"Are you going to tell me who the heck it is?" Brian asked me.

"I think you're going to have to buy me another drink if you want the answer to your question." I replied.

He was asking about Michael, of course. Whitland never could handle not knowing a secret, but he happened to be good at keeping them, at least. Still, I had just recently signed a lovely, thick contract that stated I couldn't talk about my work with Michael, the album, or anything to do with it for that matter until it was finally released to the public. I knew the secrecy was going to kill Brian, but I was beyond excited to finally start some significant work with Michael, Quincy and the rest of the team. We'd already gotten some less significant details worked out on a couple songs, and Q let me hear the four tracks they had done prior to myself joining the team.

With four done, and five more songs in the works, we almost had ourselves a full album. Saying things were getting exciting was an understatement, but it seemed the more we all collaborated the higher the energy during recording sessions became. The atmosphere was like a kettle ready to whistle, or a pot ready to boil over, intense and inspiring. We only had one small bump in the road ahead of us still: we needed ten songs. We currently only had nine songs. Thankfully our deadline given to us by the record label wasn't for another couple months, meaning we were currently ahead of the curve and sitting pretty.

I ran a finger around the rim of my glass of whiskey, thinking to myself as my co-worker sat next to me in pregnant silence. I saw him pivot on the bar stool next to me.

"Seriously, what if I guess who it is? Then will you tell me?" He almost begged. I looked up at him.

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you anything right now. I signed a very thorough contract when I got added to this album." I shrugged, and he let out a sigh.

"Well, at the very least let me be the first to know right before it hits stores, yeah?" Brian raised an eyebrow at me, smiling.

"Uh, maybe." I chuckled and took a drink.

"Oh, hey. I forgot to tell you."

"What?" I set my drink down.

"The boss man is ecstatic. Regardless of who the artist is that's working with Quincy Jones, you've just made a huge impact on his decision for who's going to be moving up the corporate ladder."

"You're pulling my leg." I stared at Brian. He shrugged at me and took a sip of his own drink.

"When have I ever been wrong, Briggs?" My demeanor flattened.

"That time you thought Carol King would want to do a song called 'Rimmed Up'." I said deadpan. Brian gave me a look, defeated.

"When are you going to let that go? That was ages ago..." He blushed hard and I held back a chuckle.

"It was so sexual though... How could you not know she'd hate it?" My laughter began to escape my lips. "It was as if you'd never listened to her music before at all. Come on, Whitland." I smiled and bumped him with my shoulder. After covering his face in his hands, Brian let out a short laugh at my antics.

"You know, I'm still surprised that someone allowed it on the song list in the first place." He smiled and glanced down at his wrist watch. "Oh shit."

"What?" I saw him swig down the remainder of his drink quickly.

"It's pushing 9 pm and I promised I'd meet Nikki at that restaurant down on fifth street." Brain stood up, pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, and slapped down a couple of bills before giving me a wave as he left. Just as I was about to turn back to my drink, Brian popped his head back in the bar and yelled across the room to me. "If this mystery person gives you grief, he has to talk to me! Got it?" I gave him a thumbs up.

"Got it, Whitland. Go enjoy Nikki, jeez..." I waved him off with my hands and giving me one last smile, his head disappeared again.

The next day I had off, which was a godsend seeing as I had just worked 12 days in a row. I had already made plans to meet up with some of the local color: my friends. We'd planned to meet downtown in a new area that was bursting with local entertainment. You guessed it; even on my days off, I had my mind on work.

Music to me wasn't work. That's the beauty of music, it's effortless when it's good. My career was still in its early stages, and I knew that miraculously landing a job working with Quincy Jones, Rod Temperton, and many other geniuses on a Michael Jackson album was nothing short of a historical moment. Musically speaking, of course.

I quickly tried to finish getting ready for our girl's night out, putting on my make-up in the large bathroom mirror. My radio was on in my bedroom, cranked up as loud as it would go so I could hear it throughout the house. Was my record player setup louder than my radio? Yes, it is. My radio was simply closer to me at the time. I could make out the evening DJ voice fairly well...

"OK all you Disco Fever fans! Being spun at you next is the chart-topper by the one and only Bee-Gees: You Should Be Dancing. After that were gonna slow it down a little with some Seals & Croft, and a number by Blue Suede. That's what's up next here on 97.8 FM."

You Should Be Dancing began to play and just as quickly my doorbell rang multiple times in a row, signifying the arrival of my friends. I let out a sigh. I only had one of my eyes done, it was like looking at a a before and after picture. Setting done my eyeliner, I walked out of the bathroom to go answer my door as the doorbell continued to ring relentlessly. I opened my front door to reveal my friends Carol, Brinley, and Mary Anne.

Carol is a fiery red-head, bound for greatness and as outspoken as a sidewalk preacher. She's seven years my senior, making her the natural leader of the group. Then there's Brinley, a tall girl with an overseas trust fund and nothing to worry about when it comes to her future. B's mostly known for travelling at a moment's notice and her quiet and polite disposition. Lastly, but not least there's Mary Anne. A plain name for a plain jane with mouse brown hair and a soft spot for romance novels. These three girls were the closest thing to having sisters I had, we talked to each other about anything and everything. The more I thought about my newest assignment, the more I wondered how my friends would react when they found out I couldn't talk about it, let alone tell them who I was working for in the first place. A sudden wave of apprehension washed over me. I didn't want to let them down.

Think of your career, Ash...

My friends burst through the front door of my apartment, their faces smiling in various stages of excitement. We hadn't had a girl's night in what felt like forever.

"Astoria Rene!" Yelled out Brinley.

"Ash!" Exclaimed Mary Anne.

"It's so good to see you, girly!" Spoke Carol sweetly.

"Aw, you guys." We all enveloped each other as soon as the door shut behind them. "It's been too long."

"Agreed." Stated Brinley. We all let go of each other after a moment, looking at each other smiling like the bunch of goofballs we were.

"Ok, I have to finish putting my face on, I'll be right back." I began to walk back towards my bathroom when I heard Carol.

"Nonsense, we'll follow you." And that's exactly what they did.

My bathroom became a cramped space as I finished getting ready surrounded my my three friends. One sat on top of the toilet the other two sat on the edge of the bathtub with the shower curtain pushed aside. We laughed, gossiped, made faces in the mirror as my radio played in the background. Once I was done we grabbed our jackets, purses, cash, and I grabbed my keys to lock my front door on our way out.

We all piled into Brinley's convertible and took off down the street and into the thick of the city. We cranked up the tunes, singing along loudly. Some of us were decent singers, others not so much... *cough* Brinley *cough* That's alright though, because Brinley's got a heart of gold, ironically, for someone with as much money as she has.

Then there was Mary Anne. Other than always seeing her with another new novel clutched in her grasp she worked for a local, budding book publishing company in San Diego. Sure it was about two hours away, but nothing could keep the four of us apart. This is the beauty of our group. We're all from different backgrounds, ages, upbringings, and interests, but for some magical reason we all gravitate towards each other. Behold the majesty that is friendship! Pardon my mushy feelings.

We made it to our first new club of the evening, the name is if no relevance and we were only planning on staying for a half hour max. Brinley parked her convertible and we all made our way inside. The chill in the air was beginning to make an appearance I noticed as I felt it gently ruffle my bell bottom jeans against my clogs. Inside people were already rocking out onstage and people crowded the dance floor, dancing, some with drinks in hand. The band was doing a cover of Rick Derringer's Rock and Roll, Hoochie Koo. It sounded pretty good too.

I turned, seeing Carol and Brinley make a bee-line to the bar to get some drinks. Mary Anne made her way to the dance floor and grabbed my hand, pulling me along. We went straight for the front of the stage, getting a close up of the band playing. The guitarist was flaring out a quick solo before the lead singer sang the next line. Naturally the guys up there looked a bit sweaty as they finished up their song. The crowd gave them a good ovation. Mary Anne gave them a good whistle as she clapped. I smiled and felt someone tap me on my shoulder. I turned seeing Carol and Brinley with drinks.

"Drinks for our girls!" Brinley said with a smile. I took the drink she held out for me. I gave it a look.

"What the heck is this, Brin?" I asked while staring at the colorful, blended drink in my hand. She gave me a devious smile in response.

"Two of these and you'll be out like a light, I swear." She said. Carol wrapped an arm around Brinley's shoulder after handing Mary Anne her drink.

"Don't be such a spoilsport, Ash. We're having fun and you don't work tomorrow." She stuck her tongue out at me playfully. The band began to play another song, but I didn't recognize it. I let out a breath.

"Call me crazy for wanting to know what I'll be throwing up later..." I shrugged. Mary Anne nudged my shoulder.

"Same time?" She asked me referring to her drink and mine. She'd been given the same thing.

"Cheers." I said. We clinked glasses and took a big gulp together. I shuddered. Mary Anne let out a cough and we looked at each other letting out a good laugh. I smacked my lips together, tasting the foreign drink on my tongue. "Mary Anne, I think this is a long-Island Iced Tea?"

"You think?" She downed the rest of her's setting the now empty glass on a nearby table. Mary Anne went straight back to dancing her way back into the frey on the dance floor. My friends were such free spirits... What was wrong with me?

I felt myself frown.

The remainder of the night went by without a hitch. I did actually have a good time, I just wasn't as flamboyant as my three friends. They really knew how to have fun, let me tell you. Brinley pulled up in the complex driveway and put the car in park. Carol was passed out in the back seat with Mary Anne. They'd had more to drink than Brinley and me combined, so it was obvious their mornings were not going to be an envious time. I got up out of the front seat, patting my jacket pockets for my house keys.

Brinley gave my a tired wave and pulled out of my driveway.

"Drive safe, you goober!" I yelled after her. Before she disappeared out of sight I saw her stick her arm straight into the air. A small smile lit up my face. I made the trudge up the complex stairs to my apartment, unlocking the door with ease. I dropped my keys and jacket on the couch by the door and made my way to my bedroom.

Did I lock the door again? Yes. Yes, you did. Good.

Plopping back-first onto my bed I closed my eyes and let out a deep sigh. I wanted to fall asleep right then and there, but my phone rang out in the silence, making me begrudgingly open my eyes again.

Who the hell could that be? It's what? 11 pm at night?

I glanced at my alarm clock on my bedside, it said 11:42 pm. Since the phone kept ringing I decided to pick it up.

"Whoever this is better have a good explanation as to why they're calling me so damn late." I spoke into the phone. At first there was silence, until someone cleared their throat on the other end.

"Um, hello Miss Briggs." The voice spoke. It was male, I think. It was late, I'd had a few drinks earlier, and that equalled no nonsense Astoria.

"Who the heck is this?" The voice answered, not missing a beat.

"Michael." I squinted.

"Michael...Caine?" I asked, having some fun.

"I think the lack of accent tells you otherwise." He drawled.

"Ok, are you Michael Gambon? If you are, I should tell you that you're a lovely actor." I said smiling.

"Um, no." He sounded displeased.

"Alright then. Give me a hint." I heard him let out a small sigh.

"My initials are M J J. Does that help?" He let out a short chuckle.

"No, not really."

"Do you live under a rock?" He laughed.

"A concrete one, if you want to get technical." I said seriously.

"Jeez. You're something else, you know that?" There was a pause on both our ends of the phone. "Astoria, I know you know it's me."

"Nah, maybe I don't know."

"Seriously?"

"Say it."

"Say what?"

"Say your name."

"What. Why?"

"I asked nicely." I heard his guffaw through the phone.

"You know what, fine. OK. Astoria Briggs, this is Michael Jackson on the phone. Your boss." My eyes went wide when I heard those last two words he uttered. I blinked, sitting up on my bed still in my jeans.

"Michael, you know I was just kidding around, right?" After a moment of intense silence, I heard high-pitched laughter suddenly come from his end of the line. My eyebrows knitted together. I set down my curly-corded phone to pull my shirt off. I grabbed an oversized shirt and quickly slipped it on. I put the phone back to my ear, plopping back down on the edge of my bed. "Are you done laughing at me, sir?" I asked, deadpan.

"I was just playing, Astoria. I'm sorry. Why'd you set the phone down?" Without thinking I answered honestly.

"I took my shirt off, that's all."

Silence...

"Michael? Michael are you still there?" I asked, taking off my clogs and throwing them aside. I heard his clear his throat. I leaned back on my arms, still in my jeans.

"Um, yeah. Yeah, I'm still here." His voice was low. He sounded like he was blushing.

"Are you... Are you blushing, Michael?" I smirked.

"No, no, nope. That would be unprofessional... Like telling your boss you just took your shirt off over the phone."

"Sorry. I won't do it again. Though for the record, you did ask me. I just don't see a reason to not be honest about something so simple. You take your shirts off too at the end of the day, jeez."

"Point made." He paused, "Anyway... Oh! Before I forget, please don't call me sir. It just sounds weird to me."

"Got it," I unbuttoned my jeans, "Sir is officially off the table. What about, Mike? Or Mac Daddy? OH. How about Captain?" I laughed trying to take my jeans off while holding the phone between my shoulder and ear. I must have made some noises because Michael was asking me about it rather than addressing the new names I came up with for him.

"What exactly are you doing now? You sound like you're having a fight with a dishwasher or something..."

"Do you really want to know, Mac Daddy?" I asked, still struggling.

"Maybe not... And don't call me 'Mac Daddy' either." He giggled.

"Too bad, I'm going to tell you anyway because I have no shame, Michael. I am currently trying to take off my jeans while keeping the phone up to my ear, and let me tell you, it's not working out." I sighed, leaning back and giving up for the moment.

"Gave up?" He asked.

"It's what I get for wearing tight pants..."

"Tell me about it."

"You've had the same problem?" I asked, curious.

"Um, yes. Often. Performer, remember?"

"Of course." I chuckled. Silence overtook the line again. "Why did you call again?"

"I never said why. Um, I was bored."

"You were bored?"

"Yeah." He said sheepishly.

"Well, I can say I really wasn't expecting you to call... at all." I smiled, looking up at my ceiling.

"I wasn't expecting you to be undressing while we were talking."

"Well, I had just gotten back from a night out with friends. So...yeah. Taking the clothes off so I could jump into bed and crash for the night." I glanced at my clock. 12:50 am. "We've been on the phone for over an hour, what the heck."

"Yeah, we have." He yawned.

"Aw, someone's tired."

"And good thing too, but I've really enjoyed our conversation."

"Me too."

More silence.

"I should let you go... I'll see you on Monday?" He asked me, sounding sleepy.

"Bright and early on Monday, Boss."

"Uhg, just call me Michael. Mike is fine too, but I'm just Michael. Please." He spoke quietly.

"Oh. Of course, Michael. Good night."

"Goodnight, Astoria Briggs."

Damn.

Ϟ

Vote, Comment, tell me what you think!

All the best,

IShineNotBurn