Chapter Thirteen

CAUGHT IN A LANDSLIDE

Los Angeles
September 1981 (A year later)

'Martha sent this to you.'

Michael raised his head and looked up at Brooke, who held up an apple. He took it and examined it carefully but didn't take a bite.

Brooke cringed when she noticed how thin he was: last night when she sat in the audience, she had thought it was just because of the stage lighting but now she could see he indeed had lost a lot of weight.

They didn't meet that often – Michael had been on the tour with his brothers and Brooke, too, had projects of her own – and still Brooke could tell Michael was everything but fine.

If she just knew what was making him so unhappy... But he wouldn't tell her.

'How are you, Brooke?'

Brooke startled.

'I'm coping. You?'

'I'm okay.'

'No you're not', Brooke thought, worried, but didn't say it aloud.

'Are you relieved now that the tour is finally over?'

Michael nodded.

'Very much so', he muttered, although the tone of his voice was in stark contradiction with these words. 'Now I can get on with my own stuff again.'

Brooke smiled and the fist around her heart loosened its grip a bit when he looked Michael in the eye and saw a glimpse of joy in them.

'That sounds great', she agreed, genuinely happy for him. 'I'm looking forward to hearing the new songs you told me about.'

Michael clenched his teeth. The muscles in his sunken cheeks strained.

'Yes, I've got a couple of nice songs for ya. Do you want to hear something? Wait a sec.'

Michael held up his index finger and handed the apple back to Brooke. Then he twirled around and ran to the cassette player. Soon music started to play and immediately Michael striked a pose. Brooke couldn't help but admire the way he absorbed into the beat.

However, when she watched Michael dancing and singing along with the new demo, she felt a tinge of sadness: he was god-like in a way, unreachable and untouchable.

It had now been a year and a half since Michael asked her to be his girl – but to this day not once had she felt that he belonged to her. They were the best of friends – or had been in the past – but never more than that, no matter what he said.

Brooke knew it wasn't Michael's religion nor their full time schedules that kept them apart. It was the fact that he didn't love her as much as she did. It wasn't that he didn't try – because he did try – but to Brooke it seemed like he couldn't. Even now when she looked at him, she could tell that he wasn't dancing for her. Of course she was deeply touched by everything he did – but at the same time she felt almost guilty for watching something that wasn't meant for her.

'You're the King of Dance!' she cheered none the less when the music faded away and Michael turned to her, anxiously waiting for her comments on his performance. 'I'm so impressed. That was amazing, Michael.'

'I'm glad you liked it', Michael purred and for the first time today he seemed to be satisfied with himself. 'Girl.'

Brooke gulped when she heard the last word as it eeriely reminded her of what she had been thinking a few minutes ago.

'I really did', she said and Michael jumped about excitedly.

'You should say that to Quincy', he chuckled, grinning wickedly. 'He didn't like it at all.'

'Oh he didn't? Maybe he has become deaf.'

'Oh no he hasn't. He thought that I should cut the intro. But that would be like an amputation, I don't wanna make my songs all crippled. So I said that either we keep the intro or we can forget about this album. I love this piece so much.'

Brooke listened to him attentively. When he talked about music, it was like everything changed: his eyes shone, he moved effortlessly and his voice flowed beautifully.

'He's an ass. Let mama take care of it, I'll take him right.'

Michael looked at her in awe and then burst out in hysteric laughter.

'Brooke! I never knew that a new side of ya! You're bad, girl! Oh, I love you.'

Brooke laughed along and her heart jumped when she looked into Michael's eyes and saw how much he cared about her.

Suddenly Michael glanced at the clock and stopped laughing at once.

'It's 7PM already', he gasped. 'Oh boy.'

He blinked a few times and Brooke watched puzzled as he fought to keep his composure.

What was going on?

'Yes it is', she said slowly, staring at the apple in her hand. 'Are you having a guest or what?'

Michael flinched.

'Kinda. Could you please... '

Brooke nodded and put the apple on the sofa table. When she turned around, Michael was standing behind her, looking at her with deep emotion.

'Brooke, you're the most beautiful girl in the world. You have to know this. I don't even deserve you.'

Brooke looked back at him astounded.

'No, Michael. I don't deserve you.'

Michael lowered his head.

If she just knew.

'I love you', he said.

Brooke smirked.

'I love you too, Michael.'

Michael enclosed her in his arms and didn't release her for a long time. When he finally did, he had tears in his eyes.

'See you soon', he whispered and smootched her once more.

'I'll call you later this week when I have time. Just remember, Michael: you're a wonderful human being. Never forget that.'

This was too much for Michael. He rubbed his hands together, laughed nervously and licked his lips.

'Good night, Brooke.'

Brooke smiled and Michael opened the door for her. As she walked through it, both she and Michael heard footsteps from the stairs and soon a young, athletic man appeared into their field of vision.

Brooke looked at Michael surprised.

'Brooke – this is... Steven', Michael muttered, fidgeting uncomfortably.

'Hello', Brooke greeted the youth who had halted in front of her, eyeing her curiously. 'Are you business partners or what?'

'Steven is my... one of my technicians.'

'Well, nice to meet you Steven.'

'Nice to meet you too, Ms. Shields.'

'I've to go now – I call you, okay?'

Brooke brushed her hand down Michael's arm. Michael smiled a bit stiffly.

'Yeah. See you later.'

She gave an odd look at Steven before heading for the stairs. When she was descending downstairs, she heard the door slam shut behind her.

There was something very strange about Steven, but she couldn't place what. Maybe it was the way he looked at Michael or the way his presence made Michael all jittery, but there was one thing Brooke knew for sure: that man was not a technician.

On the other hand, it wasn't unusual for Michael to be a bit secretive about his affairs. And Brooke knew he didn't like people speculating on his private life. Maybe she just should try stop thinking so much.

Maybe she was just imagining things.

So – when she walked across the paved yard toward her SUV, she decided to no longer concern herself with Michael's weird acquaintances. He had the right to keep things to himself. He had always been that way.

Brooke leaned her forehead against the car door. Then she opened it and sat down behind the wheel. She took a last look at the house and pushed the pedal down.

Meanwhile, Michael had sank down on an armchair near the fireplace. Steven sat on the sofa across from him, now and then glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

Michael looked at the fire. His heart was heavy: The guilt burned inside him, as strong as always.

'How far have I gone?' he thought, his breath coming out in grunts. 'I don't recognize myself anymore. Oh, if I just could stop this...'

'Michael.'

Michael jumped when he heard his name called. He opened his eyes and saw Steven's face hovering above his.

Michael's throat tightened with emotion. Right now, he could stop this madness, if he just pushed him away, told him to go and never come back, just like he had told Freddie...

But Steven was here at his request. Unlike Freddie.

Freddie...

Then a hot pair of lips attached themselves to his bare collarbone and Michael knew it was too late to say no. He closed his eyes and melted into the kiss, forgetting Brooke, his religion, people's expectations... Everything.

Longing and desire grew with each delicate caress but just before he was about to pull Steven closer, he remembered something and whispered it in his ear:

'Please, don't call me Michael anymore. Don't speak at all, okay?'

Steven nodded and then pressed their mouths together.

After that Michael couldn't remember a thing. Nor did he want to.