I forgot to stress something on the introduction: all chapters are named after Michael Jackson, the Jackson 5 or the Jacksons' songs or sentences from them. When I complete the story, I'll update all the quotes with their songs and albums. This first chapter is mixed: a Jacksons' and a Michael's.

CHAPTER 1: WHO IS IT? SHE'S A DANCING MACHINE!

November 1982

If you wanted to find two words to describe Michael Jackson's mood in that moment, those ones would be "bored" and "tired".

He had been sitting on that damn chair for the last fourteen hours; he couldn't even feel his own arse anymore. The casting had started at 7:30 am, now, as the clock on the wall confirmed, it was 9:30 pm. This state of things had lasted a whole month now. A whole month, for a person of his energy, doing nothing but sitting on a chair for 14 hours a day! Too much for his nervous complexion. But he had to be hands on in everything he did, even the littlest detail, and finding a girl for this video was quite important. He needed the perfect girl. At least, those lost hours were hours in which he had not to see Joseph's face.

He yawned. Maybe it would be easier to choose a famous model, or even a singer, instead of looking for some unknown girl to get her in the light as a great dancer. His damn Prince-Charming complex! "A modern Cinderella" he murmured, lost in his own thoughts.

And she came in.

God's most perfect creature, this girl had to be. Tall, at least 1'70 metres to... 55 kilos? So slim, so slender, without being too thin. Her soft, silky black curls were tied to a ponytail on top of her head, and reached a little longer than her shoulders. Her jeans were as tight as a second skin, and their high waistband did nothing but to make more obvious, if possible, her minuscule waist and her flat, hard as a rock stomach. She was wearing a black, tight sleeveless T-shirt and two fingerless black gloves, reaching her elbows and adorned with leather ties and little, shiny metal pieces. The not-so-low cleavage spread out her breasts (size C at least), and showed her perfect shoulders and beautifully marked collarbone. Her nails were manucured in a creamy white, and were short despite the time's fashion. She wore black basketball Converse boots over her jeans, shoelaces rolled around her ankles. He noticed all these things while studying her carefully.

And then she danced, and very own Michael was stunned. She had the same gift he had received. Dancing, she became a goddess, sending her pure energy to the world and receiving its in exchange.

- Perfect! -he yelled when she stopped.- John! -he turned to his assistant- I want this girl at the rehearsals tomorrow. Go get the contract ready! Running! -Michael almost never raised his voice and much less shouted to anyone, but now he was completely hysterical. There was something about this girl, her aura... he was desperate to keep her near. He jumped onto stage.- Name? -he asked almost rudely, anxiety ridden.

- Jacqueline -she said, her voice the sweetest he'd ever heard.- But you may call me Jackie. I prefer it.

- Just like my brother-oh sorry! -fuck, he always had to screw things up!

- No problem, if you don't look at your brother the way you were looking at me! -she laughed openly, making the loveliest sound ever.

He blushed deeply. Nearer, she was even more perfect. Her skin was golden-tanned, altough her features were obviously of a white girl. Her perfect, little nose, her pointing cheekbones, her beautiful lips. She had perfect teeth, though -as a black girl would have had. Her great eyes were made-up with kohl, and mascara covered her long, thick, black lashes. Her iris were violet-blue, shining like some kind of magic firework, and reminded him of something...

- Do you have a place to stay? -he found himself asking.

- No. I just hopped on a train and came here today...

- Maybe, as you are now my prima ballerina, -she laughed at this- you'd like to stay at my place...

- Sure! -her eyes widened- It'd be so great!

"What are you doing?!" a voice in his head screamed. "What's Mother going to say?? What are the Elders of the Church going to say??" He didn't listen. Just helped her with her denim jacket and got her into his car.

- I don't like to drive -he confessed- but it's better than needing a chauffeur every time. Mother thinks I still can do it. Poor woman, she knows nothing... about anything.

- You now, we always think that mothers know less than they know... My mother never knew nothing about me, poor thing; she died giving me birth.

- Oh... I'm sorry. And what about yor father?

- Never knew him. I was adopted by my uncle, his wife was my mum's sister. She was only seventeen, while Aunt Rose was twenty-six and had a child of her own, too. So when her boyfriend dissapeared, she made her sister promise she would take care of us if something happened. And when mum died, she did so.

- Us?

- I'm a twin. Don't ask me where is she 'cause she's dead too. Bad neighbourhood; she was where she shouldn't be at the wrong time and she got stuffed with lead. She was sixteen, three years ago. You may call it accident or fate.

- Sorry. And I'm sincere, it's not just being polite...

- I know. You're always sincere. Know something? My family were Jehova's Witnesses, too. All but mum; she was rejected when she got pregnant. She never believed, actually.

- And what about you?

- I ran away, didn't I? I'm atheistic. Are you going to fire me?

- Nope, with a condition. You have to watch West Side Story with me.

- OK. Now, you tell me about your family.

- Too soon. Deep dark secrets, yunno. Who tells me you're not just some tabloider?

- I won't get offended, you're too hot...

He blushed roughly. They finally got home.

- This is not Hayvenhurst -she said as she descended.

- No. It's my pivate hideout. I can't get a girl home with Mother unless I marry her! When I wanna be nowhere to be found, I come here. Only my sis Janet knows where it is.

- So, you changed your mind, didn't you?

- 'Bout what?

- 'Bout trusting me.

- Well... yeah. But my family is... still a secret.

- I'm respectful. Shall we come in?

It was a little house, two staged. In the ground stage, there was a kitchen (a big American kitchen with a breakfast office) a little, comfy living room and a little library, plus the only, giant bathroom. The whole upper grond was a huge bedroom with a king-sized four poster bed and a jacuzzi. It was was surrounded by a garden.

- I love it! -she yelled happily, hugging him. Michael wondered whether what would she say if she saw Hayvenhurst, and in what kind of places had she been living in.

- Sure? Not too... boyish?

- No, no... it's just perfect. I love those books -she said, pointing vaguely towards the library- and these are my favourite colours. I'm sure Janet helped you.

- Haha yes indeed! -he laughed- I can't wait til you meet her... You girls are gonna love each other! Hum... dinner?

- Ah, but you cook?

- Only for very special people.

A few hours later, they were eating spaghetti carbonara and drinking Cherry Coke. And laughing, laughing a lot.

- So, all your brothers did it?

- Sure thing! I could tell you all of what they do in the heat of the moment... No, eally, they didn't do it to bother me, they didn't have another place... it's not like my father's behaviour.

- What did he do?

- I'll tell you... when I trust you more. Oh my gosh -he said, looking at his watch. - Mother's gonna kill me when I get home!

- Then go. I'll manage with the plates.

After thanking her a lot of times, he left. She washed all the plates and then went up to bed.

In the closet, she found a big T-shirt that most likely belonged to Michael and deep-breathed his scent. Woman's parfum? Yes, but also Michael's very own scent, which she had smelled while locked in a car with him. Something which mixed honey, cinnamon, rain, mint, apples,dark chocolate and wet Earth. Plus, he was wearing the same sweet parfum today, so she knew the T-shirt was his.

She dropped her clothes until she was as naked as the day she was born, then she put on the T-shirt. It was quite oversized, from a Queen Concert; as far as she loved the band, she was happy.

Laughing wickedly, she picked up the phone, wishing that Michael would answer it. But if not, she had a lie prepared. Hopefully, Michael would have told his parents about the video.

- Yes?

- Michael? -she asked, caressing softly her breasts while talking.

- Talking.

- You see, I have brought anything with me but what I was wearing, and I was wondering if there was any Janet's clothing in the house so I can sleep in it...

- Ummm... no, but you may use a T-shirt of mine. Its in the closet. A Queen one; it's very soft and comfortable.

- Unnnnh -she breathed as her hands kept on working- thank you, Michael...

She hung the phone. Now she was sure it belonged to Michael.

She lied down on the bed, slipping among the sheets, and thinking "Michael has worn this T-shirt on his naked skin. Michael has had erotic dreams -a shiver crept down her back- here, in these sheets, wearing this." she was repeating to herself, her hands working up and down her body. "Michael has jerked off while wearing thissss..." she whispered, her own cold fingers giving her the satisfaction Michael should have given. She kept on until, with an asphixiated moan, she came.

- Wel, my friend -she said in loud voice, as she got up to go wash her hands, and then lay down again.- This is all we're getting at the moment, but I swear -she smiled wickedly- Michael will one day be mine as I am already his.

With this happy thought she fell asleep.