The hotel suite was dark. Complete silence surrounded the space. Michael rolled onto his back what felt like the hundredth time that night. The red digits of the alarm clock next to him were blinding, and he pulled an arm over his eyes. A book lay discarded somewhere at his feet. A container of sleeping pills stood on the bedside table, the lid unscrewed. He had taken two, but they had the same effect on him like a piece of candy. The room felt hot, despite the temperature outside being rather low. He kicked the plush blanket off of him with his legs, slight relief washing over his body as it was grazed by cool air. He slid his arm off and let it fall onto the empty pillow beside him, staring at the ceiling. A deep sigh escaped him, his pulse quickening out of frustration. Sleep never seemed to come to him when he needed it most. Michael tried relaxing once more, closing his eyes and trying to even out his breathing. But his body felt stiff, restless. Rolling onto his side didn’t help either. His body just wouldn’t cooperate. Another sigh left his lips, before he realized this won’t lead him anywhere. He sat up slowly, eyes drifting through the empty and quiet room before pulling his legs over the edge of the bed. His body rested in that position, hands gripping at the mattress and head hanging low. The humming of the air conditioner seemed unusually loud in the moment.

His hand found the bedside lamp's switch, turning it on with a soft click. He squinted his eyes together, trying to adjust to the sudden light after lying in the dark for hours. Michael rose from the bed slowly, his limbs feeling heavy. He watched the clock. 2:13AM. There wasn’t much he could do at this time of day. He stepped closer to the window, observing the surrounding area of the hotel. Empty streets and black windows looked back at him, the only thing glowing in the dark was a convenience store across the road. At this point, anything was better than being stuck in this empty hotel suite. Michael wandered through the suite, gathering his shades and pulling a baseball cap over his disheveled hair. Before he moved outside, he gathered a black blazer in his hands, clinging onto it as he walked along the dimly lit hallways of the hotel. Only once he was in the elevator, did he pull the blazer over his elegant pajama, looking a little ridiculous. But Michael couldn’t be less bothered, the streets were empty, no media in sight. He buried his hands in the pockets of the expensive jacket, his fingers stumbling on a pack of gum. He shoved one strip into his mouth as the elevator doors opened with a soft ding. His fingers played with the single wrapper. The worker behind the counter greeted him with a polite smile, and Michael only raised his hand in acknowledgment. The cool night air felt refreshing as he stepped through the doors, the quiet buzzing of the street lights filling his ears. He crossed the street in slow strides, making his way to the convenience store.

You sat behind the counter, a book in your hand. And as you heard the door chimes clinking against each other, alerting you that a customer had entered, you didn’t bother to look up.

As Michael entered the shop, he spotted you sitting behind the counter, the fluorescent lights burning in his eyes. The store was empty, no other customer beside him in sight and he started quietly walking through the aisles, looking at the different products. There wasn’t really something he needed, his eyes drifting around without purpose. He dragged his feet through the small shop for about ten minutes, before grabbing a water bottle and placing it on the counter.

You finished the sentence you were reading, before standing up and scanning the water bottle. You gave him an expectant look, staying silent, waiting for him to pay. “Give me some cigarettes too” he said, his voice raspy. Again, you stared at him. “What brand, sir” your tone was dry, almost annoyed. “Doesn’t matter”, and you turned around to grab the closest box of cigarettes before scanning them in too. He held up a black card between two of his fingers, and you waited for the confirming beep of the card device. As the sound rang in your ears, you sat back down onto the little stool behind the counter, picking up your book once more. Michael gathered the items in his hands, before walking out in silence, causing the door chimes to ring once more.

Back outside, his eyes relaxed immediately, not needing to strain against the harsh lights anymore. He placed the bottle onto the ground next to him, before unwrapping the pack of cigarettes. He was about to take one out, before realizing he doesn’t even have a lighter. A sigh left his mouth, but he didn’t move, he just stood outside and breathed in the fresh air. Minutes passed before the door opened next to him. You came out, a cigarette between your lips as you were pulling a hoodie jacket over your body. You didn’t even acknowledge his presence, protecting the flame with your hand as you lit the cigarette. Michael glanced at your face, and he couldn’t help but notice how young you looked, leaving him wondering whether you were even old enough to smoke. It wasn’t until a few puffs later, that you noticed him still standing near you, fiddling with the packet. You reached into your pocket and fished out the lighter, before stretching it out to him. His look fell onto your face first, before gliding down to the object in your hand, and he took it from you without a word.

He stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it. As the smoke filled his lungs with a burning sensation, he couldn’t stop the small cough coming from him. You gave him a side glance, before retrieving your lighter from his stretched out fingers. The two of you smoked next to each other in silence, a neon sign flickering above you with a humming sound. You flicked the cigarette butt onto the empty roads, watching it spark once against the concrete before you turned and disappeared back into the shop.

Michael didn’t even finish the cigarette, before mimicking your gesture. He leaned down to gather the water bottle, and he took one last glance into the shop before making his way back to the hotel.

The next night, he found himself seeking out the convenience store at 3AM again. Same attire, the only thing different was the color of his pajamas. The streets were mostly empty, besides a drunken couple making out in the corner of the street. Michael lowered his cap, before walking over to the shop. As he pushed open the door, he was met with your sight, leaning against the counter while lazily flipping through a magazine you hadn’t bought. The shop was filled with the smell of burnt filter coffee, surrounding Michael as he wandered through the aisles. This time, he placed a pack of Big Red gum in front of you. You raised your eyes at him, unsurprised. You scanned the pack, and turned to grab a box of cigarettes behind you. “Not tonight” Michael said quietly, stilling your fingers on the shelf. You turned around once more, waiting for him to pay with his card. The magazine had your attention once more as you heard the beep. He looked at the cover once, smiling to himself as he walked out. You were reading the new edition of Popstar. Ironic, he thought.

And even two nights later, again, he went outside to rummage around the shop. The only thing different was the rain softly falling down. This time, you were sitting on a stool, a paper cup filled with steaming coffee in your hands. The soft noise of the TV hanging from the wall filled the shop, and he followed your gaze to it before walking along the familiar aisles. The humming of the refrigerated shelves filled his ears as he grabbed a ham sandwich. He walked over to the counter, and placed it there, following the ridiculous scene on the screen as you were scanning his purchase. He paid by card and before he left, his eyes fell onto your name tag. ‘Y/n’. As he was flipping through the channels in his hotel suite, taking a generous bite out of the sandwich, he found himself stuck on the same program as you.

Several nights had passed like that, not being able to fall asleep on most of them and finding himself walking around the small shop. It had become his routine without him realizing. But that one night was going to be different.

Upon entering the shop, the atmosphere was different immediately. MTV blasting an upbeat pop song from the TV, and as his eyes fell to the counter behind his shades, you weren’t there.

“Good evening, sir!” a way too cheerful voice greeted him, his head moving into the direction only to spot a smiling guy. Your coworker observed Michael, who just stood there in irritation. “How are we doin’ tonight? Can I help you find something?”. Michael tilted his head, just staring. “Where is Y/n?” he asked, confusion crossed the employee’s face. “Day off” he said. And suddenly, Michael’s mood changed. He no longer wanted to be in the store and just turned to exit, leaving your coworker highly irritated. The TV stayed off that night, and the suite seemed even emptier than before. The cheerful voice being stuck in his head longer than he wanted it to, leaving him slightly annoyed on top of being overtired.

The following night, he dared to visit again. Dreading the sight of your coworker a little, but as he saw you standing behind the counter, stacking up the cigarette packs, he walked around the shop in calmness. This time, it was a box of orange juice that he placed on the counter. You turned around, scanning the juice and expecting him to pay and leave, but as the beeping sound appeared he didn’t move. “How long you got left?” he asked, causing your brows to flinch for a second. He was chewing gum, and you looked back at the clock hanging on the wall. “Twenty minutes” you said, before turning back to your task. He nodded, grabbed the juice box and left.

Finally, a coworker came to let you get off this terribly boring shift. You were quick to clock out, throw over your hoodie and take your bag before rushing out the door. “Have a great shift” you mumbled, the door chimes ringing behind you as you left. You finally felt less like suffocating, taking a deep breath before looking around. And that’s when you spotted him, leaning against a stone wall while sipping on the orange juice. You froze for a moment. Did he actually wait for you? You hesitated, before slowly walking toward him. “You know, most people leave after they are done shopping”. His brows raised upon hearing your voice. Only a second later did he give you a small grin. “Do they?”. You nodded, sticking a cigarette between your lips and offering him one. “I don’t actually smoke” he said. You took the first inhale, blowing the smoke into his direction slowly. “I figured so”. Silence surrounded you, the only noise coming from distant traffic as you continued dragging on the cigarette. Michael watched you behind his shades, as your eyes drifted through the streets lazily. “Would you mind giving me some company?”. You gave him a look, inhaling the smoke into your lungs deeply as you thought about it. What kind of company? He might be the strangest customer you had in a while, but you couldn’t help to feel a bit curious too. You let the cigarette fall to the ground, stomping it with your feet before nodding. “Alright”.

Michael flashed you a sly grin, before walking first, totally expecting you to follow him. And strangely so, you did. You had always observed the hotel from outside while working, but had never actually been inside. You could immediately tell, it was luxurious. The hallways glowed dimly and the only sound echoing through them was the soft thud of your shoes against the carpet. The ride in the elevator was silent. Michael took out a pack of Big Red gum, sliding a strip into his mouth before offering it to you. You just shook your head in refusal and he hid it away in his pocket. His room was on the top floor, but soon enough you realized it wasn’t just a room. It was a whole suite. Michael opened the door, chewing gum, and held it open for you to enter first. The smile on his face annoyed you, but you walked through the doorway anyways. The only light illuminating the space were the faint street lights from outside. The door shut behind you with a soft click, drowning you in even more darkness, before the light was switched on. The suite was quiet. Not the comforting silence of the convenience store, but a different kind. Expensive furniture filled the spacious living room beyond the entryway, every surface spotless, every object perfectly in place. Through the enormous windows, the city glowed far below, making the room somehow feel even emptier.

Michael took off his cap and shades, tossing them onto the nearest surface, before walking to stand in front of you. For the first time, his round eyes stared back into yours, without the shades hiding them. He smiled. “You do know who I am, right?”. You raised an eyebrow at him, beginning to slide off your jacket. “Yea” you said, not even looking at him, solely focused on undressing, “I recognized you a while ago”. And if Michael was being honest, your answer and reaction surprised him a little, but he just kept smiling at you. “Well,” his feet moved further into the dark living room, away from you “make yourself comfortable, doll”.

Your eyes burned into his back as you followed him. “Don’t call me that” you protested, irritation visible on your face. Michael relaxed into the big sofa, legs spread and hands comfortably resting in his lap. His layered hair looked messy, from tossing and turning in the bed and wearing the cap. “Why not, doll?” he grinned. You stared at him in disbelief, still keeping your distance while standing. “Because I’m not”.

Michael breathed out a laugh at your words, “Could’ve had me fooled”. You almost couldn’t believe how quickly he changed from being the strange, silent customer to this. Annoying.

“Sit down, get comfortable Y/n” he said, looking over to the empty space beside him. Your eyes widened slightly, confused. “How do you know my name?” you said, sitting down on the other end of the couch. Michael gave you an amused look, before pointing toward your chest. You hadn’t even realized you were still wearing the vest with your name tag on it and were quick to take it off, leaving you in a tight, black t-shirt. Michael’s eyes drifted over your figure briefly, watching your hair fall down your shoulders as you released them from the clip that was buried there for way too long. You massaged at your scalp with closed eyes, not aware of his stare. “You know I don’t bite, right?” he smiled at you in amusement, “come closer”. Your hands fell from your hair and you tilted your head slightly. “I’m comfortable over here Mr. Jackson” and he saw you smile for the first time. Not a nice smile, more like a sarcastic one. Michael laughed. “Mister?”.

You leaned back into the cushions. “Yea, aren’t you like forty-five? I’m respectful toward elders”. His laugh increased, “I’m not forty-five, doll”. You shrugged, “Then?”.

“Forty, and I don’t ever want to hear you refer to me as Mister again”.

A small huff escaped your lips, and you raised your feet up on the sofa, hugging your legs. “Close enough” you said and he glanced at you from the side before slightly angling his body to you. “Are you even old enough to be smoking?” he pointed a lazy finger at you, the annoying grin back on his face. “Who are you, my dad? I’m old enough” you smiled, slowly getting more and more amused by this strange exchange. Michael seemed to think for a second, his fingers rubbing along his chin. “Not your dad, but I could be your daddy”. You gasped in surprise, before laughing. You couldn’t really take this man serious. This was really the Michael Jackson? Sitting there with messy hair and a ridiculous outfit, all confident in seducing you. “Okay that’s enough” you laughed, shaking your head slightly. A moment of silence followed, and your eyes drifted around the room. “You hungry?” he asked, ripping you from your thoughts. “Kind of, yea” you shrugged. You observed him as he leaned over to grab the hotel telephone, pressing the receiver to his ear while still chewing on his gum. Even though he was annoying, and his appearance a bit ridiculous, you couldn’t deny his presence being attractive.

“Yea, I would like to have…” you sat in silence as he kept listing up the things he wanted them to bring up. At some point it was getting ridiculous, the list didn’t end and you just watched him with wide eyes. He put the phone back to its original place, before turning his head toward you. “Can you hold it for another fifteen minutes? If not I will tell them to hurry”. You raised your brows, “I’m good,” you said “but, you do realize we’re only two people right?”. Michael laughed, not giving you an answer to the question. He was very well aware, but simply couldn’t bother to choose one thing from the menu. “So…” you started, pulling away a lint from your jeans “why did you ask me for company?”. He shrugged, “Who else is there to ask for at 3AM?”. You scoffed, “You’re Michael Jackson”.

He looked a little irritated. “That’s the problem” he laughed, “why do you think I walk around with sunglasses at night?”. You laughed, “Because you’re weird”. He stared at you for a second. “Are you insulting me now, doll? What was that about respect earlier?”.

You rolled your eyes. “First of all, choose. Either I treat you like a guy my age, or you get respected as an elder. You can’t have both” you said and watched him shake his head. “And then, think about it. I usually have no customers at this time, and suddenly you come in every night, same time, same outfit, buying the most random stuff. That’s incredibly weird”.

Michael clutched a hand over his chest, faking being offended. “What do you mean same outfit, I have been wearing my most luxurious sleep wear I own”.

His words only fed into your statement and you found yourself smiling.

“Don’t you ever sleep?”. Michael shrugged, shifting slightly closer, “I try to”.

“What do you mean try?”. He moved to take off the blazer, only now realizing he was still wearing it. “I didn’t sleep for three days now”. Your head jerked to him, brows furrowed. “You’re lying”. He shook his head with a smile. “That is actually insane…”. Before you were able to say more, there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” Michael yelled across the room, and as the door opened the smell of all different kinds of food filled the space. You watched as the hotel clerks, dressed elegantly, were rolling three different trays inside the room, all stacked with food. You felt uncomfortable watching them set out everything on the marbled-topped coffee table, about to stand up and help, but Michael’s arm was quick to stop you. He didn’t touch you, just stretched it out in front of your body, his palm facing your way. You gave him a look, but he only shook his head once. As they were done setting the steaming plates and cold glasses out, your eyes almost fell out of their sockets. Who should eat all of this?

“Pedro” Michael called out to one of the clerks, raising his fingers and motioning him to come closer. You watched as he fished his wallet from the blazer that had been discarded onto the floor. He took out three 100 dollar bills, rolled them together and snuck them into the clerks pocket. “Split it evenly” he smiled. Pedro returned the smile, nodding once. “Thank you Mr. Jackson”. And with that, they started rolling the trays out of the suite and disappeared with them. “Dig in, doll” he said, inching closer to the table, “you must be real hungry after working all night” he winked at you, before taking the first bite of a pizza slice. You hesitated, staring at him for another moment before sliding down the couch and getting comfortable on the carpet. It was a habit of yours, you ate dinner like that all the time in front of your coffee table, watching TV. Michael’s eyes followed you, and he found himself smiling at your behavior. “There you go, getting comfortable”. You ignored his words, and scanned the different options, unable to decide. You pressed the fork against your lips in thought, but were ripped out of it as Michael held a soft taco in front of your nose. You looked up to him, a little confused. “Take a bite, it’s good”. You didn’t know why, but just followed his order. The flavors exploding in your mouth as you let him feed you. “Oh…” you sighed, “that is really good”. Michael smiled cockily, before raising the taco to his own mouth and taking a bite. Your hand reached out for another one, hunger catching up to you. “Mh, so,” you started, swallowing down the bite you just took, “you’re Michael Jackson, and you roam around a tiny convenience store when you can’t sleep? Why don’t you party or, invite over some pretty girls and have fun?” while your question was a little teasing, you were genuinely curious. Michael laughed, throwing his head back a little. “You’re already sitting here with me doll, aren’t you?” he said, his voice raspy.

There he goes again, you thought, slightly lowering the taco in your hand. “That wasn’t my question” you mumbled in annoyance. “Wasn’t it? You asked why I don’t invite pretty girls, but I did”. That damn smile again, flashing his white teeth. “I’m actually gonna throw up” you looked at him with disbelief, “you’re like 18 years older than me”. This time, Michael was the one rolling his eyes. “Don’t act like that’s an actual problem to you doll, you followed me here voluntarily”. You didn’t say anything to that, you couldn’t. Instead you just kept eating your food. Your eyes found the TV, and you felt the sudden urge to turn it on. “You got a remote for that?” and Michael didn’t answer, instead he just stretched it out to you. You took it and were quick to switch it on, drowning the room with noise. “Have you got pay TV?” you asked, before flipping through the channels. He chuckled softly. “What d’you think?”. And he was right, you could answer that yourself by just looking around you. “Sorry, I forgot you’re famous for a second with your silly behavior”. Michael laughed loudly, relaxing back into the cushions further. “Silly?” he asked, raising a brow at your back. But you ignored him, instead you reached for the bottle of white wine that lay in a bucket of ice, eyes fixed on the screen. You poured yourself a glass, before searching your bag for cigarettes. “Mind if I do?” you asked him, holding up the pack for him to see. He shook his head and you stuck one between your lips, taking a deep drag while sipping wine. He smiled at you, before sliding down to the carpet and sitting right next to you. His arms propped up on his knees as his eyes observed you lazily. “You’re a unique little thing” he murmured, causing you to look at him. “Heard that before” you shrugged, keeping his eye contact. He didn’t break it, just stared back at you with his round eyes, running his tongue over his lips once. You averted your eyes back to the screen, blowing out a cloud of smoke. A smirk pulled on his lips and his stare lingered for another second before reaching for the plate with chocolate cake. You glanced at him from time to time, sipping on your glass of wine. But as he got some frosting on his finger, and licked it off, you couldn’t help but stare from the corner of your eye. A slight tingle ran over your skin. You were surprised he hadn’t initiated anything physical the whole night. If you were being honest, that’s what you expected him to do. What else would Michael Jackson want from a random girl working in a corner shop in the middle of the night? He stayed oblivious to your stare, his eyes fixed on the screen. But you couldn’t stop staring, slightly tilting your head to him now. And suddenly you took him in much differently than before. His prominent jaw and chin, the way his tongue slightly grazed the bottom of the fork while shoving more cake inside his mouth, his disheveled black hair that got your mind drifting to other ways it could become messy. You were a little surprised as he stared back at you, a smile spreading on his face.

“Enjoy the view, doll?”. You held his gaze for a second longer than necessary before taking a sip from your wine. "Your ego is unbelievable”. He chuckled darkly, licking the remains of chocolate from the fork before leaning closer to you, his mouth close to your ear and his breath hot on it. “Keep denying yourself little girl,” he whispered “but I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of what’s playing in the back of your mind”. You wet your bottom lip before slightly biting down on it, his breath against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes didn’t leave the screen, and you felt relieved as he backed up again, his stare burning on you. Moments passed, and as you dared to look at him once more, he was still staring back at you. “Oh shut up” you sighed, pouring yourself more of the white wine. Amusement crossed his face, “I didn’t speak, doll”. The TV kept playing, being the only thing that broke the silence between you. Half full plates remained on the table, leaving the room a mess. Your glass was almost empty as you realized how tired you had actually become, and as you looked out the windows the sun was already beginning to rise.