#laylatalks

Part one. 

Old friends.

The rise of thriller was more than Michael Jackson had anticipated. One night while recording an idea of a song for a future album. The cameras flashed as people screamed his name. 

“Michael Michael Michael Michael!” Some voices were louder than others. Bill led him through the crowd protecting him in a fatherly and secure manner. Michael felt it before he saw it or them. Cold fingers wrapped around his upper arm. The grip was frightening as Michael tried to jerk away it was no use. When the something or someone made him separate from Bill made Michael fight harder. 

Michael couldn’t make out the figure but the person had a borderline box build, they were clothed in a moon soaked navy blue hoodie cover the fact with shadows. A flicker of moonlight makes the small flash of steel in the fingers other hand more visible. 

Fear crept into Michael, his throat went dry and he fought and fought but the person led him deeper into the crowd. Michael could hardly hear his name being called by Bill or by anyone really. The crowd still thought he was there just hiding. Clearly to his security he was taken. 

The person was much much too tall for Michael to create a diversion and run, the figure could catch him instantly with his long legs. 

“JOKER! JOKER!” Bill’s voice was muffled as he torn through the crowd. “MICHAEL!” He shouts. The figure smirks to himself leading Michael to a white van. 

“Get in” the voice had a good rasp to it with a low pitch and obviously the figure was a man. Michael didn’t move not at first he just stood. 

“If you want money I got plenty-”

“We don’t want y’filthy money” a deeper more southern voice shouts from a side of the van. “Get in” the raspy one demands. 

Michael felt sweaty. He felt scared. He was scared, he was a deer being caged in by wolves, hungry dangerous wolves. 

“Please” his voice cracked. A gunshot rung through the air. It was Bill and his other security. The man ran into the back of the van and close the door and yelled 

“HIT IT!” This time the raspy was gone it dispersed into a more feminine tone.  The southern held on to the side door of the front hut fell as the van still sped down the street. Bill mutter something to his team and then proceeded to help Michael who was relieved but horrified. 

Five days later. 

The hospital room was loud. But the silence was loud cutting sharply in your mind. 

“Is Mr Daniels h-“ the nurse cut you off knowing what your were going to say, “It’s only been an hour, let him rest” she said, crossin an arm around her clipboard, “I suggest you go home” she gave you a dry look as you gave her one in return. 

“Ok then” you pressed your lips into a forced smiled, “have an wonderful night” you turn on your heal and walked to go get your bag without losing your mind when you heard her say “oh I will” what a- nope nope you promise you wouldn’t. When you shuffled through your bag you didn’t notice a man behind you.  And when you did you almost flip him over. 

“oh, Bill” you said shocked at your Dad’s old friend being here, “Did Dad call..? He’s in the resting area at the-”

“No no…is He okay, oh gosh I heard he was here and I need his help” Bill gives a nod of his head to his side where THE frickin Michael Jackson. He was signing an autograph for the stupid nurse which who was drooling over him like a dog to meat. 

“Is that your newest client?” You ask wide eyed. He chuckles,“ Yeah, Joker over there has himself a stalker” he brings his voice low. 

“Oh gosh” you can hardly remember the last time you had a client with a stalker. Michael notices you and Bill watching him and gives a wave and a soft smile. Sunglasses rests in his nose as he’s in a red hoodie and a pair of blue jeans. Classic. 

“You want my Dad’s help I’m guessin” you smile, your dad was not only a criminal profiler  but also works undercover untill his sickness hit him hard, by then you took most of his more serious and dangerous jobs. Training you since your mother lost custody over you so around the age of five to well now at twenty-three you’ve inherited your dad’s intelligence to track down certain people, and spot people’s characteristics. 

“I can see if the nurse will let you in she’s being a bit of an idiot at the moment” you sigh, giving a look to the nurse which made Bill chuckle. 

“I have my ways to get in” He says. After a one conversation with the nurse and Michael, She let Bill in like she didn’t just tell you all day you can’t see your dad.  Your task at the moment was keeping Michael away from drawin a crowd. 

“…”

“So…” he makes the silence a bit more awkward. “You listen to music?” Of course he asks that. 

“I do” He lit up, “what kind?” He ask in his soft voice looking up at you with his doe eyes. 

“I really like rock but more 70s style rock” you state keeping your eyes glued to the nurse condoling over him. 

“That’s cool, rocks cool and fun” you almost smiled at his boyish demeanor. 

“Yeah” the since came back. Nurse and doctors paced up and down each of the halls and Michael who desperately tried to make a conversation was about to bust with boredom he was singin to himself. 

“You might not want to do that here” he gave you a look. 

“Why?” The silence cut deep as you didn’t respond. He took it as a warning from that look on your face. Obviously Michael knew how people liked your worked soft of. Always on high alert, carefully worded, sharp and has the best poker face as a mask. And every darn time you out the mask into place he would stare. Not because he was curious which he was but because he didn’t think something so pretty could look so threatening at the same time. 

The minutes blend into hours and around midnight Bill came rushing down.