"there's something called trust."
-
Lulu.
Girl you walk around, with your head up in the sky yes you do now...
Sighing in awe, I dreamily gazed outside of my window, mumbling the words of Jermaine's most favoured song on the recently released album which was ironically called 'Jermaine'. I had gotten my father to purchase it a month ago, innocently out of excitement and also curiosity as it was his first solo album. Furthermore, instead of hearing him singing backing vocals and partially lead too, I wanted to actually hear him sing more of lead. And from what I heard, he was an absolutely amazing singer. He had that kind of soulful, sultry voice. I loved it and in general, the album was perfection. It wasn't the fact that he aided me with a jacket a day ago, it was more of the fact that I already had an interest for him-but I did anyway for all of the Jacksons. Alright, I couldn't stop thinking of the fact that he gave me his jacket (even whilst I was trying to sleep). Unfortunately, I had to keep the leather jacket in a perfect hiding place of my wardrobe so no interrogation would occur-obviously from my parents. Although it was the Jermaine of the Jackson 5, it wouldn't matter at all. My parents didn't judge over status, whether high or low. They'd see him as a boy who was 'trying it on with me' giving me a jacket out of a way that they didn't approve of at all.
I still couldn't wait to attend their concert so I'd be able to view them performing their songs, including the ones that I desired the most. I felt as if I were living a lush life, having already hung out and conversated with the Jacksons and flirtatiously-sneakily- receiving a number from one of them. My heart and thoughts were erratic-if only he had managed to possess my number, it would be less awkward than me calling him. But I knew I'd have to inject confidence into myself and call him-why would he have given me his number? Apart from slyly hinting of how I would return his jacket. He just had this way of getting to you and trapping you-something you couldn't resist.
"Ready to go?" My father entered my room, a small smile on my face. Quickly, I took the needle off the record, instantly getting the feeling that my father would be suspicious of me playing a Jermaine Jackson record. Although that was highly doubtful, I was too prudent of my surroundings-I couldn't let anyone know that a Jackson was being sweet to me or I was sweet on them.
Today, my father was escorting me to Savannah Morning News' office to type up my story. Last night, he and my mother told me that they were completely proud of me as I was pursuing my dream-and that made me happy. Most of all, at least they were focusing on the fact of my aspiration of a career rather than the beautiful Jackson 5. I was already informed by Anthony that Clyde had sent all of the photos and what was needed now for the interview to enter all sorts of papers, I needed to give them my story. I was a little frightened but once this was over, maybe I could relax without any nerves and worries.
I nodded and gathering my items, I followed him outside of the house and into his car-as soon as he started the engine, I felt my jumping nerves overwhelming me. I kept on thinking of the worst of this situation. What if they laughed at me and told me that the story was boring and bland-it couldn't make the papers? Getting a direct honest insult from Anthony would kill me but from the editors would hurt me even more. I do believe that my father did notice my apprehensive attitude, partially a reason why both of us weren't involved in much discussion. He gave me an assuring smile, reaching over to lay a hand on my shoulder briefly. It put me at ease but it still didn't relieve my anxiety-especially when I realised he had parked outside of our destination.
Lulu, do you know how many girls would die to be in your position? Get yourself together!
✿
