So, just when I've disproved the whole website thing, this is happening. (Source)
I went to waybackmachine to try and pinpoint how long his name has been on that site. Now there's not a lot of snapshots made of that website, the closest one was from January 2021. Michael's name wasn't on there then. So it seems that this is at least a recent development. From what I quickly gathered about the other artists under that management is that they're mostly electronic/dance related. So maybe it has something to do with his dj-ing.
I am still not convinced that website is his, but I am keeping my eyes open for sure now.
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Based off the song Heart by Fly By Midnight (shocker, huh? lol)
Word count: 737. she’s small but she’s lovely
Masterlist
Enjoy! :)
• • • •
Michael’s wrapped up in his music, the bass is shaking his entire body, the lights are electrifying his energy. The crowd goes nuts when he makes the beat drop into the next song and when he looks up, he sees you. His heart stops.Â
Through the neon lights and laser beams he meets your eyes and he’s brought back to that night he spent with you.Â
Clothes off by the nightstand and his lips were hot on your skin while his fingers teased and played with you in the way you like. He pushes you down to the bed, it’s all in slow motion and through a haze from the red scarf placed on the lampshade.
Your body is cloaked in a burning red, it leaves his mouth burning for more as he descends lower and lower. You open up for him all too willingly and he takes what you’ll give him.
He loves the way his name spills from your lips. He wants to put your moans into a song and play it on repeat. When he crawls back up your body, your nails dig into his back creating their own blood red mark.Â
Michael groans and pulses his hips against yours, mimicking the rhythm of your heart.
“I can hear your heart,” he moans as he rolls into you. You take him so well and not only is he seeing red, he’s tasting it on your lips. Tastes like cherries.Â
The next day is spent in bed below the duvet. He orders room service and in between meals he finds himself between your legs again. It was the start of a tumultuous relationship, where he was just starting out as a DJ and you were in love with him and his dreams.Â
He played at dive bars with you watching happily from the crowd. More often than not he’d be asked never to return again because the night would end with his fists flying. He’d walk away with a bloody lip but your honor was left intact.Â
He’d see men getting too close to you, and Michael would see red again as he jumped from his place behind the turntables and mixing board. Loving Michael was a wild ride that you were more than happy to be a passenger of.Â
It all began to change once he started getting noticed more. He got more gigs. Record labels were beginning to see his name and fought over him. His image remained but his timing got lost with you.Â
Traveling became the wedge between you both and inevitably, you lost your fatal love to the LA hussle.Â
Your eyes don’t stray from his as Michael hands his headphones to his featured singer of the night. A woman named Meilani who knew of your relationship with Michael. They became fast friends, confidants who bonded over broken hearts and music.Â
Your friends had told you that they’d heard through the grapevine Michael and Meilani were together, hooking up all the time. You didn’t want to believe it so you went to his show at the club near your hometown to see for yourself.Â
Seeing him made every memory come rushing back. It almost gave you whiplash. You thought you were over him, over the love, over the heartbreak. But seeing his eyes made that all disappear.Â
Michael pushes through the crowd to you, he ignores the fans reaching for him and pulling on his shirt. His sole focus is on you and you alone.Â
Once he’s finally in front of you it’s like the loud music disappears. All you hear is the beating of your own heart, the pulsing rush of his when he grabs your hand. You’re being pulled through the crowd all the way to the back behind his set. The lights flicker in and out and you see his face in an electric blue and then a golden yellow.
Then you’re kissing, arms linking behind his neck while his grasp at your hips. You’re pushed against a wall, then he’s pushed against a wall. Both of you wanting to be in control, both of you getting lost in each other just like that first night.Â
Bodies pressed together, not an inch of you wasn’t touching his, breath mixed together and your hearts holding their own conversation.Â
“I can hear your heart,” you tell him.
He brushes your hair from your face. “Yours is in every song.”
