"Now remember what I told you, Judi. Don't get all Hollywood on us just 'cause you're interviewin' big time celebrities now. I want you to stay true to yourself, people up north can be very hard to get along with." Judith's mother lectured as Judith lifted another box and placed it into the back of her van.

"Nothing's gonna change ma. I'm still little ol' me." She responded with a shrug as her mother approached her with teary eyes. "I ain't say to downplay yourself now girl. You's gonna be the biggest writer there ever was. And I'm gonna miss my baby." Her voice cracked a bit as she spoke, moments of displaying emotion like this were rare for her mother.

Finally, they shared one last hug and her mother placed a soft, endearing kiss on Judith's forehead before she set off towards California.

As soon as Judith reached Hollywood, she experienced an immediate culture shock. The sidewalks were crowded, traffic was tight, and the people driving on the road were even tighter. By the time she had reached the magazine company, she'd already been honked at at least 5 times.

As she entered, she began to feel intimidated, under-prepared, and completely underdressed. She begun to think that perhaps she misinterpreted the severity of this interview, was the guy really that big of a star?

She passed women in nice dresses and blazers, and men in tailored suits and fancy shoes, she felt completely out of place with an afro, daisy-duke shorts, a floral top with flared sleeves and her brown boots that were evidently worn out.

But nevertheless, she approached the front desk and for a while— the front desk clerk just stared at her blankly before speaking. "I'm sorry, did you need something?" The woman asked, scanning Judith up and down. "I'm Judith Nelson. Here 'bout my interview with... Mr. Jackson?" Her Kentucky drawl was beginning to slip out from how nervous she was feeling.

"Ah, yes, down that hallway— second door to your left. Has everything you need to prepare. We're expecting Mr. Jackson to arrive in a little over twenty minutes."Judith's eyes widened, she had done most of her preparation and research while on the road but somehow still felt unprepared. She was a perfectionist in that sense.

Judith thanked the clerk and headed over to the room where she found a table with a notepad with her name engraved on the front of it in a cursive font alongside a black pen and a paper with topics that they wanted her to bring up written on it. She narrowed her eyes at the paper, unsure if he'd feel comfortable with a random interviewer prying into his personal life like they expected her to.

Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing a girl, who appeared to be around Judith's age, in a frantic state. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't even see you there." The girl spoke, realizing she was somewhere she wasn't meant to be. "It's alright. I was just lookin' around anyway."

"Oh shit that's right, you're the girl whose interviewing the Michael Jackson." Judith let out a sigh she hadn't even noticed she was holding in. "Jesus, this guy must really be a superstar."

"Wait... you don't know him?" Judith hesitantly shook her head no. "Oh girl, there's so much you need to know and I have time today. Consider it a favor from your new friend. I'm Edith." The girl said with a grin, extending her hand for her to shake it. "I'm Judith."

"Pretty name, Judith. Now, you're gonna wanna write everything I say down." Edith said as she began her tangent.

After about fifteen minutes, Judith knew almost everything there was to know about Michael Jackson thanks to Edith (except for how he looked). And now she finally felt prepared. Judith knew she was a great writer but she didn't let it get to her head, she wanted every piece she wrote to be good. No, not good, great.

And soon, a man entered the room, he had a beautiful brown complexion and sported jheri curls that he parted to the side. And his style and kind smile made him even more attractive. Oblivious, Judith approached him, "Excuse me, sir. Do you have any clue when Michael will get here? I'm here for an interview with him."

Suddenly, the man began to chuckle— and then laugh and Judith slowly realized who he was. "Oh, god..." She muttered in embarrassment, "I am so sorry, Mr. Jackson I really am." She apologized profusely as he shook his head. "No, no. Don't apologize, it's nice not to be known for once. And please, call me Mike."

"Well, hi Mr. Jacks— I mean, Mike, it's really nice to meet you. Truly a pleasure. I'm Judith." She introduced herself, holding out her hand for him to shake. Caught off guard a bit, he hesitantly shook it. "Why do ya' look so surprised? Never had no southern hospitality before?"

"No, actually, people out here are pretty rude." He said with a laugh. For a moment, Judith just observed how his face lit up when he smiled or laughed, his smile was overly contagious and comforting. "I'm ready to begin whenever you are, Mike."

"Sure thing, Judith."