Adult Content; 18+

Friday, May 23rd, 1986

Los Olivos, California

The Ranch

"Paisley? Oh, Paisley?" I picked up a box, seeing if she was hiding beneath it. Nope. "PJ, where'd you go? Daddy isn't very good at this game, baby." It'd only been about five minutes, no reason to worry. Yet. The two of us had gone on a walk while Ash made some phone calls from the study for work, we both we're on sabbatical but she still wanted to keep an eye on things with the record company - understandably so.

My daughter and I had gone out to the front garden - it's really just the front yard, but who cares - , in which there are plenty of places to hide in. Backing up, I turned around and looked for any sign whatsoever of her yellow windbreaker she'd decided to wear today. I found nothing. But I did hear a giggle that sounded close by. A smirk rippled across my face.

"Hmm," I spoke a bit louder than normal so I knew she'd hear me. "I wonder where PJ's gone to now. I bet she's all the way to the North Pole! No! An African safari!" The giggling heightened, alerting me to where she was hiding. "I can't believe she went to Africa without me! Her own Dad!" I whined, making Paisley roar with laughter from her spot surrounded by flowering bushes, I picked her up. "There she is!" I kissed her chubby cheek. "Did you see any elephants, baby?" Her grin had never been wider as she shook her head 'no'.

Now that Paisley's one and half, she's a blast. Always having new adventures, running everywhere her little legs will allow her, I love it. I love her, my daughter. We taught her sign language as she's began to grow, and she's quite expressive and highly intelligent already. She blows me away almost every day. Just then she signed the motion for 'Mom' as she looked around. We'd been outside for awhile now, so it only seemed fitting to go back inside the house.

"We'll go find Momma, ok." Holding her to my hip, we began walking inside to the house. "Today's a special day for Momma, did you know that Paisley?" She might not fully understand having had only one birthday herself, but I figured it's never too early to learn. "It's Momma's 29th Birthday today, and that means we're gonna have a party! Yay!" She just grinned at me with her fingers in her mouth, chewing on them.

We'd made it into the house, and I decided to check in on the kitchen to see how things were coming along for the party later tonight. The cooking was in full force! Our kitchen looked like the kitchen of a five star Michelin restaurant, everyone was all hustle and bustle wasting no time with anything. It was kinda cool to watch something of this magnitude take place in your own home.

Paisley gripped my shirt at the fast-pace of the kitchen. "It's ok baby girl." My eyes found the pastry chef at work. I pointed at him, "Let's go look at the cake!"

We walked through the jumble of people in white smocks and hats towards the man delicately frosting my wife's birthday cake. He looked up at us once we where close by.

"Mr. Jackson." He gave me a curt, but friendly nod. Then he looked at Paisley. "Who is this little beauty?" My pride showed.

"My daughter, Paisley." I replied with a fat, toothy grin. Thankfully her hair had been pulled back into a curly puff atop her head, otherwise she might have gotten twigs in it—aka, the last thing anyone wants in a kitchen: nature.

"It's very nice to meet you, Miss Paisley." After giving her a kind smile he went back to icing the pale, sunshine yellow cake with white filigree.

"It looks amazing. Thank you again for doing this for me, I really appreciate you flying in from Paris."

"Oh, think nothing of it, Mr. Jackson. It's my pleasure. I was planning on coming to California soon anyway." His hands moved away from the cake, grabbing a tiny platform with a gradient bag of frosting that turned from red to pink.

"Oh, how convenient." Before our eyes he created a small rose out of frosting - it looked so real! "Wow! Paisley, look at that!" The pastry chef put the icing bag down, grabbing a pair of small craft scissors, opened them and plucked the buttercream rose off the tiny, metal platform.

"Can I see her hand?" He asked me. I blinked, momentarily confused.

"Sure, of course." I held out the back of her hand as he gently placed the rose on.

"A rose for a princess." He said and went back to work on his edible art piece.

"Aw, what do we say? Say 'thank you', PJ? Yes." My baby voice had come out and a few people in the kitchen noticed to my slight embarrassment. Blushing, the two of us exited the kitchen to continue on our way to find Astoria.

As we walked through another hall Paisley held her hand at arms length, not knowing what to do with the pink rose now stuck on her hand. How cute is that? I set her down on her feet and crouched down to her level. "You lick it. Like this!" I took her hand and licked a small corner of the rose, making an 'mmm' sound to follow. She looked skeptical with her hazel eyes narrowed at me. Eventually she licked her hand and discovered the wonder of sugar, but hopefully it won't keep her up for too long tonight... I have plans for a more intimate celebration for her mother and I.

We walked up the stairs together, hand in hand, but not for long as she got tired of climbing them. Picking her up once more, we came to the study doors, knocking lightly just in case.

"Ash?"

"Yes? Come in." I walked into the study, finding her sitting at my desk with papers spread out across it. I should have known that when she said she only had to make a couple calls that she was fibbing.

"Come on, Ash. It's your birthday, you shouldn't be working." Just then Paisley shoved her fist into her mouth. My eyes widened. "Also, on another note... I think our child has evolved into a sugar monster thanks to the Parisian Patisserie Chef I hired to make your birthday cake." My wife looked up at me, then at our daughter. She chuckled, making Paisley look in her direction. She signed 'mom' repeatedly then.

"Ok, ok. You got me, I'll stop." She stood up from the desk, leaving everything where it was. As she walked towards me I couldn't help but admire her figure; she's blossomed since having Paisley, and I don't mean she's fat - it's quite the opposite. Ash had lost all the pregnancy weight by 10 months to a year tops after she had our little girl, but now... Damn. Her hips had become a bit wider, accentuating her hourglass figure that she'd already had to begin with. And her ass- Shoot! Mama should have named me Randy! She took our daughter from me in the nick of time - I shouldn't have been letting my mind wander like that while holding PJ. It's inappropriate.

The sound of snapping fingers reached my ears. I blinked. "Hmm?"

"Are you done drooling?" Astoria asked, smiling slightly. Paisley hugged on her mother contently, it was a heart-warming sight. My two girls...

"Yeah," I let out a small breath, scratching the back of my neck out of habit. "I'm good. Just admiring the wonderful people God put in my life." Ash clicked her tongue at me.

"Don't try and flip this on me, Michael. I know what you were 'admiring' just now." Her eyes went to our daughter as she fixed her little jacket that was riding up her torso. "It's your nap time, isn't it?" She turned her head back to me, "I'm going to take her to the nursery." Paisley already looked like she was dosing off in her mother's arms and it was beyond cute!

Do you think I'll ever get over how gosh darn cute my daughter is? Probably not until she's much older. Much, much older.

"Then you'll come get ready with me... Birthday girl?" A sly grin formed across my face. Yeah, I'm a bit horny, but in all honestly I'm just a guy in love who wants nothing more than to please his wife to the utmost on her birthday. Astoria playfully rolled her eyes at me in response.

"Yes, you silly man." We shared a quick, but meaningful kiss before she left the study. I felt so happy and excited that I could have clicked my heels in that moment. Life was perfect.

Astoria

It seemed Paisley was dozing off in my arms on the way to the nursery, I could feel her warm body going limp in my arms. The poor girl, all tuckered out from playing outside with Daddy.

The door was open to our destination, like normal. The walls were an inviting cream color accented with pale purples and spring greens in the remaining decor. Dark woods also finished the furniture in the room, including the rocking chair Mama K had given us at the baby shower Janet had thrown for me back in August, 1984.

I sat down, knowing she'd woken up just enough that we'd need a few moments more in the rocking chair to get her to sleep. Paisley loves this chair, I'm certain of it. We rocked gently together. I hummed a mindless, happy sounding tune before I had a thought breach my mind.

"Your Daddy sings to you, but your Momma is going to tell you some stories. Alright," I settled the two of us into the chair, feigning comfort against the wood as if it were a plush, high-backed chair. "Now I've told you how I met your lucky Daddy, but I never told you about our wedding..."

Monday, December 10th, 1984

"Janet?"

"Yeah?"

"What happened to my dress?" My lips were pulled tight, but it wasn't in anger, moreso a curiosity. I'd seen way too many crazy brides to allow myself to become one, so I stayed calm. After all, nothing was ever bound to go 100% the way it's intended too. Let alone the wedding of—god, I don't like calling us this even though it's true—two of the most famous people in the world. We've become household names in basically every country. It's such a strange phenomenon to try and wrap my head around, so I don't think about it much. I'm simply grateful.

Janet looked at the now medium blue dress I held in my hands then up to meet my eyes, her jaw fell slightly. It wasn't her specific job to watch my dress, but I was wondering if she knew anything.

"Oh dear God." Her mouth opened and closed a couple times before Jan continued. "Ash, I have no idea what happened—" I began laughing. My hand was held up for her to stop explaining herself.

"Jan–" I chuckled a bit more, "Woo! This is a bridesmaid dress!" Watching her face initially contort at my joke made my laughter come back momentarily. Then she laughed along with me.

"Don't do that to me, Astoria!" She pointed an accusing finger at me, "You really had me goin' there for a moment."

"Yeah, I did!" After a moment we hugged each other, looking into the giant wall mirror in the suit—it was difficult not too look into it—gazing at each other in disbelief.

"You're gonna be my sister. My actual sister." I blinked at her words, still in mild disbelief of everything that was finally happening.

"Yeah. I'll finally have siblings." Just then the door opened, revealing Brinley and Mary Anne, shuffling in, dress bags in hand. "Hey, you guys finally wake up?" I teased. Brinley looked like she could have slept a few hours more, if her scowl was any indication.

"You're marrying Michael Jackson... I can't fucking believe it." Brin replied.

"Yeah... Only he's just Michael to me. My man." Suddenly it all sank in, my brain felt like it popped a fuse. "Holy shit." I slowly sat down in a chair, trying to get a grasp on the world once again. "Well, you have a point, Brin." Mary Anne's voice hit my ears from across the room.

"Brinley, you need to leave your attitude at the door. Today is a wonderful day, and I'll not have you ruining it for everyone because of your recent bitterness." She unfolded her makeup trolly.

"Bitter?" That snapped me out of whatever spiral I'd begun running down. "Why the hell are you bitter?" She stopped what she'd been doing, turning around to face me with a conflicted expression. Brinley's hands gripped the table behind her with white knuckles. Her eyes immediately went to Janet.

"You cannot, tell any of your family. Do you understand?" Her voice had become menacingly low. Jan blinked at her, confused and yet intrigued at her words, completely unaffected by her tone of voice.

"Ok."

"Randy and I... We had a recent, encounter." She closed her eyes tightly, probably wanting to cry. I stood up from the chair, walking over to her as my brain began to fear the worst. I grabbed one of her hands, holding it in both of mine.

"Did he hurt you, Brin?" She shook her head 'no'.

"No, we–" She sniffed, putting her free hand up to her face. "Everything was completely consensual. He didn't hurt me, Randy couldn't. He's wonderful, it's just–" Mary Anne came over, putting a hand on her shoulder. Janet came closer too, but she doesn't know Brinley that well, so she kept a respectful distance.

"You can tell us, Brin. It's ok." Mary Anne assured her. Tears had began falling down Brinley's face.

"I don't mean to take away from your special day, Astoria. I'm so sorry!" Mary Anne and I naturally wrapped her in a hug as she cried against us.

"Shh, it's ok. Don't worry about me, Brin. We're here for you, honey." It's just another day. Am I getting married? Yes. Is my friend clearly in distress? Also yes. Who says I can't take care of both. Soon, after crying for a couple minutes she came to and began to tell us what in the world was bothering her so much.

"It was about a month and a half ago... I called him in a moment of weakness - of loneliness. We met up and -" Her eyes again flickered to Janet. She's Randy's little sister after all, this might be a little awkward to admit in front of her. "And we, you know. Now, I'm -" She couldn't get the words out, but now we knew exactly what she was talking about.

"You're pregnant." Mary Anne whispered. Brinley nodded as more tears fell against her hot face. 

"We're here for you, you know that. Always." I told her, still holding her in my arms with Mary Anne. Janet spoke up just then.

"You know, I think it's wonderful. And if my brother reacts negatively - well, we all make mistakes - but I know the rest of the family will be thrilled, including myself." Brinley smiled at her.

"You think so?"

"I know so." Brinley let go of Mary Anne and I, closing the gap between her and Janet for a warm hug as she whispered to her. "Thank you."

Present time

"And that's how Stevanna, your little cousin came into this world..." I looked down, she's fast asleep. I slowly got up from the rocking chair, maneuvering like a professional spy until I was able to lay her down in her crib. Leaning on the rail of her wooden crib, it was difficult not to gaze at my sleeping daughter. She's grown so much in the last year and a half, I can hardly believe it. It doesn't help that she looks like a little angel sent from above... 

With a small, content sigh, I moved away from the crib. Tiptoeing out of the nursery I passed the nanny we'd hired for busy days such as these, giving the sweet older woman a wave as I left. She was sitting in another chair, knitting what looked like a pair of mittens possibly. Wrong season for mittens currently, but it's never too soon to start making and shopping for Christmas.

Michael and I's personal section of the house was right down the hall of the nursery, not very far away at all. I didn't need to knock on the double doors as it opened up to a room that worked more as a personal living room - we used it for multiple things, reading, making love, personal quiet time, whatever really. The living room was the second level, going down was our bedroom, master bath, and our walk-in closet. If Michael acquires any more clothes we're gonna need another closet, or I can simply make him go through his things. 

Unsurprisingly, the doors to our closet were open. Faintly, one could hear the sound of different articles of clothing being flung around and to the ground. What now, I wondered.

"Michael?" I walked up to the closet. Low and behold there were articles of clothing strewn all about, but mostly on the floor. I'd just finished organizing this room yesterday, so seeing this mess diminished the feeling of a job well-done that I'd been holding onto for just a little longer. "What are you doing to our poor closet? I had everything perfect!" It sounds a bit dumb, but I wanted to cry while looking at the mess. Sadly, I don't get to do much in the way of household chores anymore, so this was a big deal to me. Still... It is just a closet. I blew a piece of hair out of my face, crossing my arms and leaning against the door frame. He finally turned, looking at me with the most sheepish of expressions.

"Sorry, Ash. I couldn't find this one thing -" He stopped, my stupid emotions getting the better of me as a tear fell from my eye. He was quick to come my way, but I held up a hand for him to stop.

"I'm fine. It's just a closet and I'm being emotional." I wiped my face, "I don't know why I'm feeling every little thing so intensely today either!" Michael blinked at me, crossing his own arms like mine.

"You're period should start in what? Two days?" He spoke so nonchalantly about my menstrual cycle like it was such a regular thing for him to do - which it is not.

"How do you even know?" I asked, confused by his sudden bounty of knowledge about my uterus. Michael just shrugged.

"You're my wife. Is there any other reason I wouldn't know?" My face contorted at him. I wanted so badly to scoff at him just then, because not even two years ago he didn't know squat about my uterus...

Thursday, February 14th, 1985

The Ranch

9:34 PM

I groaned loudly, covering my head with the covers of our bedspread. This was the shittiest time in the world to have my period, Valentine's Day. Well, Aunt Flo had other ideas in store for me apparently. Curled up in the fetal position in my red pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt, I held the heating pad to my lower abdomen. I'd already taken the recommended amount of Maximum Strength Midol, now it was time to let it kick in and pray my good friend, Heating Pad, could help me out as well. 

I heard the door click softly open then close once more. It had to be Michael, he was getting Paisley down for the night in the nursery across the hallway like he enjoys doing so much. Not that I could see much light to begin with from under the comforter and sheet, but the lighting in the room changed suddenly. Of this much I'm certain. That was the first thing that alerted me that my husband was up to something. The second thing was the music. He'd put Al Green on the record player, nothing completely unusual for him to do. Al Green is our music, so it made perfect sense because he played it fairly often anyway. Then the was the sound of a match striking the side of a matchbox and catching flame - it's an unmistakable sound. This sound happened twice.

It seemed that focusing on what he was doing from beneath the blankets was diverting my attention from the pain I was feeling. It helped more than I thought it would have. 

There was an organic ripping sound, followed by a flutter across the bedspread. That was it. I had to know what the heck he was doing! I flipped back the covers of the bed suddenly, exposing myself to the goings-on that surrounded me. Michael let out a little yelp of surprise from his spot standing at the foot of our bed. Getting over his surprise, my eyes wandered around our room.

"I didn't know you were under there..." He said quietly. I heard him, but didn't respond at first as I took in my altered surroundings.

The lighting had been