Chapter Text
Wendy's Pov
I was just going to my niece’s class like any other Tuesday. I did not expect this moment to cause my life to take such a huge turn.
The bell rings. I’m late… I shake my head as I turn the corner. I run into someone, and my camera flies across the hallway. I bend down to pick it up, but before I can grab it, someone is doing it for me. I look up. A boy is standing in front of me. Brown and curly hair, brown eyes, black loafers,white socks, black dress pants, and a blue sweater. He hands the camera back to me.
“Thank you.” I mumble awkwardly.
I know who is standing in front of me, but for that moment, he isn’t Michael Jackson. He is just a boy trying to make his way around a school. He looks confused.
“Are you trying to find a certain room in the school?” I blurt out. Almost subconsciously. Like he is any other person I have ever run into in the hallway.
His face relaxes a bit, but I can still see the tension in his clenched jaw.
“Yes actually. I’m looking for room C13” I smile. That is the class that my niece is in.
“Well, I’m headed there for a class that I am now…” I check the time on my watch. “Seven minutes late for.”
He looks guilty. Like it is his fault that I am late.
“Oh, I’m sorry for bumping into you.” I furrow my brows in confusion.
“I ran into you.” His expression softens.
“I like your accent.” I feel even more confused, but I can feel a smile creeping at my lips.
“Thank you.” I love it when people notice that I’m British.
“It reminds me of Wendy from “Peter Pan.” I chuckle.
“I like you."
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t treat me like I’m an object.” The puzzle pieces in my brain suddenly all click into place. He continues on, “But I just have one question. How old are you?”
“That’s super random, but I’m twenty.” His face shifts back to that guilty look.
“Sorry. I just wondered, because you definitely look over eighteen, so I’m guessing you’re not a student here.” I dramatically put my hand over my heart.
“Wow. I’ve aged that badly?” He laughs. It isn’t loud or attention seeking. It just isn’t the kind of laugh I’ve seen him put on for people in interviews. I continue, “I’m here to watch my niece. I promised her that I would come and watch her perform "I Want You Back” since her mother couldn’t come.” Mr. Jackson smiles at me.
“Her name’s Millie, right?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I’m here to surprise her. Mrs. Schiltz, her teacher, asked me to come in.”
“Well, we better hurry or we’re going to miss her.” We run to her classroom. He pauses outside the door.
“Shoot! I forgot I was supposed to disguise myself.” I look at his sweater, and my hoodie.
“We could switch tops.” I regret what I said immediately. “Wait nevermind. Stupid idea, sorry.”
“We might need to. And it’s not stupid.”
“I think there’s a bathroom down the hall. If we hurry, we might make it.”
I look down the hall, and run. I run like my life depends on it. I am not going to miss seeing my niece sing. Mr. Jackson follows me, and before I know it, we are back outside the classroom door in each other's shirts. I open the door quietly, but apparently it isn’t quiet enough because EVERYONE in that room stares at us as we walk inside. I can see Millie peeking out from behind a curtain that was set up in the front of the room. Mr. Jackson looks ridiculous. He has a red hoodie on, with dress pants, loafers, and sunglasses. It takes everything in me not to laugh. Millie walks out onto the little makeshift stage they had made, and begins singing. I turn slightly, and can see Mr. Jackson’s jaw has dropped.
He leans in and whispers to me, “She’s REALLY good.”
I chuckle a bit.
“I know.” He leans back in, closer this time.
“She probably gets it from you.” He turns back to watch Millie finish performing. Leaving me feeling very flustered because yes, she most definitely gets it from me. No one else in our family are even remotely good singers. Once Millie finishes, Mr. Jackson and I walk to the front of the room to congratulate her. She runs into my arms, and I spin her around. Once she is back on the floor, Michael takes off the hood and glasses.
“Hi Millie.”
Millie bursts into tears on the spot. Michael Jackson has been the person she looks up to even since she was two years old. I hate to admit it, but she got into his music because of me. I have always been a huge fan. He opens his arms for her, and she melts into the hug.
“Michael,” She whispers into his chest. “I love you… so much.” He smiles, and it is genuine too. I can tell.
“I love you too.”
He signals for Bill, his bodyguard, to bring whatever he has planned into the room. He presents Millie with a signed copy of “I Want You Back”. She slips out of his hug, and runs back into my arms.
“How is he here, Aunt Wendy?”
“Well, I think Mrs. Schiltz made the arrangement.” She looks back at me.
“You look like you’re hiding something again. What is it?” I hate it when she can see right through me.
“I’m moving to L.A. tomorrow.” Mr. Jackson smiles. I can see it out of the corner of my eye.
“Good.”
“What?”
“I see you ALL the time.”
“Why is that a bad thing?”
“Because it’s easier for mama to make excuses to not come watch me in things if you’re always there.”
“Well, I think this will be the last time I see you for a while so…” I pause, trying not to cry. “I love you babygirl.”
“I love you too.”
Mr. Jackson and I walk out of the classroom. Once we exit the school, I begin to make my way towards the subway station.
Mr. Jackson calls after me, “Where are you going?” I turn around.
“I’m just heading to the subway.”
“No.”
“What?”
“Not if I can help it. You’re too pretty to be taking the subway.”
“Mr. Jackson, I take it everywhere. Plus, I need to finish packing up my stuff.” He smiles at me.
“Please, call me Michael. And, I’m going back to L.A. tomorrow anyway, so I can give you a ride home, and then give you a ride on my private jet.” My jaw drops.
“Michael, we just met! You do not have to do this!”
He takes my hand in his. I can feel the redness rising in my cheeks.
“I want to do this.”
I eventually give up on being stubborn with him, and get in the silver car that Bill is holding the door open to.
“Are you hungry? Do you need any food?”
He raises an eyebrow, letting me know that no is not an answer. To be honest I am starving, so I appreciate the offer.
“I could go for some mexican.” Michael nods.
“Bill, please take us to a nice mexican place.”
Bill replies from the front seat.
“You got it.”
Michael turns back to me.
“I never asked your name.”
“I’m Wendy, if you didn’t already hear from Millie.”
“Ahh. Now it makes so much more sense why you laughed at my Wendy comment.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I think we’re here so…” Michael turns to open the door, but I stop him.
“I don’t think that going into a mexican restaurant at around five p.m. with people around is a very good idea.”
Bill turns around in his seat. “I think she’s right, Joker. I’ll go order and pick up the food. Just tell me what you want to get, and I’ll grab it.”
Michael protests, but Bill shuts him down. We tell him what we want, and he leaves the car. Michael immediately turns to face me.
“I’m sorry if my offer of taking you to California seemed too forced, or like I was forcing you to come.” I giggle.
“I mean, you kinda were.” He balls his hands into fists in his lap, and looks at the floor.
“Sorry.” I take his hands in mine, and turn his head to face me.
“I’m glad you did.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He still looks a bit unsure, but his jaw is no longer clenched. Bill walks back to the car, and opens the door.
“Am I interrupting?” We both pull away.
“No Dad. We were just talking.”
Dad? I’m guessing Bill is a father figure then. Bill passes us the food, and we begin to dig in.
Michael looks up from his food to mine. “What’d you get?”
“I got the enchiladas.” His eyes widen as he looks back at his tacos.
“You should dip it into guacamole.” I can feel my nose scrunch up in disgust.
“Ew, no way.” He grabs the guacamole out of his box, and pours a bit into mine.
“Trust me. It’s good.”
I roll my eyes, but reluctantly pick up an enchilada and dip it into the guacamole. I close my eyes as I chew, and tilt my head back.
“This is so good!”
“See? I told you it would be.”
Bill turns around.
“Joker, we have to leave to go back to L.A. at four a.m., and you still need to finish packing.”
“I promised Wendy we would take her to L.A. since she’s moving.”
“Are we going to be able to fit all of her things?”
I pipe in, “I have a really small apartment, so there’s not much in it.”
“Well, as long as it’s not too much, we will come pick you up at three thirty a.m. sharp.”
I step out of the car quietly.
“Ok, thank you so much, both of you!”
Bill replies, “Of course, Ms. Bell.” I look at him confused.
“How do you know my last name?”
“It said it on your work badge.”
“Oh, well please call me Wendy.”
“Nope! I am a very old fashioned man. You are a young lady. It’s Ms. Bell to me.” I giggle.
“Ok, see you guys in a few hours!” Michael rolls down his window as they drive away.
“Bye!”
I step into my apartment, and quickly run to the phone. I dial the numbers to my best friend, Ella. She picks up after two rings.
“Hello?”
“Ella! You will not believe what just happened!”
“What?”
“I’m flying to L.A. with Michael Jackson!”
“Oh my God.”
“I know!”
“This is so exciting!!!”
“I’m leaving in a few hours, so I need to finish packing.”
“Ok, see you! Have funnnn!” I giggle at the comment.
“Bye, love you.”
“Love you too.”
I put the phone back on the wall, and finish packing the rest of my very few belongings. I stuff them into a total of two boxes, minus my clothes, and check the time. It’s two a.m. Still one and a half more hours until I can see Michael again. I sit down on the couch, and watch the Thriller music video for the third time this week. Eventually, I see the familiar silver vehicle pull up, and I grab my two boxes. Bill is waiting for me at the trunk, and he helps me put them in the back. I quickly run back inside to grab my two suitcases, and hand them to Bill. I open the door to the car, and step inside. Michael’s face lights up when he sees me.
“Wendy!”
“Hi Michael!”
“I missed you!” I giggle.
“It’s only been a couple hours.”
“A couple hours too long.”
“Oh my god, you are so ridiculous."
“Hey!”
“I’m joking Michael.”
I nudge him in the shoulder. He blushes slightly.
“Oh, right.”
I decide to play into it.
“You get flustered really quickly huh?” He blushes even more, forming a light pink color on his nose and cheeks.
“I mean, I’ve been told that before.”
“Makes sense. You’ve been blushing a lot lately.”
He snaps back, “No I haven’t!”
I turn around, making sure Bill isn’t watching. I lean in, and kiss his cheek gently. I pull back, and see that he looks even more flustered than before.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry Michael, I shouldn’t have…” He cuts me off. His lips move against mine. Intentionally. Purposefully. I kiss back just as intentional. His hands move to my waist as I let my tongue explore his mouth. I find a sensitive spot, and he lets out a soft moan in the back of his throat. Suddenly Bill walks back to the car and opens the door. We quickly get off of each other, and try to hide the fact that we were just making out. Although I'm pretty sure he can tell.
"You two ready to head to the airport?"
I open my mouth to reply, but Michael does it for me.
"Yes. We are ready."
Bill starts the car.
"Let's get this show on the road."