12 - Head Games

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*January 15th, 1980*

"Next on Celebrity Entertainment: Michael Jackson. Does he have a girlfriend? We're about to find out! Now here's the exclusive interview with one of our reporters..." The screen fuzzes to a shot of Michael wearing his dark shades, chewing a piece of gum. The camera pans out to show him sitting in a comfy chair and the interviewer's voice comes through the speakers.

"Wonderful to have you here today, Michael." The female voice says. Michael's expression is neutral currently, withdrawn.

"Wonderful to be here, thank you." He speaks softly but clearly, nodding once.

"So, I'm just going to get to it. Are you dating someone?" Michael smiles, unable to hide his glee at the answer to the question. He adjusts himself in his chair before answering.

"Is it that surprising that I'd be dating finally?" He says, smirking. The interview was tanking for the reporter, and quickly at that. No one could hear his thoughts, but Michael was thinking about how he'd thought they'd ask him about the Destiny Tour his brothers and him had just finished two days ago. He guessed wrong apparently. With his responses, more and more viewers were tuning in to view the sass-master at work as he chewed on a piece of Bazooka gum. A stuttering was heard from the female interviewer before she spoke again.

"No. It's not surprising, but are you in fact dating your former mixer from the production of Off the Wall?" She asked, her defenses were clearly rising even though the audience couldn't see her. Michael wanted to laugh, she made it too easy.

"Heh, that depends." He waited for the reporter that sat opposite of him, still smiling because he had the upper hand in the conversation.

"Depends on what?" The audience heard her ask, flustered. Michael blew a bubble on screen and it popped loudly. He was being cocky, something he'd never done before. His actions in this interview would affect his image for much longer than he realized, but it also wasn't necessarily in a bad way either.

"Depends on which mixer your talking about." He cackled, amused with himself. "Ok, ok. Yes, we're dating." Michael admitted finally.

"Is it true that you've already cheated on her?" Michael became glad that he'd chosen to wear his sunglasses for the interview, because his eyes went wide at the obscene question the lady had just asked him on live television. The viewers could still see his eyebrows rise almost into his hairline. Almost.

"Why in the world would you ask me that?" Michael asked the reporter. No one could hear his thoughts, but if you knew Michael Jackson at all it was clear he was extremely confused by the question she had just asked him.

"Sources say that you've been seen sneaking girls into your place of residence in Encino. Are you in an open relationship?" The reporter's voice sounded as though she'd caught an animal in her set trap as she responded, sly and victorious. He was having a hard time keeping a neutral face with all the questions mounting against him. Nowhere in the preliminary list of questions set were the ones she was asking him right now, on live television. Michael blinked and decided to take off his sunglasses on camera. There was no clear way out of this kerfuffle, but he was determined to try and fix this interview before it became the complete shit-storm it looked as though it was about to become.

"Watching what my brothers did with groupies, and what my father did to my mother while growing up, I would never cheat on anyone." The reported went silent, surprised. She'd gotten her scoop one way or another, so here it was being given to her by the musician himself. Wrapped up like a Christmas gift under a dressed-up tree. "I couldn't disrespect anyone that way. I can't fathom it. My girlfriend trusts me, and I trust her, the remaining details of our relationship do not concern you. Thank you." With that, Michael stood up and walked out of the frame, confident as he put his sunglasses back on.

The cameraman moved the frame to reveal the female reporter, her face was agasp as she moved her head from the camera to where the audience had seen Michael walk away. The segment cut immediately and a 'We are experiencing technical difficulties, Please Stand By' sign popped up on T.V.'s across North America consecutively, thus ending the awaited interview.



*March 1980*
Michael's Perspective

"Wake up. Wake up Michael!" I opened my eyes as my body bounced on my bed. I saw in the chaos Janet was jumping on my bed. How did she get in my room? Did I remember to put on pjs last night? AM I NUDE RIGHT NOW? While bouncing up and down with my little sister, I quickly glanced at myself between the sheets as relief washed over me. I'm good. Thank god for pajama bottoms! The bed stilled, and I looked up to see Janet directly in front of me, our eyes inches away from each other.

"You remember what day it is, right?" She asked me. I blinked, trying to remember through the sleepy haze my brain was still in.

"No. What day is it?" I asked. My voice was groggy sounding I noticed as I leaned up onto my elbows.

"Today's the day your girlfriend is coming over for dinner!" Janet yelled. I groaned loudly, falling back head-first onto my mattress. My hand groped around until it found my pillow, shoving it onto my face like a angsty teenager.

Oh no... What if-- NO. Screw 'What if's'! Today is going to be a good day, even if I must make it a good day.

"Well, that's not a good reaction..." I heard my sister say. The bed dipped as she got up from on top of me. "I'm excited for Astoria to come over, I like her." I moved my pillow off my face, so I could look at her.

"I know you like her, Dunk. I've never been worried about you liking her." I confessed. She just smiled at me.

"Marlon, Randy, and Mom are happy for you too. I should let you know that Mom's baking because she's so excited to see her again." I made a face, leaning back on my hands while still in bed. We'd been dating for a bit over two months now, and the both of us had agreed it was time to meet my entire family, officially. I'm glad Mother wasn't nervous, but I was.

"She's baking?" I asked, wide eyed. Janet nodded, her hand on the doorframe looking like she was about ready to leave my bedroom. "Dang..." The gears in my head turned for a moment, "I should call her!" I decided, pointing a finger in the air like I had discovered a new species of animal. With that exclamation I got up from my bed and shuffled through the clothes on the floor of my bedroom, trying to find the curly cord of my phone. I heard my little sister chuckle as she left my bedroom, shutting the door behind her with a 'click'.

Where's my phone, where's my phone... Where did I leave it?

Finally, under a pile of shirts and Levi's as well as an old copy of Jet Magazine, I found my phone. As I dialed Astoria's number, I became thankful that I had my own landline for my section of my parents' house. Who knows what we'd talk about one day... I felt my cheeks heat up, thinking about things I probably shouldn't have been thinking about right now. I sat down on the carpet amongst my clean and dirty clothes that littered my bedroom floor as I listened to the line ring in my ear. Ring. Ring. Ring...

I should probably clean up before she comes over tonight...



Astoria's Perspective

I've been up and packing for... Gosh, hours? My new beachfront house was ready for me to move into and though I was ecstatic to move to a place where rain was plentiful, and winters were actually white, my boyfriend would still be in California. My boyfriend. The thought of Michael holding that title made me giddy inside, like sunshine was bursting from inside me. I could finally say that now, I have a boyfriend.

But we had yet to talk about my new house and what it meant for us, now that we would be living with an entire state in between us. My hands fiddled with the tag on a shirt I had been getting ready to fold and put away. After this weekend I was gone. I wouldn't be an hour's drive away any more. I'd still be a phone call away, but that's not the same. I huffed, folding the shirt in my hands and putting it into the box that sat in front of me on my twin-sized mattress. I wracked my brain.

What are we going to do?

Something inside me told me that I shouldn't worry about this bump in the road; and it's true, if Michael and I are meant to be then it will work out. My unnecessary anxiety was trying to creep up on me again, and it needed to figure out when it wasn't wanted. I frowned, and my eyebrows moved closer together as I thought about today and all I had planned. My brain began cataloging a list of what I needed to do and pick up before I went to Havenhurst later tonight.
Shoot! I need to pick up a hostess gift for Katherine... What would she even like? I hadn't seen Michael's mother since I met her back in 1978—that was TWO years ago.

Wow, we've known each other for two years now... Mrs. Astoria Jac—

I shook my head back and forth, throwing out thoughts that didn't need to be there right now. We just started dating. It hasn't been a year, or even six months! Calm yourself. With the box in front of me now full of clothes, I folded down the cardboard and grabbed the packing-tape gun. As I was smoothly sliding the clear tape along the seam of the box opening, it ran out of tape.

Looks like I need tape too.

I let out a frustrated sigh as I tossed the empty tape gun on my mattress. Then the phone rang on my bedside table. I decided now was as good a time as any to take a break, so I sat down and picked up the phone, holding it to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Hey, baby." It was Michael. I grinned from ear to ear.

"Well hello there." He chuckled from the other end of the line as I twisted the phone cord around my finger. "What can I help you with?" I asked shyly.

"Umm, a lot. But that's not why I called." I could tell he was blushing and probably already grinning like a fool. Just like I am.

"Why'd you call me, Mike?" I asked, trying not to smile and failing miserably. It made me smile harder. Damn.

"I wanted to hear your voice, why else?"

"You're being cute, stop it. Since I have you on the phone, what kind of things does your mom like?" I leaned my back against the wall, waiting for his answer.

"You want to know what my mother likes?" He asked slowly, sounding surprised and a bit confused.

"Yes, I do." He cleared his throat.

"Well, she loves kids. Her grandkids especially, and hot tea in the winter—" I cut him off.

"Michael, that's lovely but I was talking more along the lines of a hostess gift." I chuckled, knowing full well if I hadn't stopped him from talking, that he'd continue with the list for a solid five minutes at least. A Mama's boy is what he is.

"Oh! Flowers." He said simply. I wanted to run my hands down my face because the answer had been so obvious. Flowers.

"Does she have a favorite type of flower then? Are you going to make me ask you 21 questions, what is this?" I laughed lightly, teasing him through the phone.

"She'd be happy with any kind of flowers, baby. The gesture itself would make her day, I know it." He replied sweetly.

I love it when he calls me baby.

"Ok, I'll just find whatever looks best at the florist I pass on my way to your place, I've been wanting to stop in there anyway." I paused, wanting to bring up my new house. He must have noticed my mind was wondering, because I heard Michael's voice before I could continue talking.

"Is everything alright, Astoria?" I bit my lip at his question. My eyes wandered around my bedroom, looking at all the packed boxes ready to move all the way up to Washington. I couldn't beat around the bush. I needed to be honest with him, always; honesty is the best policy, at least that's what I had been told while growing up.

"Everything's ok, Michael, but we need to talk later tonight." The line went silent and I got nervous. What's he thinking right now? "Michael?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. We can talk later tonight, sure. After dinner." His tone of voice sounded distant, like he was disconnected from our conversation suddenly. Michael's response didn't make me feel any better about the situation. I shifted awkwardly on my bed, still holding the phone closely to my ear.

"Um, I'll see you later tonight then?" I spoke hesitantly as my confidence walked out my front door, like it was leaving its baby mama. I'm leavin' your sorry butt! I bit the inside of my cheek. My body pulled in on itself, and I realized his reactions affected me too much to be healthy.

"Sure. I'll see you tonight." Michael soft voice said into my ear before I heard a click. He'd hung up. I sighed heavily and hung my phone up on my nightstand, falling onto my back with my arms above my head. I stared at the ceiling like I had done so many times before.

What am I doing wrong? Are all the bumps in our relationship my fault? No. That's not why. It takes two to tango.

My lips turned into a somber frown as my eyes found patterns and figures in the off-white popcorn ceiling above me.

Later that night...

I'd stopped at the florist like I told Michael I would before coming over, and it was better than I could have imagined. The florist there was so nice; I'd told her what I had planned for tonight and a knowing smile had appeared on her face. She knew exactly what I needed. 

Inside the shop was your typical roses, lilies, carnations with baby's breath, all the classics, but I hadn't wanted something you'd normally see. I wanted to get Katherine a flower that was more special that a bunch of roses, though roses are beautiful she deserves something unique like her. Maybe a fragrant flower that wasn't in bloom right now...

The florist had read my mind somehow and directed me to a collection of flowers they just received in their weekly shipment. The list included bells of Ireland, several types of peonies, potted bulb plants of hyacinth and daffodils, and columbine just to name a few. They were all beautiful and unique, but a scent filled my senses once she'd walked me over. I needed to know what smelled so lovely. 

Lilacs. That's what had smelled so gorgeous. I'd purchased a bouquet immediately, and it was sitting safely in my front passenger seat in my tiny car as I drove through Encino, California. Currently, I wasn't as nervous as I had been when I'd gotten off the phone with Michael. I felt good as The Police's song titled, Don't Stand So Close to Me played loudly on my radio. I sang along to the chorus as I made the final turn to Havenhurst, the front of my car almost kissing their gate.

No parking on the curb for me anymore. No sir.

The voice that manned the gate let me in and soon I was parking my Pinto near the front double doors, like I belonged there. The surrounding vehicles are significantly more luxurious than my Ford. It looked comical: A Pinto surrounded by a black Mercedes, two Bentley's, a Rolls Royce, and one BMW that was the farthest away. I chuckled. My car was being ganged up on.

I had decided to not get rid of my trusty first car; I'm going to keep the deathly Ford Pinto, but I am going to get another everyday driver. I've been looking into Audi, Porsche, and a couple others. I'm not yet sure if I want to purchase something older or brand new, we'll see. I have options! It's a new feeling being able to peruse so many models and not just the used section of car lots.

I knocked on one of the doors, holding the bouquet up near my face—it's so huge, I think I could hide behind it. My head would be hidden for sure. The delicate white and purple flowers tickled my right arm and hand as I held onto it. That'd be fun, I thought, hiding behind a giant bouquet of flowers. Almost like jumping out of a cake. I grinned as the door opened to reveal Katherine, wearing a lovely floral-printed blouse and pressed, cream colored slacks. I swear every time I see her, she looks so well put together. I gave her a one-armed hug once the door was closed behind us.

"Astoria. Honey, it's been too long!" She told me with sincerity. My heart melted. She's such a wonderful woman, gosh.

"It has. It's so wonderful to see you again, Katherine." My eyes went wide as I remembered the heavy bouquet in my hand, "These are for you. Thank you for having me over for dinner tonight." I handed them off to Michael's mother and her eyes lit up before taking a long whiff with her nose.

"Lilacs. Oh, gosh. How'd you know these are one of my favorite flowers?" She asked as we began walking towards the kitchen.

"I didn't." I shrugged, still smiling from the love I felt oozing off her aura.

"Oh. Well, now you know sweetie."My heart soared when she called me any term of endearment, it made me miss my parents... but tonight wasn't about them. I watched her set down the bouquet of lilacs on the counter. Katherine grabbed a crystal vase from the cabinet underneath the sink. A light thump sounded when the vase met the wooden countertop. A large bladed knife appeared in Katherine's hand as she crushed the woody ends of the stems with the flat of the blade—this is the best way to allow any kind of woody-stemmed fresh cut to soak up water properly.

I'd been leaning on the counter with my elbows, watching contently and enjoying the crunching sound of the stems. I didn't even realize someone had walked up behind me and mirrored my position to my right. Then I saw Katherine chuckle with a hand on her hip, stopping what she'd been doing moments ago. I glanced to my side finding a friend.

"Randy-Dandy! Come here!" He laughed and enveloped me in a hug.

"Hey, Ash. What's a fine lady like you doing in a place like this?" I gave him an incredulous look as we parted.

"Yeah. Fine, ok." I waved him off with a hand in disbelief.

"Naw, don't wave that hand in my face!" I playfully smacked his arm.

"Stop playing, Randy. Gosh..." My face felt warm as he teased me. Where is my boyfriend? Randy laughed, putting a hand on my shoulder. Katherine just watched us with a sly smile as she put her flowers in the vase.

"You're fun to tease. Sorry, Ash." I looked up at him.

"It's good." I replied with a shrug. Randy's teasing was inevitable, it's just who he is.

"Dinner is almost done. Why don't you two go find everyone else and round them up." Katherine raised an eyebrow at her son who stood next to me, now finished fixing up her gift.

"Will do, Mama." He replied, then turned to me. "Let's go Ash. I'll help you find Mike..." He linked his arm with mine and we walked out of the kitchen together with a mission: Find My Man. For the first time I walked up the twisty, metal stairs to the upstairs part of the house. I got excited as I looked around, seeing personal photographs on the walls along with framed newspaper announcements and some choice musical

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