𝓫𝓮𝓭𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓪𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓷𝔂 ⎯⎯ ♡
part 2: BAD era michael jackson imagines, chronologically connected and (sometime) inspired by real-life MJ events, after you met him on the 1984 grammys night.
The train door slides shut behind him, almost cutting off the chaos happening outside moments ago. Tokyo Station had been in complete insanity, even by Michael's standards. People pushing against barriers, security yelling over each other, reporters trying to get closer, fans still screaming.
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All the excitement still follows him inside, through the corridor, mixed with the last wave of desperate fans outside still chasing the platform and the dozens of cameras flashing outside.
And through all of it, Michael had stayed perfectly composed. Smiling politely, signing autographs, leaning down for pictures, thanking people softly walking past passengers, until he finally reached the cabin, like this wasn't absolute madness. And like he wasn't internally spiraling because you hadn't shown up.
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Now, in his private cabin, he drops into the seat beside the window with a quiet exhale, sunglasses still on but his smile is gone, jaw tight enough to make it obvious he's upset about something. He takes off his blazer and puts on a varsity jacket to stay more comfortable, then takes off his shoes.
Bill stays near the door, arms crossed while he watches him carefully. "Don't worry, Joker," he says. "I'm sure everything's okay with her."
Michael finally leans his head back, exhaling slowly. "Oh, I'm sure it is."
Bill raises an eyebrow slightly.
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