksons' intrusion, but Mike obviously did.

Tito and Marlon leaned against the chair he was sitting in, watching the other girl a few feet away, Jermaine and Jackie exchanging glances as they sat near his feet.

They would definitely start that ridiculous thing they always did when they saw a girl "Good weather for fishing" Marlon whistled, lowering his eyes momentarily, eliciting a smug laugh from his brothers.

The poor girl had barely noticed.She was too busy trying to get rid of the seal on her sunscreen, which was winning the battle against her long, square nails, painted a pretty bluish shade — they looked like little marshmallows stuck to her hand, long and beautiful fingers.Jermaine was the first to go towards her.

Walking charmingly as if swaying his hips, he stopped in front of her, earning a pair of curious eyes the second the shadow appeared in front of her face. You were grateful you were chewing gum, otherwise an audible "wow" would have escaped you.

Strong arms, a handsome smile, and a nose that, oh my god, made you feel a little softer inside.He reached out to the girl, who took two good seconds to stare at him dumbly before understanding what his fingers were hinting at "It's really stuck" her voice escaped a little weaker as the wrapper was placed in his hand.

"Good thing i'm good at opening things" He said, and wow, smooth, except for the fact that even squeezing the wrapper — nothing came off the little silver seal, and the smile on his lips became a little bothered when he had to lower his eyes to observe the situation in his hands.

Then Marlon appeared like a ghost.

"Already bothering the girl, man? Come on, peace for the lady" And turning to her, he smiled, stretching his fingers "Marlon, i hope my brother isn't bothering you, princess" And he felt victorious the moment she gave him a bright smile, her fingers automatically fitting over his.She was hot, in both ways.

"He's not" And what a voice! The Jackson visibly let out a heavier breath when that husky tone reached his ears. He was used to quiet girls, soft and shy voices in that thin tone, that hearing that deeper tone, with the sound of someone who had just woken up, definitely made him fussy.

"I think i had bad luck at the store, with that one" She indicated with her head the package that Jermaine was silently struggling with.

"Get out of here, Jermaine, you can't even open a sunscreen, huh?" He snatched the object from his brother's hands, who gave him a murderous look, which he definitely ignored in favor of the pretty girl watching them "He's a little old for this, y'know? His muscles are starting to give way"

And before Jermaine could open his mouth to refute — or rather, warn — Marlon had already squeezed the tube.

And what a mess! The three Jacksons, who had only been watching from a distance, widened their eyes when the youngest was suddenly hit with a squirt of sunscreen directly in the face. The blob of leaked product broke the silence that everyone had maintained, just observing the scene.

Marlon Jackson with his face white with sunscreen dripping from his cheeks, the pretty girl with her eyes wide with surprise, and suddenly Jermaine let out the most scandalous laugh of all. And that made everyone laugh, perhaps at his scandalous tone, perhaps at the moment, perhaps at the boy bathed in sunscreen.Her fingers covered her lips, trying to disguise the giggle that bubbled in her chest.

The trio of siblings weren't far away, and for a few seconds, their laughter was the only sound in the hotel pool.

Feeling a little sorry for the boy, you ripped the towel off the chair you were resting on, standing up in a quick movement, an "It's okay" escaping your lips in a low enough tone to ensure you didn't burst out laughing in his face.

The boy was red as a tomato and paralyzed like a statue, simply staring at the mess on his fingers as if in the blink of an eye everything would disappear. When he made eye contact with the girl in front of him, he finally snapped back to reality when he realized how tall she was.Normally, girls had to look up to talk to him — but you? — were face to face with him, so casually that the boy shrugged his shoulders without realizing it.

Your fingers released the towel from his hand so you could pick up the crumpled container of your sunscreen, and without many words, you headed towards the bar where you remembered seeing a trash can while walking to the pool.

"Damn it, Marlon, i knew you liked to dig in the snow, but sunscreen? That's a new one" Tito's voice echoed, and suddenly, he was the reason for his brothers' gigles again.

The tips of your toes pressed against the small trash can to painfully deposit the new container of your sunscreen, which had cost fifteen dollars. You could try to use what was left, but besides being expensive, that container was ridiculously small, so all of your product was now on the face of the boy named Marlon.

He was cute, very clumsy, but cute.

His brother, however, the boy whose name he hadn't told you, had left you with a nagging feeling — he was far too handsome for your liking, and that smile indicated he knew exactly what he could achieve with a face and body like that — But well, it was summer, right? And you wouldn't be in California until the next vacation, so.

Your head turned, searching for the boys, seeing that now they were in a small group that made you wonder if they were all brothers, since they were all tall, had the same nose, and were all ridiculously hot. Jen would die if she were here, genuinely die; you knew that simply describing those arms to her would make her regret staying for cheerleading practice.

You counted five of them, all close to a boy who was sitting in the deck chair chuckling at what you judged to have been the little accident from before. He was the only one fully dressed, covering his lips with his fingers; his hands were large, and you wondered if he would be equally tall standing up.

Releasing the air from your lungs, you let out a heavy sigh, turning around again. Since you wouldn't be able to sunbathe without burning like a shrimp, at least you could enjoy a drink, and maybe have a little alcohol without Mom noticing.

Approaching the bar, your feet touched the slightly damp wooden floor, letting you know your heels were left behind, but you weren't too worried. Your fingers adjusted your glasses while your eyes searched for something interesting on the menu.

The barista was an old man with the expression of someone tired of living, and he didn't even look at you while preparing your alcoholic piña colada. A small smile of accomplishment appeared on your lips the second the colorful straw touched them, the little umbrella poking your cheek as you savored the sweet taste that invaded your palate.

"You don't look twenty-one to me" A voice caught her attention, sweet and deep, like a cup of coffee on a cold morning, and the image before her would certainly warm anyone. One of the boys, the tallest of them all, stared at her with a serious but confident expression.

His afro was wet, causing a few drops to drip onto his muscular shoulders; his skin, blessed with melanin, practically glowed against the sun's rays and she wanted to run her fingers over it to see if his skin was as soft as it looked.

Noticing what he was saying, the girl's eyes fell to the cup in her fingers and back to him, a small smile threatening to dance on her lips "It's a virgin" And betraying her will to remain serious, a chuckle escaped as he tilted his face to the side, genuinely confused, before flashing that beautiful smile at her "The drink"

He raised an eyebrow at the addition.Taking his own drink, he leaned against the wooden counter, focusing his full attention on the girl, his face subtly tilted downwards, elbows resting on the glass so it played between his fingertips. He had chosen a bluish drink that for a few seconds made her curious about which of the funny names it might have.

"Virgins usually come in a different glass, you know" He said, gently tapping the glass forward, a small sound escaping his lips, something between a laugh and a sigh "You can ask them to switch, though"

Another small smile from him.

The girl ran her tongue over her lips, preparing to speak "Wow, am i being called out by someone whose name i don't even know? Dad should have taught me better" And when he let out a laugh, a genuine one this time, that made she feel almost glorious.

He was sooo handsome! Too to the point that she afraid to try to drink and choke, or say something and sound strange? Was she already being strange? God help her.

"Its Jackie" Jackie said, not taking her brown eyes off the girl for a single second, trying to decipher what was going on behind those blinking eyelashes "And please, if your father gets involved, don't tell him what i'm teaching his daughter about getting drunk without getting caught"

It was her turn to giggle, and the Jackson felt his posture melt at the sound.

He was studying her.

She didn't have the demeanor of a shy person, and certainly didn't seem to be — in a matter of seconds she had already spoken to two of his brothers and here she was joking with him — She seemed quiet, yes, that was the right word, her straight posture and firm shoulders conveyed too much confidence for her to be called anything other than purely antisocial.

"Dad would probably laugh" she finally replied, her lips circling the straw in a way that made him look away almost immediately "But my mom? She'd freak out, yeah, she freaks out about everything" she added with an eye roll.

Taking a sip of his drink, the older one mused "Oh yeah? That's funny, usually it's the fathers who are more protective of their daughters and all that stuf"

Shaking her head, she added,"I think if my dad could just leave me here and go somewhere else he would, actually, he kind of did" Giving him an amused look, a mischievous smile danced across her sinfully full lips "It's their wedding anniversary, you know? And i came along, so i got a room to myself and drinks without lectures, which was honestly worth it"

And Jackie tried to focus on what she said, but a room to herself? Oh, really? Like, hello? How are you? He was Sigmund Jackson and could only focus on that short sentence.

"My God, speaking of the devil!" She sounded a little more electric, adjusting her posture as a couple walked through the door — A tanned, grumpy-faced woman dressed all in black with a comically large hat, looking like she was going to a funeral in Hawaii, her arm linked with a humanized version of Donald Duck, blonde hair and a blue shirt that complemented a ridiculously large smile.

Jackie looked at her, immediately understanding that this cartoon-worthy couple were her parents.

Without much thought, he took the glass from her hands and immediately swapped it with his — finger-touching was what won over those big eyes again, and releasing all her breath in a heavy sigh, she leaned in to leave a loud kiss on his cheek, a little sticky, but screw the gloss, Jackie would drink that artificial strawberry scent if it meant having those lips a little more to the left.

She darted towards the couple, her feet almost slipping on the marble by the pool but quickly regaining her rhythm.

He smiled victoriously when he heard a loud "Hey!" from where his brothers were waiting for their drinks.This was definitely going to be a fun weekend.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

"And you kissed him!?"

"On the cheek, but i kissed him!"

Jen shouted from the other end of the line, the sound of her voice being muffled by something making you giggle loudly — you were both hiding under the covers talking about your first afternoon in California as if the fact that you'd put your lips on a boy was a state secret.

"And he was, oh my god, so handsome! You should have seen him, and he was with other guys, two of them were brothers, and they were all, like, so hot!"

Jen whimpered "I can't believe i'm stuck with a rehearsal with Ms. Jones while you're being blessed with a feast of boys to pick and choose from!"

"It's not pick and choose! Come on, if something's going to happen it's only going to be with one of them, right?"

"You're not crazy" her friend whispered almost aggressively from the other end of the line to Alexandria "You'll never see them again, kiss the cutest ones and have a story to tell me!"

"Jan!"

"I'm serious, the last boy you talked to is now afraid to look at you, you have to lose that reputation — and have your first kiss!"

"With a boy i barely know in California?"

"A hot boy you'll get to know well enough, and if you're smart, more than one!"

The call ended with your friend's mother entering the room, and you immediately had to pretend to be asleep with the phone in your hand. Even now, minutes after speaking with her, that little smile still danced on your lips as you hugged a pillow tightly.

Your lower lip was a victim of your teeth as you thought about the possibility of having something more with Jackie.

How silly of you, my god! You exchanged a few words with him and you were already thinking about kissing him? Jan certainly planted a seed in your thoughts that you would spend the night rolling around in.

Well, Marlon was there too, and he was cute.

And his brother? The nameless boy.

⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The Jacksons walked slowly through the simple bar — Tito had convinced the brothers to escape the luxurious hotel the production had arranged for them so they could explore the glittering streets of New Orleans. The sound of smooth jazz was the first thing that greeted them, sweet and slow like the thick smoke that covered the room.

Jackie was the first to go towards the bar, resting his arms lazily on the wooden counter, his sharp brown eyes focusing on the girls who danced freely on the dance floor in steps more than familiar.

The trumpet cut through the air in deep roars that seemed to make Michael's insides vibrate. He was still sleepy, but this time he had decided to give in to his brothers' requests; he was tired of always being alone — of always being the one waiting at the hotel to hear stories of their wild nights.

This time, he wanted to live one of those stories.

They sat down respectively in the form of a small staircase, from tallest to shortest. The two oldest were the first to turn towards the barista, chattering something he didn't bother to listen to, simply letting their loud laughter become just another among many.

The band, positioned on the small wooden stage, seemed to be preparing for something; behind the purplish silk curtains, an anxious figure moved. Michael couldn't see for sure, but he knew the musicians were frequently shifting their attention to the half-open, barely covered part of the fabric, as if they were equally waiting.

The drums hissed for a few seconds as if announcing their presence, and suddenly, the lights dimmed leaving only the stage lights prominent. People stopped dancing, and some girls let out anxious screams, high-pitched enough for Michael to smile at the feeling of déjà vu.

Everything seemed to become insignificant, however, when she appeared.

Slow, dragging steps, marked by the tap of her heels against the dark wood, the dress she wore covering only halfway down her shins, leaving a somewhat intriguing glimpse of them — the bluish fabric shimmered in the light, and the contrast with her dark skin created a silent conversation between the tones. She resembled a starry sky, her skin glowing in a way that instilled a desire to reach out and touch her; to know if she was as soft as she looked.

Her presence was greeted with loud whistles and applause. But this didn't affect her, not at all. Her walk was confident and seductive, as if she knew exactly the effect she had on people. Michael found himself holding his breath as he looked at her, fearing that the slightest gesture could awaken him from his intoxicating trance.

Slender fingers, covered by a long glove, held the microphone in a way that made his head spin at the thought of what could be held like that.

The rings she wore gleamed against the light focused on her presence, and his eyes narrowed, searching for her ring finger, cursing the thought of seeing even the slightest trace of gold there.

"Lord have mercy..." Jackie whispered, staring at the image before him, his lips parted as if he couldn't believe it.

Michael had never seen an angel, but he was certain that when he died — whoever came to take him would carry those long eyelashes and greenish eyes that burned within him the desire to be seen. Her short hair was perfectly tamed, small curls framing her forehead in an artistic way.

Her lips, painted with a wine-colored lipstick, moved closer to the microphone, slightly higher than her, and without realizing it, the boys leaned towards her, waiting to hear what she would say.

"Jurei mentiras e sigo sozinha..."

The Jackson audibly exhaled all the air from his lungs. What language was that? What voice was that? Deep and melodic, as if it had just been jolted from a long sleep, wrapping itself around him as if everything he had ever been, and could have been, was wrapped up in those sweet words.

Her eyes closed as she sang, the bluish shadow that traced her eyelids becoming evident. The eyeliner that made everything more dramatic wasn't limited to that bold line at the corner of her eyes, but also small lines below them that, from where he was, looked almost like tears.

And speaking of tears, Michael felt like crying for listening to that melody, obviously made by the hands of God, without giving anything in return. It seemed almost unfair, to be blessed in such a way without even being able to show how touched he truly was.

The bass sound was now slower and more drawn out, which provided the perfect opening for the dance floor to be taken over by young couples embracing in a slow waltz.

"Assumo os pecados, ooh-oooh"

"It's a damn siren right there" Tito intoned, taking a swig of the bitter liquid he carried in a glass, his head nodding heavily "See, Michael? These are the types you have to go after, curves that can make the best in the world lose himself" The Jackson's eyes rolled back as his name brought him back from his almost spiritual journey.

Jackie let out a low laugh, not bothering to take his attention away from the girl as he leaned in to say "Give me a beauty like that and five minutes, i'll be ruined for the others" The two brothers melted into a louder laugh, which made the younger one roll his eyes in disgust.

Jackie and Tito didn't know how to appreciate a real woman. Always treating them as goals to be conquered and objects to be taken. But Michael? No, he would never treat a lady that way — If God were good and allowed him to have such a beautiful blessing before him in his life, he would make her grateful for her mercy every second of his life.

He would know how to love her, how to keep her warm in the darkness of the night.

His love would be, oh so gentle, if she allowed it to touch her.

His heart beat to the rhythm of her song, and he imagined for seconds what it must be like to see her up close, what she would smell like? Would her hands be warm or cold? Would her skin, with its dark, almost golden tone, shiver at his touch? Oh, his mother would feel so proud to see him beside her.

"Meu sangue latino..."

He could swear, God, he was sure that those eyes, deep as two emeralds, had focused on him at that moment. His heart skipped a beat, no, every beat that followed that moment. His hands gripped the wooden bench he sat on, and the Jackson was certain his blood pressure plummeted at the sight.

He didn't know her name, didn't know who she was, what she liked, what she thought, but at that moment he was certain of only one thing — he needed that lady to be in his life.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

The aftermath was always something you hated.

Sore throat, trembling fingers from the anxiety of being watched, and exhausted lungs from maintaining a slow rhythm while your words sought rhythmic perfection. And somehow, that was what kept you alive, that was living.

Today's show had been slower than she was used to — Hector, her bassist, had mentioned earlier that the club's ticket price had gone up, but it hadn't occurred to her for a second that it would affect anything.

A cigarette rested between her fingers, her index and middle fingers holding the small, deadly straw with familiarity. Her gloves had been lost somewhere in the dressing room when her main concern was lighting the lighter without setting herself on fire.

Escaping through the lively bodies now dancing fervently to a Ray Charles cover, her feet carried her almost immediately to the bar. She needed to be on her feet for two more shows in nightclubs that were practically on the other side of New Orleans, and the heavy feeling in her eyes was unacceptable.

"Plaaaant" Her voice escaped in a purr that was immediately heard by the blond-haired boy, a smile twitching on his thin lips as her body leaned against the counter, the customer he was serving soon being left aside "The same as always, princess?" This time, the smile that appeared was hers.

Perhaps the number of dirty martinis you consumed that night was worrying for the new bartender to already treat you as usual, but honestly? Give a girl a break, you deserved it, and well, you loved olives.

Her shoulders turned toward the stage as her lips met the cigarette again, a heavy drag interrupted by a pair of eyes that burned more than the nicotine in her lungs. Her face tilted to the side, and there was an image that made her want to chuckle.

A boy who didn't seem old enough to enter staring at her with eyes larger than his face actually needed, innocent enough to carry a youthful gleam — He was staring at her as if she were the creature and he, Elizabeth Lavenza.

His afro caused a feeling of nostalgia, a longing for the time when her curly hair carried the same vivacity. That was, before her little outburst of wanting to look like one of the beautiful girls from the 1920s magazines her mother used to collect. A smile tugged at her lips as he remained there, silent, as if that could excuse the way he brazenly stared at her.

"Hey you" a deeper voice sounded from behind the boy as a more confident figure appeared, a young man strangely similar to the little thing in front of him, who carried a haughty look on his handsome face "It's truly a shame to see a woman as beautiful as you anywhere other than the Hollywood stage, sugar" His eyebrows rose and he walked from where he was in front of her.

Her eyes examined him from head to toe, tall and fragrant— just the way the devil liked it.

"Is that your standard line for the singers you see?" Her voice sounded ironic as her fingers reached for the small glass Plant had appeared to offer, the fiery drink soon finding its way down her throat as a small "Oooh" reached her ears.

"Only for the best ones" And you laughed, a charming little laugh that made Tito shift his weight from one foot to the other. Even though the corner of your lip was still upturned, your head subtly shook as the honeyed words slipped from your mouth "I'm a little too old to fall for that, sweetie, find someone closer to your age, maybe that'll work"

And in a harmonious movement, she detached herself from the bar, leaving in slow steps that soon made her image blend into the dim lights and the wandering bodies of the nightclub.

Jackie burst into a scandalous laugh while Michael frowned.

"Damn, Tito, you really prefer humiliation to sleeping peacefully, huh, brother? A kid like you wouldn't be able to handle all that, sorry brother"

A little too old?

Before Michael could process what he was doing, his feet led him to the door that glowed with a reddish hue.

"Authorized personnel only" His stomach churned at the thought of being found by someone. But no, the hallway, lit by a small yellowish lamp, was empty and continued with only three doors. Was this a mistake? He wondered as he tried to figure out what his plan was; in fact, he didn't even know if you were really there.

What had gotten into him? Just barging into the dressing room like that? What would he even say if he actually saw you?

This was a mistake, definitely a mistake.

As he turned to look for the exit, his eyes widened when a much smaller body collided with his — fingers rising, trying to contain the disaster he had caused with that impact.

Her eyes widened as the Martini glass slipped from her fingers, crashing to the floor; shattering glass was the only thing you heard before your eyes met the figure in front of you.

There he was again.

The boy with the beautiful eyes and angelic face.

His hands were on your hips, his face contorted in terror, which made her let out, for the first time that night, a more than genuine giggle.

Michael was terrified. No, that didn't even begin to describe what he was feeling. His body froze when he realized he was holding her, his fingers gently and almost imperceptibly tracing her waist — his heart was beating so fast he felt he would die right there, holding the very personification of an angel while all he could ask for was mercy.

"Are you alright?" she asked, and then he was sure, yes, God had been merciful enough to take him straight to paradise.

She was so beautiful up close.

So, so beautiful, that he wanted to cry, genuinely melt into tears and thank the damned soil that germinated the earth that allowed the home in which this being, so perfect and divine, could have been conceived.

He said nothing, he couldn't, he knew that if he opened his mouth he would probably vomit all the nervousness that invaded his body. And gently agreeing, he remained quiet, shamefully shrinking in his own misery.

A little confused, her eyebrows furrowed slightly, unsure what to do with the red-cheeked boy holding her "Look, it's okay, the drink wasn't even that good" A small smile "And you, were you lost or looking for someone?"

Ugh, that smile.

It almost made him apologize for daring to exist in the same reality as you.

"I..." Michael took a deep breath, trying to contain the trembling that was choking him. He had to be, no, he was a man and needed to act like one "I was looking for you, you know, not for a specific reason... No, and, i just, wanted to talk to you before, but, but my brother, he..."

The way she simply nodded, waiting for him to manage to formulate a sentence, didn't help him.

"That boy back there was your brother?" He agreed, looking away, knowing full well that if he continued staring into those green eyes, he would probably faint "He seemed a bit too arrogant to share your blood"

This, however, made him melt. Physically melt — his fingers releasing the soft fabric of her dress, his shoulders slumping, and his lips twitching as if he had just heard he had won the lottery.

"You think so?" And may God forgive you for all the sinful thoughts you had in that second, but seeing that boy staring at you as if you were the very reason for the universe's existence made you feel something more intoxicating than any drop of alcohol that entered your body that night.

"Uh-huh" And subtly agreeing, you took another step towards him, subtly lifting your face to meet his eyes "I hate when a guy thinks a pretty word will be enough to make me fall at his feet"

The Jackson was very aware of how close you were; your perfume was making it difficult to think — and even though you were significantly shorter than him, your presence seemed to consume him completely.

"They're idiots" he admitted, searching your face with a look that begged for mercy "They always say the same thing to all the girls and always get lucky, no matter where, Tito and Jackie always find someone" And the tone of frustration in his voice was evident.

"I find it ridiculous how they treat women, people who should be admired by someone for eternity, as if they were a new magazine or song they want to hear"

A small sound escaped your throat in recognition of his words. A poet, huh? You could recognize one from afar, and this boy seemed to carry an angelic melody in every phrase that escaped his full lips.

"Well, and what makes you different from them?" you ask with a curious little smile "Lack of opportunity doesn't make you the same, or your heart?"

Michael frowned.

"I would never be like them" His voice sounded a little deeper "If i had the opportunity to meet a girl, i would show her how grateful i can be — i don't want to have a girl, i want a girl to be proud to say she has me"

"Oh yeah?" You took a step forward "Don't you have the desire to possess within you?" One more step, and the scent he carried was overwhelming you — unlike the other boy who smelled of something masculine and woody, he carried a soft, sweet aroma, probably of night-blooming jasmine "To say that you have someone who belongs to you and that no one else will ever be able to have her?"

By this point, he had to look down to maintain eye contact with you.

And God forgive him, but the Jackson's fingers were tingling beside him, almost begging to feel the warmth of holding you again.

"I could never possess someone" he gasped, his eyes closing as he clung to the last vestiges of consciousness that tried to melt into the numbness of her presence "Isn't that what makes it all the more real? The person choosing you for being you? You don't possess, you deserve..."

And he knew, when her face tilted subtly upwards and her fingers — which up close were more delicate and feminine than she could ever imagine — placed themselves on top of his vest, that yes, he had been made for this moment. His existence had become real with the simple purpose of being able to admire her.

"And how do you deserve it, tell me?" Her voice faded into a low whisper, and he could swear he felt her slow breath send shivers down the skin of his neck, her eyes searching for him almost immediately, and oh my, how close she was.

Michael forgot to answer her when he had the signal of her face before him like that.

God bless the melanin that gave your skin its chocolatey hue, God bless your green eyes that shone for him in a way that made him swear he could see the secrets of life there — not only them, but also the future, the future of the two of you.

He was certain at that moment that not only now, but later, when you were old and gray together, he would still be hungry to have you as the lady of his life.

Her lips crashing against his were met with a low whimper; he had finally received the divine mercy he had begged for all his life for. With his shoulders melting and his head bowed towards you so you wouldn't have to strain at all to reach him, an exciting hand circled your back.

Her fingers tightened on the fabric of his vest, holding him precisely there, and after seconds of pressing her mouth to his, her lips moved gently, initiating a kiss — he didn't seem to know what to do, just waiting for her to move so she could imitate him.

This resulted in one of her hands rising to the boy's cheek, guiding him towards her carefully, her thumb gently caressing the small pimples that evidenced his youth, obviously present on his flushed skin.

After a few seconds, Michael finally understood her rhythm and, with a relieved sigh, he mustered the courage to move his mouth against hers, tracing the deliciously shaped contours of her full lips. He could die right there and be at peace. Without realizing it, he walked backward, his body pressed against the cold wall that served as support for him to pull her closer.

Her body was warm against his, and he wanted to keep that burning sensation in his memories, her arms curled up in his embrace, hips pressed together, and chests pressed tightly.

It was when her tongue touched his lips that the Jackson faltered.

He didn't want to let go, obviously not, but the weakness of shame was stronger than the "no" that his thoughts screamed.

"I don't..." He gasped against her mouth, his forehead pressing against hers as their eyes met again, and he was grateful that the light was dim enough that she wouldn't notice how wet they were "I don't know..."

Her smile was more than enough comfort, and the little laugh that bubbled from her, which at another moment would have made him want to die, made him feel warm and confused inside. In the best possible way.

She leaned in, stealing a small kiss from him, quick enough to be gone before his lips had even closed in that little pout.

"Just do as i do" She moved again, her mouth slightly parted seductively inviting him like a siren inviting a sailor to explore the depths of the sea. And he, obviously, let himself be, proudly, completely drowned.

The sensation was warm, wet, and brought an agonizing discomfort to the Jackson's lower stomach.

Her tongue searching for his was a curious feeling, making him want to giggle and whimper at the same time. And when he finally felt confident enough to return the caress, Michael finally understood the meaning of life.

Yes, the meaning of his life was her.

The lady with green eyes and a carefree laugh (only for him, however) was the reason for his life.

Her fingers slid down his neck to the nape of his neck, and pressing her fingers against the boy's hair, his only response was to let out a breathless moan against her mouth, trying to contain the urge to melt in her fingers.

He knew that this wasn't a man's role — to melt in a woman's arms like that — He remembered Jermaine and Marlon's advice about what he should do and how he should do it, but now? Honestly, he wanted her to simply take from him whatever she wanted and needed.

His free hand rested on the nape of her neck, making sure she was comfortable in that position, his other arm embracing her against him.

From your closeness, you obviously felt the effect you were having on the boy. His hips trembled anxiously as if he didn't know how to handle all the blood rushing there at that moment, and letting your fingers release his vest, your hand lowered its direction.

Michael melted into your mouth, losing the rhythm of the kiss when he felt your fingers descend towards his stomach, and almost in a shock, his hips moved away from you.

"I, I don't... We..." He gasped, letting his face bury itself in your neck as if seeking shelter "I don't even know...we don't even know each other's names."

Your heart practically melted at those words. The boy in your arms wasn't like any man you'd ever been with; he trembled so shyly against your neck, not really having the courage to look you in the eye and say no, and that, strangely, only made you want him even more.

Whispering your name in a low tone, your words continued "We could get a drink before we continue" And that caught his attention, and subtly agreeing, the Jackson breathed deeply into your neck before lifting his face again.

His afro was a little messy and his eyes heavy with desire, his dark skin kissed by a soft pink hue "You want it? With me? Really?" And then he gave the brightest smile you'd ever seen, perfectly aligned teeth and a slight curve of his lower lip that made everything more than perfect.

"I still want to see how you earn it" And he laughed, genuinely laughed, seeing that you knew exactly what to say and when to say it.

"Michael" he sounded a little less anxious "I mean, you can call me Michael, Michael Jackson"

And her eyes widened.

⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ 𝑨 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 !? 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

"What's Going On" played softly on the small radio perched on the bedside table, the cord dangling from the it caught between your fingers and now coiling in small, asymmetrical waves. Feets moving back and forth unconsciously to the rhythm of the music while the buzzing of the phone was all that truly mattered.

Freddie was, for the hundredth time since his producer had suggested the idea, cursing the mere existence of the King of Pop as if every action he took were a personal offense — from the way he sat at the piano as if listening to a story from his elementary school teacher to the way his hands had to hold the glasses he drank from as if his motor skills weren't really reliable and well...

"A llama!?" Her laughter echoed hysterically through the phone, making your friend huff so dramatically you could swear it was Roger, not him "Freddie, darling, i think you need to stop sniffing every white thing you see in front off you, what do you mean, 'he brings a llama to the studio'?"

Of all the reasons Mercury had given you for adding the subtitle "Weird" to the Jackson, this was certainly the most ridiculous one — and considering how many hours he'd spent judging the boy's choice of sweaters, or rather, his Disney sweater collection, you could consider this the most plausible, if true.

"I swear to you!" His british accent melted into a dramatic whine, laden with amusement that made his tone velvety, like someone who knew exactly the effects he could have on others, a self-confidence that could be sold in bottles.

"The first time i saw him, i was already blessed with the image of him dressed as if nana had chosen donald duck's best coat and styled his hair with gel, and i thought it was cute, put me in jail for that, but i did thought..." A pause, and you can clearly hear the drag he took in his cigarette "But when he decided to bring that...thing to the studio, are you fucking with me? You should see the size of that thing, it's like a Teletubby who forgot to evolve from the quadruped stage"

Another giggle of you, not as hysterical as before, sounded through the line making his eyes roll against his head. Freddie usually treated every little interaction as if it were a scene from a movie, as if every second, every color, every outfit, had an intense and philosophical meaning.

"Maybe he just likes to dress like nana's little boy?" Her voice sounds a little lower, a faint chuckle tone to it "I mean, if i had to spend my days loaded down with sparkly jackets and leather pants, i'd definitely dress like this when i was alone"

Her body turns in bed, eyes moving toward the poster plastered on the ceiling, reminding her with a smile of the day she and her friend bought the accompanying magazines at the newsstand across from their college. The image of Michael Jackson in character for the short film Thriller grinned at her with yellowish eyes and a malevolent expression.

"As for the llama..." A breath escapes through her nose, fingers momentarily covering her mouth "Just ignore it, if it's really there, at least it won't talk to you or anything, and besides, i once saw a documentary about them in sixth grade and they're quite cute"

"Cute? Bloody hell, even his fans are as crazy as he is..." And that murmur was enough to make a "Hey" sound from her end of the call.

"I can hear you, you know? And i still think you're exaggerating, love, it can't be that bad"

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

"I really don't think it's a good idea to bring me here without telling him anything" Her words escaped in a low tone, slow steps dictated by the soft tapping of her boots on the ground announcing her arrival to anyone nearby, her eyes focused on the view ahead with a certain curiosity.

Everyone knew where the Jacksons lived; this was obvious considering their life seemed more like a television show than something truly real, so walking down the brick path leading to their private studio was almost like being in an episode of Sesame Street and trying to act casual.

Freddie, however, walked unwaveringly beside her, a cigarette between his lips and his hands in the pockets of his aviator jacket, his hair disheveled from having chosen to sleep a little longer than necessary to arrive on time.

"If he turns the studio into a zoo, me bringing a kitten won't bother him, my love" he replied, staring at her for a few seconds over his sunglasses, lips curling into a smug smile when he saw her roll her eyes, which quickly melted into a smile.

The nervousness that made her stomach churn was obvious — you were on the Jackson property! — And even more so, you were walking to meet the little prodigy who had filled your mornings before school with songs too grown-up for him, so yeah, perhaps you were a little more than nervous.

Would you run into one of his brothers? God, you'd swear you'd faint if you saw Jackie in front of you after swearing eternal love to the poster of him that your mother threw away for not supporting her daughter's supposed "idolatry".

Arriving at the small cabin a little further away from the main rooms, Mercury knocked a few times on the door before grabbing the handle, pushing the wooden door open before any response could even be uttered.

The first thing that greeted you was the smell, one you couldn't quite define but that reminded you of a furniture store — those kindas where nothing really shows the price, and the people are too polite for you to really want to ask them anything — and then, your eyes carefully scanned the place.

The floor was covered by a reddish carpet that strangely resembled the one in your grandmother's house, and seeing Freddie take off his shoes to step on it, made you quickly bent down to try and pull off your boots as fast as possible, resulting in a stumble that almost made you see the golden designs embroidered on the fabric up close.

That's when you heard it.

"Everything alright in there?" A voice as soft as your bed on a rainy morning, intertwined with an almost angelic, pure gentleness, carrying within it a tone of curiosity and concern that made you look almost immediately.

And thank God, if you hadn't already gotten rid of your boots you probably would have fallen to the floor.

The image you had of him in your head was mainly based on two things: the cover of the recently released Thriller and the mini-film that carried the same title. But seeing him there, in front of you — so real and so him — made you understand why the people you used to laugh at fainted in his presence and that of his brothers.

Michael Joseph Jackson seemed like a work of art that no one was truly worthy of seeing.His curly hair was a little looser than you usually saw in magazines or interviews, a few small strands curling in front of your eyes — and stop right there, right there — his eyes? Brown like melted chocolate, carrying a warmth that seemed to embrace you simply by looking at him? Shining as if, even as an adult, he still carried that youthful glow within him?

A small smile tugged almost immediately at the corner of your lips as your eyes, in a shy faltering glance, fell down, encountering the reddish sweater he was wearing, the Mickey Mouse embroidery staring at you with an almost comical look hidden behind a wizard's cloak.

"Everything perfect, just a young lady making her presence known" A weak laugh echoed from your friend, who in a familiar way walked towards one of the leather-toned sofas, sitting down with a low sound, one leg thrown over the other and a heavy sigh as if the short walk from the car had affected him somehow.

You could almost see the question mark that formed Michael's expression as he looked at you, and after a few seconds, his gaze shifted to Mercury.

Actually, a "Who the hell is this person and what are they doing here?" would have been more fitting for the situation.

"You know, i was thinking, and since you made yourself comfortable enough to bring a little company for us, i thought one of my own would be more than fair" Mercury began, letting his face subtly tilt to the side as a small smile that, upon closer inspection, carried a hint of mockery made itself present in his thin lips.

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you tried to understand what was going on in the air. Jackson wouldn't be bringing the llama to the studio to annoy Freddie, would he? Well, you prayed not, since if that were the case apparently you were his revenge.

"Well, you could have told me" The voice that answered you carried no bitter tone, in fact, none that you could pick up from where you were "Since i thought it would just be us, i ended up sticking to the same old thing, could have made some coffee or..." Realizing he was stretching out his sentence too much, he suddenly stopped, looking at you for a few seconds.

Your lips tightened into a thin line that miserably mimicked a smile, fingers rising in a wave that in your head had sounded less like "I'm a child without friends" and more like a casual "hey."

"Don't mind me being here, seriously, i'm just going stick for a bit" And with that, your feet moved you toward the sofa where your friend was resting — away from your boots that added a good nine centimeters to you, you felt a little small in that studio, and the sight of your mismatched socks didn't really help.

"You don't bother" He replied almost immediately, his eyes following the unfamiliar figure that now seemed to be the center of the studio.

Michael was trying to figure out if he'd ever seen you before, actually, trying to figure out what you were. A girlfriend of Freddie's? A producer? Maybe a ghostwriter? No, none of those descriptions really seemed to fit the girl in front of him.

Your wavy, high hair reminded him of his adolescence, of the pretty, older girls that Tito and Jermaine used to date after shows — Outdated, but that pseudo-pompadour with a slightly short fringe suited you in a classic, yet harmonious way.

Looking at you was like hearing the echo of ABBA's "Dancing Queen" playing in the back of his head; your bell-bottom pants beautifully accentuated your hips, ending before they even covered your navel. The t-shirt you were wearing was obviously a cut-off, the "Queen" album cover faded so that only Roger Taylor was recognizable from where he was.

What caught Michael's attention most, however, were the earrings — he hadn't seen a pair like that since he was a child, thick acrylic hoops that, even in their black hue, carried a whisper of the Beatlemania era.

It was nostalgic, even though her clothes couldn't have been more than ten years old; seeing her reminded him of the girls who used to fill the Jackson 5 shows.

"It's funny that when i decide to bring her, our little...Companion isn't here" Freddie began again, not bothering to move when she sat down, only moving his arm to rest behind the girl on the sofa "Where's Louise, Mikey?"

Her eyebrows furrowed for the second time that afternoon. Why did he want the llama to be there? Wasn't he, as you'd heard all last week, the biggest problem distracting him from writing anything?

Michael moved slowly to the small pouf in front of the sofa where the two were resting, sinking into the bluish object that almost swallowed him "His name is Louie, and he's eating now, he prefers to eat outside so i thought it best to let him...Resting"

A "haan" cut through the air, and you felt like sinking into that sofa at how obvious Mercury was being in making his contentment clear.

"I heard you have two of them, llamas, i mean, is that true?" The girl began, a little nervous, her voice faltering in the pronunciation of english that suddenly seemed like a new language in her mouth, her fingers crossing in front of her body as she assumed the typical pose of someone who didn't know what to do with her own body.

Even though he was a little suspicious, without even understanding exactly why, Jackson replied "I had another one before Louie, his name was Lola, he was the most beautiful llama in the whole world, he had all-white fur and liked people to hug him and..."

Her eyes stared at him attentively, as if suddenly llamas were the most interesting subject in the world, and agreeing a little faster than usual, Michael took this movement as a small encouragement, letting his voice become a little louder than it was, he continued.

"I think Lola was smaller than Louie, but he's a pretty big adult, so well, he also eats a lot so i think that must interfere with something" The singer's eyes wandered over the carpet beneath his own feet, avoiding eye contact with the girl in front of him.

He didn't quite understand, but every time he was speaking and met her gaze fixed on him with such attention, it was almost as if his words became allergic, becoming drawn out of thin air. It stuck in his throat in a pathetic way that made him stutter ridiculously.

"So there are two?" And he felt like a fool hearing her repeat the question, incredible Michael, you spoke for a whole minute and weren't able to answer the only question asked.

"Yes, yes...Two, actually, Lola was attacked by one of my dogs when i wasn't home so...It's just Louie now"

"Ah"

The girl's reaction was so genuine that Mercury, who had been silent, couldn't help but chuckle softly.

"Cheers, love, the only thing you're encouraging here is a melancholic atmosphere" He brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a final drag before purposefully blowing the smoke on her "Not that i'm against it, whatever it is, if something comes out today we'll be lucky"

Right, the music, after all, that was the only reason they came back to this position every week, huh? The need to create.

"I was thinking, you know, that we could do something with a more pop feel? I think it would be a good combination between you and me" The dark-haired boy's soft voice sounded gentle, while his gaze fell on the couple in front of him.

The girl was sitting comfortably on the sofa, legs stretched out in front of her as if she didn't care about her posture, and a pair of colorful socks, one aqua green with polka dots and the other white with blue stripes. Mercury, who had previously rested one arm behind her, now had captured a strand of her hair between his fingers, twirling it in a rhythmic back-and-forth motion.

Do they...?

Well, they definitely should be a couple, Jackson assumed from the way they were so close without really caring about it. Legs touching and shoulders closer than he would consider friendly.

It was strange; he barely knew her, but the idea of her being with Freddie seemed strangely wrong.

"I think you two would go well singing something along the lines of 'Lady of My Life'" she suggested after a few seconds, her eyes following the man beside her before letting her face fall toward the one in front of her.

Could this be her favorite song? From the album? Of all the songs he had ever composed? He asked himself for some seconds.

"Even though dying of love isn't something that's quite the routine, the fans would like it" A soft shrug echoed from her, a small smile dancing between her glossy lips "I mean, at least Freddie is closer to converting than to finding a girlfriend, so"

Michael's eyes widened subtly at her words, a giggle bubbling in his chest before he could even think twice.

"I'm happy enough with my cats, missy big mouth, and writing about love is the most clichéd thing ever" the brit retorted, making little effort to hide his smile "Old souls like me are already tired of that, and this kid here? He still has a lot to learn before he gets to that"

Another couple of laughs, and suddenly Jackson felt his cheeks heat up at the little jab. His musical partner was obviously older than him; well, when he was performing with his brothers, Queen was already one of the biggest names in the industry, so being embarrassed about being taken down like that by him was a bit silly.

"Oh, honey, you forget that not everyone is so lustful as you" she defended him playfully, accepting the cigarette that was offered to her.

His brown eyes watched the movement intently, fingers touching, index and middle holding dangerously close to the part that burned in an orange hue, which intensified when it came into contact with the red of her lips. She inhaled the smoke for a few seconds before turning her face in the opposite direction, exhaling the smoke.

He felt a little uncomfortable with the scene, not in a strange way, actually — he didn't even know if it could really be called uncomfortable.

"Michael is a lover, not a fighter, yeah?" And her words this time brought a broad smile to his face, perhaps from the surprise of the quote or simply from the feeling of recognition that warmed his chest, one that made him want to roll on the floor.

"Things are different for him"

Are they?

⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ 𝐎𝐡! 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The days at the new school weren't the best, and after father lost his job due to staff cuts — leaving her friends at the old boarding school and having to go back home after all those years was, in a way, painful.

She missed home, of course she did, the apple pies mom made were still her favorite, and the smell of her bed still carried that soft scent of laundry she loved so much. But after experiencing freedom, returning to her little box was a bit more complicated.

She missed being able to laugh freely at any silly thing Medalaine would say during study time, or lying under one of the trees while Mrs. Parton tried to convince the girls that the afternoon sun would do them nothing but harm.

She liked being at home, in fact, she liked the silence the place provided after long afternoons listening to the radio, something that, God forgive her, but would give her mother a heart attack if she even dreamed that her daughter was fantasizing about something as adult as love while listening to the sugary melodies Lanie collected.

A small smile appeared on the young girl's lips as she remembered those afternoons, so distant yet so close.

Her shoes tapped against the perfectly polished wood of the hallway in a soft sound, steps being left behind as her curious eyes searched for someone's presence in the room, being greeted in the kitchen with nothing but a plate that exuded the smell of guava and coffee.

Her face tilted subtly to the side, strands falling from her ponytail as the tips of her fingers — which used to carry a pinkish hue of nail polish, now clean and short — dragged the beautifully written paper towards her.

"For the Newtons, don't eat"

Right, she remembered her mother mentioning something about the neighbors from down the street coming over for dinner that night, which is why she and father were at the town market at this hour buying everything they needed. Jack Newton worked at a record label, and even though music was something the pastor didn't approve of, a job in that field would be quite useful.

Letting the air from her lungs escape in a heavy sigh, the girl made a decision; she needed some fresh air before her family returned. She was so used to spending her days embroidering, drawing, and giggling that now that everything had become quiet, she had already cleaned every room in the house, not even sparing Grandma's teacup collection.

And before she could really realize it, she was admiring the round clouds that made the sky almost entirely white, that morning was sunny, and her feet were warming up inside her white socks. She was still dressed in the standard attire of the boarding school: a baby blue skirt that covered halfway down her heels, a white blouse with small daisies embroidered on the collar, and her trusty Mary Jane shoes.

She had forgotten her coat on her bed, but at that moment she was even a little grateful for it, knowing that by now she would be melting inside the cotton fabric.

Something near the Miller's house caught her attention — what she thought was the chirping of a small bird turned out to be the meow of a small kitten stumbling through the green grass as if searching for something, its orange fur gleaming in the sun as if it were a small tangerine rolling around.

A smile tugged at the girl's lips as she bent down, extending two fingers toward the little feline.

"Hey you" Her voice escaped in a low tone, almost a whisper, which was answered with a shrill meow, as if the little being were demonstrating all its glory in the cutest way of all "Where's your mommy, baby? She must be looking for you"

The tips of her fingers gently touched the top of its little head, a soft caress on its soft fur — it trembled slightly, as if the simple act of standing was costing it all its energy — and when the girl finally ceased to be a threat, the little one curled up into a small bun.

On the other side of the street, little Janet ran from her brothers as if her short life depended on it, the water gun forgotten between her little fingers when her only concern had been escaping Michael and Marlon, who were laughing like the clowns in the cartoons she watched.

Joseph was away on a business trip, something that needed to be sorted out regarding the next Jackson 5 album that needed to be dealt with in court — they didn't care what it was, in reality, the second the car left the streets the brothers' only concern was who would be the first victim of Jermaine's antics.

And speaking of which, his quick legs carried him after Marlon with an almost frightening speed, his brother had managed to completely rob him of his sanity the minute he ruined his perfect afro by pointing that damned gun at his hair for what seemed like an eternity.

And taking their eyes off their younger brothers, the two ran across the neighbors' lawns, screaming shrilly.

That was until Marlon tripped over something, a ridiculously large rock that sent his face crashing into the ground, leaving him in an embarrassing position with his legs flying and his arms crushed beneath his body.

And before he could even process what had happened, the rock beneath him let out a loud scream that made his body rise in a second, forgetting any painful feeling, which was quickly replaced by an adrenaline rush more intense than before.

Jermaine was the first to react, dropping his water gun on the ground and quickly moving to help the girl who was lying face down on the grass, her face confused and her cheeks flushed as if all the blood in her body had been concentrated there.

"Marlon! What's wrong, man, where are your eyes at?" Exclaimed the older one in a tone that suggested he knew exactly what trouble he was in, and when he finally moved his hands to her shoulders, lifting her like a little doll, his eyes widened.

Joplin, simply the daughter of one of the most conservative families in the entire neighborhood, and whom his mother had always made sure the older Jacksons never got close to. As far as he knew, the girl had left town to study at a convent while her parents kept their noses a bit too high.

She had studied the first years with him — and to say the girl wasn't pretty would be a lie from Jermaine, and an ugly one at that. Her round, large eyes gave her the appearance of a doll, and even though he was centimeters shorter the last time they saw each other, he felt she hadn't changed one bit.

Her lips were still the same round, reddish ones, like cherries, her pale face still carried that yellowish tone he remembered being a source of jokes from the other children. Her face still held that pious expression, as if she were ready to melt into tears at any second.

She was still her, the quiet girl who hung out with the school nerds and went to church every Sunday, the same girl who wore a yellowish cross around her neck that shone in the sun, and obviously, the same girl whose parents forbade her from speaking to any kind of minority who dared to walk the streets of Encino.

"Damn, are you okay?" Marlon's broken voice snapped him out of his trance, his eyes refocusing on the figure in front of him, who remained as dumbfounded as he was "Your knee, oh my god, ma's going to kill us!"

Her eyes fell to her own legs upon hearing the boy's words — his voice trembled as if the word "Mom" was the same threat to him as it was to her.

And seeing a reddish stain on the socks covering her knees, she could understand the reason for his despair.

"It's okay" Her voice broke through, a little hoarser than she intended, but enough for her words to come out "I was down and you were running, neither of us saw the other...It was, it was a mistake on both sides"

Taking a small step back, she distanced herself from Jermaine's fingers, which continued to hover near her arm, an action he maintained without even realizing it "But you're hurt! Well, i ate some dirt, but i'm not bleeding like that"

The younger Jackson put his hands to his head as if the sight of her bloody knees was the vision of death itself, and after releasing his breath in a loud sigh, his brown eyes searched his brother as if all the answers lay with him.

But the truth was, even he had no idea what to do — he knew her parents' reputation and, frankly, he had no idea if she shared their views — which was certainly the case, so, well, he didn't have the slightest idea what to do.

A little embarrassed and overly self-conscious, her fingers slid down her skirt, trying to straighten the wrinkled fabric. A few taps were enough to remove the small pieces of grass that had mingled with the lace.

Her mother would kill her if she saw her like that.

Her knees burned, scraped enough that her socks were clearly showing the crime, making her a little terrified about what to do about it.

Moving one of his hands to her arm, Marlon held her before she could say anything, pulling her forward, which resulted in a wide-eyed look from her, who strangely obeyed in silence.

"Come on, let us at least help you clean up... And, well, we can give you one of my sister's socks! That's right, Latoya has so many that she won't even...She won't even notice, right, Jermaine?"

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

The Jackson's house smelled of pine and expensive perfume.

You wished you'd had the courage to refuse their help, but deep down you knew any refusal would be ignored by the image of the electrically worried boy in front of you, and besides...You needed his help, you needed that little accident to be covered up.

That's why this moment was becoming a reality, your body curled up on the ridiculously large sofa that adorned the main room — something you didn't quite understand when left their lips. If that was the main room, did they had other rooms? Well, your eyes were too focused on the colorful records decorating the walls to think about that, most of them in gold and silver tones.

They had disappeared seconds after telling you to sit there and wait, and somewhat awkwardly, you simply complied with the boys' request.

You knew your father would be angry if he found out you were walking alone in the presence of two boys, and on top of that, two...No, you shook your head, refusing to think that this should even be a plausible problem in anyone's mind.

It was difficult, sometimes, to maintain the same thoughts as your parents.

You were an obedient girl, you listened to the pastor and knew that you should love the other as you loved yourself, so why did mother and father hated anyone who wasn't like them? Wouldn't that be a sin, then?

Jermaine's tall figure appeared in one of the doors, pulling her from her little epiphany, and subtly adjusting her posture, the girl dragged her hands, which rested beside her on the sofa, to her lap, crossing her fingers in an anxious squeeze.

She remembered him from algebra class, remembered his perfectly styled hair and how contagious his smile was — she'd never seen a girl stand in front of the older Jackson without letting out a charming giggle.

Her friend from second grade had a crush on him, and knew every line in his Jackson 5 songs and made a point of reciting them to her every time the boy came into her field of vision. It was a little strange now, however, to face him in front of her and hear the backing vocals of ABC in the back of her mind.

"I thought your parents sent you to live with the nuns" he said after a moment of silence, fingers sinking into the pockets of his grayish pants.

And before she knew it, a slightly incredulous smile played on her lips "I went to a boarding school, it had nothing to do with nuns — i'm not catholic either, they're not..." Shaking her head, a weak chuckle escaped her.

The taller one let out an "Aaah" sound as if you had just explained why the sky is blue.

With her face tilted downwards, her shoulders shook slightly with the effort it took to contain the giggle that stubbornly escaped her, before her eyes sought him again "Is that what they say about me? That i went to study to be a nun?"

"Study with nuns, is different" He raised his eyebrows as if to say "Y'know?" As he walked toward her, his slow steps muffled by the wine-colored carpet "And when you moved in, everyone assumed that was it, you know, you kind of lived at church and were..." A pause "Yeah, are all proper, that's the obvious thing to think"

Her lips parted, but before a response could form, Marlon entered the room accompanied by a taller, more serious young man — not that that was the best word to describe his expression, which bordered on boredom, but for lack of a better one, it was her definition.

He looked her up and down with his arms crossed over his chest before letting out a long sigh that dissolved into a shake of his head.

"I knew you guys were wannabe thugs, but hitting a girl? Seriously? And on top of everything, the Joplin's daughter?" He walked toward her with heavy steps, stopping a few centimeters from the coffee table and from you "The two of you together are the meaning of an egg carton saying 'contains eggs,' i swear"

Shrinking slightly in her seat, her face lifted a little so she could observe him better — of the three boys, this one seemed to be the oldest. His hair, which should have been styled in a rounded afro, now had a slightly crumpled shape, as if he had been lying down for a long time, and the tank top from some team left his arms quite exposed.

Mother would make her pray three times just imagining her looking at a boy's arms.

"They didn't hit me, it was an accident" A soft sigh escaped her "I only came because he said he'd get me a new pair of socks, and i really need them, not that i don't have any, but my parents would kill me if i told them what happened"

And strangely, you expected the Jacksons to laugh at you, call you silly or a daddy's girl like the other kids used to do at school, but no, an awkward silence hung in the air as Jermaine and Marlon simply lowered their heads as if they felt guilty about something you certainly couldn't understand.

"I just don't know if Latoya would give you any of hers" he continued, kneeling in front of you in such a genuine way that your body almost immediately recoiled, sinking into the sofa "Especially after those two got the magazine she was reading this morning wet"

And regardless of the stare the boys gave you, your only focus was on the older boy's hands moving towards your heels. Large hands, and well, warm hands...Warm skin touching yours over your socks stained with a dirty earth tone.

Your shoulders shrugged as he lowered the sock covering the bruise, and oh my, the gasp that escaped Marlon's lips perfectly captured your thoughts when you saw the reddish scrape tearing your scarlet skin. Blood trickled down in a stain, and although the sock had managed to contain it, the wound remained wide open.

A little annoyed by the boy's touch on your leg, you subtly pulled it towards you, not bothering to think about the impression it would leave on him, but rather trying to soothe that strange sensation that seemed to burn the spot where he touched you.

"Shit...I'll have to see, i think Mom must have something in her room? Or i dunno" He stood up, running his fingers through the back of his neck, assessing the situation at hand "Look in the bathrooms, grab anything you find, and for God's sake, stay away from the girl"

Swiping out like two bolts of lightning, Jermaine and Marlon got into position for their mission while he walked away muttering something about having continued to sleep and that they owed him one.

The silence lasted for a few minutes until you heard some footsteps, slower and almost imperceptible — but accustomed to noticing the presence of those approaching, your eyes focused on the nearest entrance.

When the boy entered your field of vision, you wondered if today would be the day the entire Jackson 5 would see you in that miserable state, your hair loose and now messy, face red from bravely holding back tears for long minutes.

He was walking in a dragging way, but when he passed you, he stopped for a few seconds as if questioning his own vision, and turning in a comically hard way he stared at you as if you had just broken into his house like a thief.z.

Well, that wasn't entirely a lie.

Large eyes and melancholically long eyelashes stared at your face as if you were a being from another planet, the very headlight facing the deer that didn't know whether to play dead or run at the sign of your radiant presence.

"You're bleeding" he observed after a long analysis of your image, and as his eyebrows furrowed subtly, you knew immediately which of the five was speaking to you — after all, Michael was the only Jackson with a voice as velvety as a siren's.

The last time you'd seen the boy was at a school performance the day they appeared on a major television show, one of many to come, and to your surprise, that little boy with the carefree giggle and bright eyes had now stretched to twice your height.

But well, the sparkle was still there, you could see it clearly, and for a few seconds you remembered when Natalie showed you the small notebook with the drawing of Bambi that she had received from her boyfriend — Bambi, his eyes resembled those of the little lamb.

"Yes, i noticed, thanks" A soft smile played on her lips, and her eyes fell to her hands in her lap, her face strangely warming at his gaze "Your brothers made me fall, i was looking at a kitten in the street, and one of them fell on top of me, actually"

Michael furrowed his brow in a curious expression "Was it Jermaine?" You subtly shook your head.

"I can't quite remember his name, but it was that one..." The girl's face tilted slightly to the side as she tried to think of some striking feature of her little aggressor "You know? The tall one, but not the...Not the tallest of them all"

And seeing her gesture as if she could somehow describe her brothers that way, Jackson felt a chuckle bubble in his chest, which was quickly suppressed by the embarrassment of smiling so openly at a girl he barely knew.

Adjusting his posture slightly, one of his hands rose to his lips for a few seconds, his eyes falling to the floor as he tried to cling to the seriousness he should maintain.

"Tito was home and Jackie was asleep, so it was probably Marlon" He agreed, letting his arms meet behind his back, feet swinging back and forth in a way to distract himself from that strange longing that ran through his body.

Her shoulders melted, a little smile that sounded more like a defeated sigh "There are too many names for me, and you guys look so much alike"

And God, Michael knew he should have kept his big mouth shut, but before he could really think, his words slipped out in a feigned tone of disbelief "You're saying that because we're black!?"

And that was enough to make the girl turn as red as a tomato and shout a "no!!" so loud that it made her stand up, shaking her head almost immediately "That's not what i meant, i swear, you're siblings! And you look alike because of that, because you're siblings" Her slender fingers covered her mouth, as if trying to swallow the words.

And Jackson? Well, he was letting out the loudest, most intense laugh he'd given in a long time, his face equally hidden between long fingers that avoided showing his expression.

"I'm just teasing you" His breathless voice melted into a smile so radiant it seemed to blind her, and despite her red cheeks, the signal was enough to make her even hotter, and suddenly he added more quickly "You look cute like that"

Joplin's hands fell from her mouth and, with wide eyes, she was confronted with the scene of him turning around in an embarrassingly clumsy run.

Marlon appeared completely confused in the room, staring at her with wide eyes "Did i hear you scream? Are you okay? Did your knee start bleeding again?" And dropping the bandage he was holding in his hands, he moved towards her with anxious steps.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

Michael was running towards his room with a smile so wide it made his cheeks hurt. He had never spoken to a girl like that! Much less made her blush so much!

He should have asked her name, should have asked if she was dating one of his brothers or if she intended to be, but he couldn't control himself. The words that seemed to disappear from his vocabulary in the presence of other girls simply flew from his lips in a victorious attempt to make her shy.

And it was in his accelerated run that he stopped seconds before bumping into Jackie, his feet dragging on the carpet and his panting body stopping in a startled way in front of his brother.

"What got you running, man?" With a raised eyebrow, he analyzed the younger boy from head to toe before letting out a sigh and shaking his head "You know what, not my problem, yeah, i should have said that, it's absolutely not my problem"