#shamone

July nights were particularly hot in Southern California.

You could hear the faint chirp of crickets from outside your bedroom window, the small bugs finally coming alive without the burden of the blazing sun.

So far the summer had been isolating. Your days were filled with neighborhood walks and dips in the pool, and while those activities were nice, you longed for your best friend to do them with.

Lying in bed, you kicked your feet up onto your wall. The small pair of sleep shorts you were wearing slid up your upper thigh, exposing the skin to the small tufts of air emitted from small fan in your room. Your mind was in a heat-induced haze, but one thought rang clear and true.

Michael.

Upon his move from Indiana to California a couple of years prior, the two of you grew close due to your closeness in age and love for swimming and water sports. But he was constantly traveling with his brothers around the country, so the days you saw him were few and far between.

But, summer was a time where things usually slowed down for them.

Longer stretches between gigs.

Time for relaxation carved out of their rehearsal schedules.

There was time for friends during the summer, time for you.

In the privacy of your bedroom, you recalled those special days where you and Michael would enjoy the weather and each other's company from dawn till dusk. Scenes of heated board game competitions, speedy races in the Jackson’s pool, and movie marathons played in your mind.

You groaned.

Ever since the summer break started and you had returned to your California home, you had been waiting around for him to have some free time like some obedient dog.

You called the Jackson home a couple of times early in June to see if Michael was home, only to be met by the voice of an apologetic housemaid who claimed that the boys were busy rehearsing for their upcoming tour. You brushed it off then, you were used to Michael’s demanding schedule. He frequently missed planned hang outs and failed to return your calls due to rehearsals running late. But after over a month of radio silence, you couldn’t help but feel forgotten. And even worse, you couldn’t help but feel needy and pathetic.

Making your way across your bedroom, you took your personal phone book into your hands and scrolled the pages.

Surely there was someone else to spend time with.

—————

A few houses away, Michael Jackson stared at himself in a floor-length mirror in Hayvenhurst's rehearsal studio. Beads of sweat were dripping down his face as he watched his brothers take a break by the front of the room. He wiped his face with his sleeve before joining them.

“I think we’ve just got to tighten up that last section and then we’re good.” He told his brothers.

Upon saying it out loud, his brothers erupted in groans.

“Oh come on, Mike! It’s nearly eleven and we’ve been at this all day!” Randy complained.

“Yeah Mike, let’s call it a day.” Marlon laughed. The brothers stood up again, ready to disband.

“Ten more minutes, guys! I swear we’ve almost got it perfect.” Michael said eagerly.

“No! I won’t be stuck in this room with you all summer.” Tito said hotly. “Don’t you got a life outside of this?”

“Yeah, let’s go watch a movie or something, man. Call it a night.” Jermaine said while patting Michael on the shoulder.

Michael smoothed a hand over his damp curls, consulting their words. “No, no, no movies, guys. Come on, let’s focus.”

“Fine, have fun in here by yourself.” Tito said as he excited the room, Marlon and Randy following behind him.

“No, guys!” Michael called out to get their attention, but the three had already left.

“Mike, it’s no good for you to be working yourself like this. Go call up a friend and make some plans.” Jermaine said.

“I don’t ha-“ Michael stopped himself as his brothers watched on. “I just wanna work on this for a little longer.”

“What about [name]? Why don’t you call her? You two used to be thick as thieves.” Jackie said as he started to collect his things.

At the mention of your name Michael froze. He had meant to call you at the start of the summer but you were pushed out of his mind by the preparations for the upcoming tour. Now, he just felt guilty for inadvertently ignoring you. He wasn’t sure if he could just approach you like old times after he blew you off.

At his silence, Jackie perked up. “Uh oh, trouble with the missus?”

“She’s not my missus.” Michael stated defensively.

“Well she ain’t gonna be if you spend your whole summer in here! Call her. Come on, Jermaine.”

As the two older boys left the room, Michael resumed looking at himself in the mirror.

Lately, he’d been having trouble recognizing himself. He had been starting to see himself the way that they did- the fans, the media, all of it.

The pressure to become a greater version of himself overcrowded his thoughts, making it impossible for him to simply be. Whenever he tried to get lost in simple pleasures, his mind wandered back to the work ethic Joseph had bullied into him. Whenever he tried to get along with people his own age, he felt like a poser.

But there had been a time when it had all felt simpler.

A time where pleasure wasn’t about the rush of adrenaline at a sold out show or the rare praise he received from his father after another career milestone. A time where singing and dancing felt like a privilege instead of labor.

Allowing his mind to wander, Michael kept his hand hovering over the play button on the sound system, and he thought about a brighter time- summers past.

Cerulean ribbons of water circled your frames, shielding you both from the brazen sun. It was the summer the both of you turned eighteen- days that symbolized a shy start to the beginning of your adult lives. A milestone, a turning point.

But for now, it was just a summer day, and for now you were simply teenagers.

Michael’s hand found a lock of your hand submerged under the water and let it fall into his palm. He enjoyed the way it flexed and billowed in the pool, an image so simple but still so strikingly beautiful.

“What are you doing back there?” Your playful voice sounded from just a few inches away after feeling a tugging sensation on your head.

Michael, still shy in your comforting presence, immediately went to drop the lock of hair and swam to face you. “Me? Nothing, I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Yeah? Then what was in my hair?” You questioned daringly.

Michael shrugged, suppressing a sly expression.

“You are a terrible liar, Michael.” You said playfully as you swam away.

Michael dropped his hand from the sound system before immediately bringing it up to his face.

He felt tired. The type of tiredness that settles into your bones.

His senses felt clouded by his overwhelming thoughts and overworked body. Finally conceding, he lowered himself onto the floor and rested for a moment.

And as his mind went back to old memories and he felt that familiar pang in his chest, his body betrayed him and he quickly fell asleep.

—————

When Michael awoke the next morning it wasn’t to the sound of morning birds chirping, or a result of the awakening sun flashing over his eyes.

It was to the sound of his younger sister's screaming voice.

“I found him!” Janet yelled out to the others circling the property.

Michael sat up immediately and blinked away the sleep from his eyes. The lights in the studio were still on and the small blinking light of the sound system chirped from the corner.

He had fallen asleep in the rehearsal space.

Before he could move to stand, Katherine and Jackie shuffled into the room with concern ebbed onto their faces.

“Michael! What are you doing here so early? It almost gave me a heart attack when I saw your bed empty!” Katherine said loudly.

“Oh my, what time is it?” Michael asked.

Jackie quickly checked his watch before responding. “It’s nearly noon, Michael! What, were you in here all night?”

“I must have just fallen asleep. I’m sorry.” Michael said meekly. He quickly got to his feet and turned the sound system completely off.

“This is not okay, Michael. You can’t be working yourself like this.” Katherine pleaded.

“Mother, I’m fine. I just fell asleep.”

“No, no, I won’t hear of this.” Katherine dismissed whilst pacing the room. “Locking yourself in here for these long hours- I barely get to see my son anymore!”

“What’s the big deal? You got five others!” Michael quipped back.

“You-“ Katherine began.

“Come on, Mike. You’re the only one that actually likes watching those horrendous old movies with her. Don’t stick that on us!” Jackie whined.

“I want you out of this room. Now, Michael. Go wash up and make some other plans for the day, cause you ain’t spending another beautiful day locked up inside.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Michael asked earnestly.

“That’s for you to figure out, Michael. Go do something with your sister. Janice?” Katherine called out to the young girl.

Janice emitted a low groan at the suggestion. “Aw, come on Mother, don't make me hang out with him.”

“Fine. Jackie?” Katherine called out.

“I wish I could, Ma. But, Leslie’s coming over today and I don’t want any little brother of mine hanging around.”

Katherine groaned. “All of you out!” She yelled as she ushered the group out of the rehearsal studio. Janice disappeared immediately towards the gardens while Jackie jogged over to the main house.

“Don’t waste God’s beautiful day, Mikey.” Katherine said simply before tapping Michael’s chin and following Janice to the gardens.

—————

Going out for a late breakfast with your favorite cousin, Amaya, was the perfect cure for your loneliness. The two of you giggled over shared plates of french toast and mugs of coffee that got progressively more cold the more intense the conversations got. You left the restaurant feeling bright and fresh, like the summer still had the potential to be interesting.

You had arrived back in Encino around one in the afternoon. After peeling off your handbag and a few accessories, you settled onto the loveseat in your bedroom and picked up a magazine that was recently delivered. In your good mood, you even clicked on your radio and tuned it to your favorite channel.

It was then that your good mood came crashing down.

From your lap, a photograph of none other than Michael Jackson was staring up at you.

In the photo, Michael was beaming. There was a slight glow to his handsome, blushing face, which was thrown back in a fit of laughter.

You paused, slightly smiling at the photo. Until your eyes fell onto the thin girl that was clinging onto your friends left arm- Ms. Diana Ross.

And if that wasn’t torturous enough, the large headline read:

JACKSON AND ROSS IN GREAT SPIRITS AT LOS ANGELES GALA

Your heart stuttered as your eyes went wild looking back and forth at the pair’s beautiful faces. The two of them had made headlines before, with their curious friendship and never ending rumors of scandalous encounters. But as you sat there in your bedroom, you couldn’t help but feel hurt and blindsided by this particular article.

No wonder Michael hasn’t returned my calls.

He has other, more glamorous friends.

You longed for the companionship of your boyish best friend, but perhaps that just wasn’t who he was anymore. Maybe you were longing for something that no longer existed.

In worsened spirits, you moved to click off the radio as the opening notes of Blame it on the Boogie started to fill the room.

—————

Despite his mother’s orders, Michael didn’t do much that day. He more so just wandered around Hayvenhurst, peeking into rooms, not staying anywhere for too long. He skipped lunch. He was planning on skipping dinner.

Fortunately, the entire Jackson family had plans for the evening. Katherine took the girls to visit her younger sister, Hattie Mae. Jackie, Jermaine, and Tito had gone out for the night under the premise of ‘finding a new muse’, or more so finding a new fling. And Randy had borrowed Bill to take him to a baseball game.

Although he would never say it, Michael was relieved that his family was gone. Or more so, that he wouldn’t be restricted by his family’s unwavering supervision and pitiful looks at his lonesomeness. Sure he felt a little lonely, isolated by his lack of true friends and confidants, but not anymore than he usually felt.

You had been a good friend to him. Truly.

But he was too scared to approach you for the same reason you were too scared to approach him- he didn’t know if that was what you wanted. Also, he simply didn’t know how.

“Rebbie made some lemonade if you’re thirsty.” You said as you walked over to Michael, who was preoccupied with the hydrangeas that were just planted by the gardeners. At your arrival, Michael lazily looked up at you and watched as you sipped from a tall glass of the aforementioned drink. A small drop of condensation from the glass dripped onto your finger and danced down your skin. Michael traced it with his eye as it descended from your palm, to your wrist, to the meat of your arm.

“Don’t you want some?” You asked him. Michael didn’t respond with many words, instead humming a quiet ‘no’ before turning his attention back to the flowers. You sat down next to him on the brick pathway and moved to pick a stray leaf off of his neck.

At the sudden contact, Michael’s body seized up and he placed a protective hand over his head. His expression, once dazed and lost in thought, quickly transformed into one of anxiety.

You were truly startled by his sudden motion. And as you watched him now, contorted away from you, a feeling of sadness emerged from your heart. Your eyes traced over his form carefully, which was as still as the tall tree shading the two of you.

A pit formed in your stomach. His prior movement had allowed his shirt to ride up, exposing the faint blooming of purple skin on his lower stomach to your eyes.

When he snapped out of his daydream, Michael saw that his hand was quivering. And before he could give it another thought, he headed upstairs to his bedroom.

—————

Similarly to the previous night, you were lying on your bed with your legs kicked up onto the wall.

You had spent the rest of the day going through things in your room, finding small tokens and keepsakes you previously thought had been lost. Your new revelation about Michael’s fame triggered a downwards spiral about your own future. You felt stagnant in your own life, unlike Michael’s rising stardom.

Then, the phone rang from your nightstand.

Preserving your position, you twisted your upper body strenuously to reach the phone. The bed creaked under you with the movement.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as your fingers grasped the device and you brought it up to your ear.

“Hello?” You muttered lazily into the phone.

You could hear someone breathing on the other end of the call. After a moment of silence you spoke again.

“Hello?”

The next thing you heard was the sound of the dial tone. The person who called had abruptly hung up on you.

“Cool.” You said under your breath before twisting to place the phone back on the hook.

The silence engulfed you once more.

“What’s all this?” You asked Michael curiously upon entering his bedroom. After closing the door behind the two of you, he turned to face where you were idly standing.

“Oh,” he chuckled, “-that.” A faint blush crept onto his face as you started to circle around the piles of mail he had received from fans recently. The piles were scattered around his bedroom floor, creating a sort of labyrinth in the once familiar environment. He joined you where you had taken a seat next to a particularly large stack.

“I mean, I know you got fan mail occasionally, but this?” You paused, motioning around the room, “This is just wild, Mike.” You took an envelope and turned it over in your hands.

“May I?” You asked coyly.

Michael smiled back at you. “Go ahead, girl. Just don’t get it mixed up in the pile, I’m trying to respond to as many as I can.”

With his permission, your fingers worked quickly to get to the letter. When you unfolded the piece of paper, a small deck of Polaroids tumbled out and hit the carpet. Naturally, you moved to pick them up.

However, upon seeing the small deck his mind went back to the last deck of Polaroids he had received- pictures of strange women in suggestive clothing, captured in multiple positions and angles. Protectively, Michael rushed to collect them, immediately hiding them in his large hands.

“What?” You mused. “I wanna see.”

You moved to take them from his hand but he kept a firm, protective grip on them- shielding them from your vision.

Noticing how his expression faltered at your persistence, you backed off and returned to the letter. “Whatever, Michael.”

Michael watched as your attention turned back to the scrap of paper. And when he knew it was safe, he allowed himself to check out the photos.

The first one was an image of a newborn baby, all swaddled up in what looked to be a hospital.

The second photo was another image of the baby, only now he was placed on a young woman’s chest. A man close in age to the woman was crouched awkwardly in the photo with a look in his eyes that could only be described as clear adoration and bliss.

“Oh, Michael! This woman said she named her son after you because her and her husband adore you!” You said in awe as you read from the letter.

Michael looked up at you as the knot in his stomach settled. Pictures of a newborn baby.

He breathed a sigh of relief and then passed you the photos without a word.

“Is that why you hid the photos?” You teased. “You wanted the first peek of the baby?”

Michael smiled, slouching against the paneling of his dresser. “Don’t be silly, girl. I didn’t know what those pictures were.”

“Well, Jesus, the way you fought me for them made me think I was about to see something horrible.”

Michael sighed. “You never know.” He said quietly, mostly to himself.

The phone rang again a couple of minutes later. This time you were a little more slow to answer it.

“Hel-“

“[Name],” You heard Michael say through the phone. “It’s me- Michael.”

As soon as you heard his voice you swung your legs over until they hit the carpeted floor.

“Michael,” You said carefully, “Uhm- hi, hey. How are you?”

He was quiet on the other end for a moment. “It’s been…. uhm-“ he began.

“Is everything okay?” You blurted out before you could think about it.

He breathed slowly. “No, not really. I’m sorry, [Name]. You know- for not returning your calls.”

Your eyes fell onto the magazine you had been reading earlier, the one of Michael and Diana embracing. A twinge of jealousy appeared in your stomach. But you brushed those thoughts away and tried to focus on Michael.

“I understand, Michael. You’re a very busy guy these days. It makes sense why you wouldn’t have time to hang out. I’m not mad or anything.”

“I just- I don’t know. I guess I thought you’d be mad at me for sort of blowing you off.” He took a breath. “And then so much time had passed and I didn’t know how to approach you again.”

“I mean, I was a little disappointed at first,” you said quietly into the receiver. Michael’s breathing paused for a moment, awaiting your next words. “But, Mike, I was more just worried about you.”

His heart leapt. “You were worried about me?”

You smiled. “Of course I was! I was thinking about you consta-“ You cleared your throat to avoid finishing the sentence you had regretfully started.

Michael’s tone switched. “Constantly, huh girl?”

“Oh, quiet. Don’t make me out to be like one of your fan girls, Mike.” You giggled into the phone and heard Michael do the same.

“Aren’t you though?”

“Sure, Michael Jackson. I’m your biggest fan.”