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Rated: 18+ · Book · Fanfiction · #2255067
Falling in love was not an option especially when the tides of fame were about to change
#1014058 added July 21, 2021 at 12:55pm
Restrictions: None
Chapter Two
Either Stacy was pretty damn fast or she had simply vanished from sight. Michael was stumped as he peered down the empty corridor save for Big Bill who was by the elevators like a sentry. The entire top floor had been rented out by the Jackson entourage and as Michael made his way towards Bill, he wondered if his other brothers and Joseph were still awake or fast asleep…something he wished he could be doing right now.

However, he knew he had hurt Stacy’s feelings and getting the girl to understand where he was coming from was paramount at this time.

“Hey, Mike. What’s going on, brother?” Big Bill greeted with a small nod in that big rumbling voice of his.

“Hey, Big Bill.” Michael gave him the customary handshake. “You seen a girl running by here by any chance?”

“Hmm…big eyes, long legs, pink dress?”

“Yeah…”

“She said she wanted to use the bathroom. Told her to go down the hall and to the left.” Big Bill slid down the dark sunglasses he wore a little, to wink at the teen. “Your girl, huh? She’s a fine thing, brother.”

About to deny that Stacy wasn’t his girl, Michael decided to bypass that as he made his way in the direction the bodyguard had pointed. There was a public restroom for the floor in addition to the private ones for each hotel room.

He paced outside the door…leaned against the opposite wall…paced around some more and after five minutes, wondered (and sincerely hoped) that Stacy hadn’t done something drastic like kill herself. It wasn’t uncommon to have some fans go overboard with their enthusiasm for the group. Michael had heard more than enough stories of people attempting to commit suicide whenever one of them didn’t acknowledge their existence. Some of their fan mail had some rather disturbing content; so much so, there was talk of hiring a pre-fan mail reader to weed out the whack jobs from real fans.

“Sta…Stacy?” Michael knocked on the door to the restroom gently. For a long minute, nothing was heard and now getting even more worried, he knocked a little louder. “Stacy? Are you okay?”

Silence.

Oh, God….

“Stacy?” Michael all but whined as he pressed himself closer to the door, hoping she’d hear him at least. “Come on, girl. I didn’t mean that, honest. I don’t hate you or anything. It’s just that…I’m just sleepy and Marlon woke me up and I wasn’t ready…” He sighed and scratched his hair gently. “Stacy? If you come out, I promise I’ll have dinner with you…or we’ll just talk…whatever you want. Just don’t drown yourself or anything, okay?”

He heard a slight sound…sniffling he was sure and realized that she was at least, still breathing, which was good news. Giving an inward sigh of relief, he spoke in earnest. “What do you say, girl? You and me … alone…having dinner in a quiet restaurant…ouch!”

The door had opened suddenly and Michael found himself almost kissing the floor as he lost his balance. He stared at the nice pair of white knee-high boots, his gaze drifting up her thighs and then into the scowling visage trained on him.

“Hey, girl…” he began with what he hoped was a friendly smile as he tried to rise to his feet, but he was shot down by her curt reply.

“Don’t patronize me, Michael. I know I’m not your type.”

The singer blinked in confusion, not having any recollection of mentioning his type to anyone in particular. “What do you…?”

“I don’t have big legs,” Stacy grumbled. “You said in an interview that you liked girls with big legs. I don’t have big legs, that’s why you don’t like me.”

“What the…?”

“And my ears are too big,” she continued, hitching in a deep breath as she reached up to pull her straight black hair up in a rough ponytail. “See? Everyone calls me ‘Dumbo’ because of them…”

“I don’t care about…”

“And I didn’t even want to come here, but Anita made me. “ She released the hair, so it covered her ‘dumbo’ ears and sniffled again. “Now, I have to suffer the humiliation of being rejected by you.”

“Whoa, girl. Can I at least get a word in?” Michael reached out to place his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. For the first time, he was allowed to see how really deep set and dark her eyes were, and he wasn’t surprised to find that funny tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach. Girls with big eyes were always a turn on for him, although he couldn’t help comparing them a little to…

“….iana…”

“Huh?”

Michael flushed in embarrassment. “Nothing. I mean…your eyes…they remind me of Miss. Ross.”

“…Diana Ross?”

“Yeah…”

“You think I look like Diana Ross of the Supremes?”

Michael wondered if she was getting angry and hoped his answers weren’t doing the trick. “Well…maybe a little.”

Stacy looked confused. “She doesn’t have thick legs.”

“Who?” Now it was Michael’s turn to look bewildered.

“Miss. Ross,” came the impatient reply. “She doesn’t have big legs.”

A quick image of the older woman flashed through his mind. “No…no she doesn’t…”

“But you like her?”

“Uumm…” Michael felt like he was being put on the hot seat and he released Stacy to take a step back. “Look, you just have the same eyes, that’s all. Whether I like Diana Ross or not is not important, okay? So…eh…what do you want to do?”

“Nothing,” came the sullen reply. “I want to go home.”

If she was trying to make him feel guilty, she was doing a fantastic job of it and Michael felt even more of a heel for what he had done. “Stacy, I said I was sorry. I’ll make it up to you…”

“Then have sex with me…like Anita and Marlon.”

Michael blanched at the bold dare, wondering how he could backtrack out of this, but it seemed like he wouldn’t have to as Stacy shook her head and began to walk away. “I knew it. You can’t do it.”

Feeling his manhood being threatened, the teen jogged a little to catch up. “Hey now, girl, you don’t know that. I can do whatever I want…”

“Then do it,” Stacy said, stopping and folding her arms before her chest with a small smirk on her red lips. “Take me like a man, Michael.”

The boy mumbled something and she leaned closer. “What’s that?”

“You don’t really want to do this, do you?” he finally said a little louder, looking at her with a helpless expression on his visage. “We don’t even know each other that well…yet.”

She stared into his eyes and felt something warm flutter in her chest. There was something so…innocent about Michael. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but Marlon hadn’t been joking when he had said she was his biggest fan. She had loved him since they burst onto the scene back on the Ed Sullivan show and she was almost embarrassed to admit that she had his posters and knew most his songs by heart. To think that she was actually standing before him after all these years of admiring him from afar…she was doing well in not giving in to the giddy excitement that threatened to consume her. This was no longer a fantasy, but a reality – a reality made possible by a girlfriend who had been determined to get one of the Jackson brothers to sleep with her.

Thank you, Anita. Even if nothing happens, I’ll never forget this night for as long as I live.

Unfortunately…

“It’s okay,” she finally said, lowering her lashes and scuffing the tan carpet with the tip of her boot. “We don’t have to do anything. I know you’ve got a long day tomorrow, anyway. So…I’ll wait for Anita downstairs. Thanks…all the same…you’re really a nice person…”

She knew she was going to burst into tears again, and turning away she prepared to leave. However, a firm grip on her elbow had her stopping in her tracks.

“Let’s do something,” Michael said quietly with a small but warm smile. “Not s…sex though,” he explained quickly as he noticed her eyes widening. “Just…you know…something fun.”

She shook her head. “It’s late…and what could we do at three in the morning?”

Michael wracked his brain, knowing she had a point. There really wasn’t much they could do…but if he was being realistic, this was the best time for him to go anywhere without the threat of being attacked by fans or questioned and hassled by managers or the media.

“We could see a movie,” he finally said.

Stacy rolled her eyes. “Riiiight. You should go to bed, Michael.”

“What bed?” he scoffed. “I’ll still end up sleeping in the hallway anyway. Marlon is too loud.”

“Then what can we possibly do?”

Thinking quickly, Michael seemed to come to a conclusion. Tugging her arm gently, he led her back to Big Bill, who was trying not to doze off where he stood.

“Big Bill?”

He started and straightened out his uniform, trying to look as composed as possible. “What’s the matter, Mike?”

“Stacy and I want to go someplace,” he said. “Think you can do something about that?”

“It’s three in the morning, Mike,” Bill reasoned slowly, noticing the girl shrugging behind the boy as if saying ‘he’s the boss’. “Where do you want to…?”

“Anywhere…somewhere…where we can have fun.”

“You’re in your pjs,” Stacy reminded him quietly, trying not to blush at the intimacy of the clothing. And another thing, she had noticed that Michael was much skinnier in person. Skinny but strong…in every possible way.

“They look like regular pants,” Michael argued, reaching out for Big Bill’s sunglasses to slip into them. “And with this disguise, no one really knows who I am.”

Stacy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but settled for nodding in agreement. “Uh…sure. If you say so.”

Michael grinned, looking quite pleased with himself. “So? Bill, come on,” he whined. “Take us someplace.”

“Your father ain’t gonna like this.”

Michael seemed to stiffen, and replied in a flat voice. “Joseph doesn’t have to know.”

The big guy looked like he wanted to protest, but seeing the determination in Michael’s eyes had him shaking his head. “All right. I’ll get Pete to stand in my place. You might want to wear this too.” He shrugged out of his leather jacket and forced Michael to wear it, trying not to laugh as it seemed to swallow the teen like a cloak.

“You know which way to go,” Bill was saying as he made his way to the phone against the wall to call his back up. “I’ll meet you two downstairs, okay?”

Michael nodded and gripped Stacy’s hand gently but firmly. He looked into her bewildered dark eyes and felt a rush of adrenaline not unlike the kind he got when about to go on stage. There was something so wild and dangerous about what he was about to do, but to hell with the consequences. He was going to make sure Stacy had a good time tonight.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I…I guess,” came the quiet reply. She still looked unsure. “Michael…we really don’t…”

“Trust me,” he said, placing a finger against her lips to silence her. “Just trust me. Everything is going to be all right.”












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