~Please read the authors note at the end! Enjoy!~

I met Michael Jackson back in 1984 when I was working backstage as one of the assistant stage managers for Mike Hirish on The Jacksons Victory Tour. 

It started out as a simple job, just following Hirish around as he pointed out things that needed to be fixed. Problems with lighting, sound, placement of instruments and the sorts. But one day Hirish was overwhelmed with the amount of work needed to be done to throw this tour together, and he didn't have time to take notes during the rehearsal so he asked, or more forced, me to sit in the audience as rehearsal went on.

I watched as all of the Jacksons had entered the stage and begun rehearsing. I quickly realized why Michael was the star of the show. The way he moved on stage with confidence, his voice cutting through so clearly, so strongly. His demeanor changing for whatever emotion was need to be emitted for a song. He really did deserve all eight of those Grammys. Damn.

But I also saw the perfectionist that was in him. His brothers voiced their concerns about things a few times during rehearsal. But Michael would make a comment almost every chance he could. 'The lights need to be brought up, here' or 'something sounds funny with the bass' and on and on. I swear, I had at least ten pages written up by the time we were done.

I didn't get to really talk to him though, not until our first full dress rehearsal July 1, 1984 in Birmingham. I was checking to make sure everything was set and when I was done I still had ten minutes till we started. I went out to one of the backstage rooms to get a glass of water and collapsed onto a couch. But a soft voice broke me from my break and I shot up, coming face to face with Michael. My water spilled all over me and he burst out in laughter.

I was so embarrassed and he apologized for laughing the minute he saw the raging blush on my face. He grabbed me one of his button up shirts and turned around as I changed into it. When I was finished we just got to talking. 

Him questioning why I was in his dressing room and me asking about the show. That night I learned so much about him. 

We both felt so comfortable with each other even though we had never spoken prior to our meeting. He told me about his problems with his brothers, how he didn't want to do the tour but wanted to help his family. I tried to console him as much as I could and help him throughout the rest of the tour.

But after that night Michael wanted me by his side, always. I apparently made a good lasting impression, so he talked to Frank Dileo, his new manager, and I soon became Michael's assistant. I came with him everywhere. I travelled with him to press conferences, to award shows, to the Captain EO set, anywhere he wanted me to be.

We got closer as time went on. Ours lives intermingling together as we learned more about each other. We would sneak around going to stores in disguise and would prank Frank whenever we could. He became my best friend, and I his. I can't lie, I had a bit of a crush on him. But I never voiced it, because from what I could see, he only saw me as his best friend. Almost like a sister. But being by his side, girlfriend or not, was enough for me.

But soon everything changed.

When we started working on the Bad video.

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~Helmsley Palace Hotel, November 1986 New York~

       "What if it's not as good as Thriller?" Michael spoke worriedly with a slight slur in his voice. I raised my head from its dropped position and looked up to him in disbelief.

       "Are you crazy? Man! This album is gonna be topping charts!" I cried out drunkenly. Crawling over to his spot on the floor and throwing myself to his side, wrapping a supportive arm around his neck. I wore one of his white button ups that reached to my thighs and a pair of shorts underneath. The white sleeve hit his face and he laughed.

       "Look how hard you've worked Mike!" I waved my hand around before taking a sip of my drink and setting it onto the small coffee table in front of us. I proceeded to rest my head onto his shoulder. Or more like collapsed onto his shoulder.

I'll be honest, not my brightest moment. But at least I'm right.

We were a week or so into shooting and Michael and I were camped up in his suite at the Helmsley Palace Hotel in New York. I forced Jeffrey Daniel and Caszper Canidate, two of the people helping Michael choreograph the video, to go and rest. Michael had been up all day shooting and all night dancing. He needed a break and we both knew it.

Michael was so stressed out about his 'Bad' album not reaching the same height as 'Thriller.' He wanted every number to get higher and higher. He wanted to always be getting better. And although I think it's good for a person to have that drive, it made me worry for Michael because he barely got any sleep because of how much he was working.

When I was up in his room with him he was pacing so much that it reached 12:30 am and he was still up and about. So I made him a small drink. Just a glass of whiskey, something he rarely drank, but still enjoyed.

I was quite the lightweight and got drunk pretty quickly, and soon Michael followed.

       "You really think that?" Michael questioned as he wrapped his arms tightly around me. I lifted my head to look at him but he just as quickly nuzzled his face into my neck and I shivered at his touch. 

Thank god for the booze, or else I would be a mess.

       "Of c...course I do, you're amazing Mike," I stuttered. I felt his lips curl up into a smile against my neck. His large hands squeezing at my sides as he pulled me closer to him.

       "What would I do without you Y/N/N," His mumbled against me. I froze as his voice vibrated against my neck. My heart began to race.

       "Crash and burn?" I joked with a laugh that soon fell flat as he pressed a soft kiss against the crook of my neck. I froze.

       "Something like that," He spoke softly as he began to nip at my neck. My heart was pounding rapidly against my chest and my breathing deepened as he continued. Although in the back of my mind I knew we should stop, my drunken state masked my rationalization.

I had been pushing all of my feelings for him away but when his lips touched my skin I couldn't find the will in me to stop.

He began to move and soon I felt his arms curl underneath my legs and his large left hand resting at my back. He stood up, holding me tightly in his arms and carried me towards his bedroom.

I looked up at him and saw his messy curls hanging beside his face, his red shirt unbuttoned by the first few buttons and a loose tie hanging around his neck. His deep brown eyes bore into me, filled with a lust that made my body heat up in his arms.

He glanced away from me for only a moment as he pushed his bedroom door open with his foot. I barely remember what the room looked like but I recall the grand bed he rested me on. The soft sheets my back pressed against as Michael crawled over me.

He rested his large hands on my knees and pushed them apart as he replaced the empty space with his body. His hands soon moving to either side of my head as he looked down at me.

Our breaths deepened as we gazed at each other. Both of us, almost unsure, of where this was going but not wanting to part from each other. So we just stayed there, our hot breaths mingling between us as we waited for one of us to act.

I couldn't believe this was happening, but my mind was in a drunken fog and I couldn't determine if it was a dream or not. A burst of confidence filled me and I grabbed his tie and pulled his lips to mine.

Michael's hips rocked against mine and his whole body shivered at the feeling of me against him. But I couldn't stop thinking about how soft his lips felt, and the sparks that were flying between us. I could taste a mixture of whiskey and mint as he licked my bottom lip, almost begging for entrance, and believe me, I gave it to him.

We soon fell into an almost frantic state of unbuttoning each others shirts. Our arms getting tangled up as we tried to reach each other. I wanted to pull his tie over his head but he wouldn't allow our lips to part so I untied it and threw it to the side.

I undid button after button of his shirt until I could slide it over his shoulders. I could tell he was struggling with my shirt and soon he parted our lips for a moment as he ripped the shirt apart down the center and the buttons went flying onto the floor. We both sat up as we pulled our shirts off and discarded them to the side. 

Thank god, I had a black bra on. I knew my matching set would come in handy someday.

I laid back against the bed, trying to pull Michael with me but he stopped me. He gripped my hands and pressed them to either side of my head. I looked up to him confused. But I soon saw as his eyes ravaged me. He bit his lip and I felt nervousness rise in me, my confidence dispersing as a blush formed onto my face. I looked over to the side with an embarrassed smile.

I felt Michael's hand release from one of mine. He carefully pulled my face back to center so I looked him in the eyes. I felt too nervous to make eye contact and quickly looked away.

       "Y/N," He spoke deeply. "Look at me." He finished sternly but with care lacing his voice as his thumb ran over my cheek soothingly.

I took a deep breath and slowly moved my eyes to meet his. His gaze felt like he was looking straight through my facade and his eyebrows furrowed as my embarrassment was still quite evident on my features.

He wasn't satisfied with that.

       "Y/N," He repeated again. God, I'll never get tired of hearing that.

       "You," He started and began to trail his lips lower towards my chest. My breathing increased.

He placed a soft kiss over my heart and it felt like I was on fire.

       "Are," He spoke again but this time placing a kiss on the crook of my neck.

       "Beautiful," He whispered as he hovered over my lips.

He pressed our lips together and I felt my heart swell. His hands, my hands, our hands travelled all over each other. Neither of us seeming to get enough.

His lips began to travel down my neck, sucking and nipping at me. I stretched my neck out so he could have more access but he continued to move down further. And further. My hands found their way into his hair and I gripped tightly.

       "Michael," I moaned out before I pushed him over so he laid on his back.

He looked at me with widened eyes but I quickly crawled on top of him and began to kiss down his chest and he released a strangled moan as I trailed my finger over the line of his underwear. I reconnected our lips and grinded into him and I heard a deep growl escape his lips.

       "Gosh, Y/N," He moaned out between our kisses.

After that, I barely remember what happened. I can only vaguely remember his hands all over me, and calling out each others names throughout the rest of the night.

When I woke up the next morning I tried to stretch but found my hands pressed against something...

'Soft? Like...skin?'

I gasped quietly and placed a hand over my mouth as my eyes shot open. I carefully moved my face upwards to see Michael asleep above me. His arms were wrapped around my body as our legs were tangled together.

       "No way, no we didn't, we couldn't have, it was a dream...," I whispered to myself in a failing attempt to calm down.

I lifted the sheet and looked underneath.

       "Shit!" I gasped covering my hands over my eyes as the sheet fell back onto us. A thought invaded my mind and I knew I needed to get out of this bed before he woke up.

I steadied my breathing and pried my hands away from my eyes. I tried to get a better idea of my current predicament and rested a hand onto his bare bicep that was securely around my right shoulder.

I bit my lip anxiously as I began to lightly tug his arm away from mine. His arm moved inch by inch and almost off of me.

But then he moved.

I sucked in a breath as Michael's arm wound back around me and he pulled my tightly to him. A small protesting noise escaping his lips.

He's so cute, and he's so warm, maybe I could just stay here a bit longer...

"No, stop that Y/N," I chastised myself in a whisper. I tried to peer around his arms again and prayed that I would be able to find a way out.

But there was none.

I felt my heart began to race as realization dawned on me about what I would have to do.

I'd have to wake him up.

I took a deep breath and poked his chest.

       "Michael," I softly spoke. He shifted a bit.

       "Michael," I said a bit louder. He groaned and his arms tightened around me. I rolled my eyes as a small smile played on my lips.

       "Michael!" I called out loudly. He shot up in the bed, releasing me in the process. His eyes frantically searching the room. As he was distracted, I wrapped a blanket securely around me and scratched the back of my neck awkwardly.

       "What? What is it? What's wrong? Are you ok?" Michael spoke as he looked to me and placed his hands on my arms. His deeper grovely morning voice evident in the early morning.

His eyebrows were furrowed in concern as he looked to me. His big brown eyes travelled over my current state and then his current state. His eyes widened.

He pulled away quickly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed as he covered his mouth with his hand.

       "We...you and me...," Michael spoke, shocked, as he motioned a hand between us.

       "I...think so," I spoke quietly, my eyes beginning to water.

       "Wouldn't...wouldn't you know?" Michael stuttered in disbelief. I gave him a deadpan look and pulled the bed sheet closer to me.

       "Wouldn't you know? It takes two to tango Mike," I joked in retort. He put his head in his hands. I waited nervously beside him in a deathly silence, waiting for him to respond.

       "I remember," Michael spoke quietly. "I remember everything." He sighed out. The tone in his voice gave away everything and I felt my face heat up.

       "Oh god, I'm so sorry Mike, if you want to fire me I completely understand but can we still be friends? I mean we both didn't kno....," I rambled on in fear. What if he didn't want to see me anymore? I couldn't lose him.

       "Y/N," His voice spoke, cutting through mine. I sucked in a breath and nodded. I looked to him and saw his eyes boring into me. I could feel my body heat up at the reminder of the night before.

I nodded.

He sighed and bit his lip as he fidgeted, nervously? He stood up, holding the blanket securely around his waist and walked over to me. I tightened the sheet around me and watched as he sat down next to me on the bed.

       "Like I said, I remember everything," He spoke with a shaky voice. Not like he was going to cry, but in an anxious fit. Like he was going to say something bad.

Oh shit, he's going to fire me isn't he.

I prepared myself for the worst. I formulated my possible retorts. Why, he can't fire me.

       "And...I don't regret it," He spoke softly. "And...I'd like to do it again." He whispered shyly.

My eyes widened. I would never have expected him to say that. Especially, not to me.

       "W...What?" I stuttered out, my mouth dropping slightly in shock. He looked to me, biting his lip.

       "You don't have to," he told me, waving his hands in front of me. "Just...last night I slept better than I ever have, y...you helped me do that." He stuttered.

My eyes widened in the sudden realization.

       "You're talking about 'friends with benefits?'" I questioned him with a raised eyebrow. He put his face in his hands with a loud groan.

       "Gosh, don't say it like that," he mumbled, embarrassed. I felt a weight lift off of my chest and I laughed.

       "You know how I meant it," He laughed out. And I did.

Michael never got a good night's sleep. Ever. And although I could feel this making issues in the long run, I wanted him to finally be able to sleep at night. I always felt guilty hearing him pacing around the room at two in the morning when we were shooting at five.

And maybe it was for my own benefit to be closer to him. But isn't it a win-win situation then?

       "It wouldn't be a romantic thing, just...you know," He shyly spoke as he looked up to me. A rosy blush forming onto his cheeks making my heart swell. He continued to ramble on until I cut him off.

       "Ok Jackson," I bluntly spoke. His eyes shot to me in shock. I had to hold back the laughter crawling up my throat.

       "On one condition, we have to set up some ground rules," I told him sternly. He nodded frantically with a boyish smile on his face.

       "Let's get started."

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We wrote a full list of rules that night. Making our 'relationship,' if that's what you would call it, a reality.

Rule #1: Neither of us could tell one soul what was happening between us.

Rule #2: We only would meet at night unless specified, and planned, otherwise.

Rule #3: Our friendship would never be ruined by this agreement.

Rule #4: No hanging out with each other and calling it a 'date'

Rule #5: No developing feelings for each other.

Rule #6: Strictly sexual relationship and friendship, no romantic relationship.

And that night things started for us. At first we were shy about it, the alcohol being missing made things a bit more difficult. But over the next two weeks or so we became increasingly comfortable with our boundaries and with each other.

I couldn't help but feel more and more like I was going to break rule #5.

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~December, 1986 Bad Video~

~You know I'm bad, I'm bad, you know it!~

The music blasted as Michael and the dancers danced in the lone subway station. I watched with a small smile resting on my face. All the work that was done was paying off ten fold.

       "Alright let's take a break!" Martin Scorsese, the director, called out as the music cut out. 

I walked over to Michael as he talked with Wesley Snipes, who was playing Mini Max in the video.

       "Hey guys," I called out as I walked up to them. They both turned to face me and smiles spread across both of their faces. "You looked great up there Mike the choreo is amazing." I complemented with a wide smile. A blush formed on his cheeks and he crossed his arms shyly.

       "Thank you Y/N/N," He softly spoke.

       "But we