I Can't Help It | Michael Jackson

Find Me a Girl

(Michael's POV)

I could see Sydney's surprise as we stepped into the limo outside.
"What? Never had a guy treat you right?"

The limo was small and we sat with our knees touching.

"So where's Mick?"

"Where's Tatiana?" Sydney replied.

"I'm thinking about you."

"What about me?"

"Just about how that dress looks on you." I looked into her eyes. 

"Oh, so I see you've opted for the bold moves tonight, huh, Mr. Jackson?" Sydney said, letting out a small giggle.

"Only when I'm after something, someone I really want." I see how she chokes on her own breath as she stares at me with a deep gaze. I can't quite figure out her eyes, I can see she's trying to put up a wall between us, but it's like she's fighting with herself. Whatever feelings lay behind her eyes, I know she must be feeling good, because next thing I know she is intertwining her fingers with mine.

(Sydney's POV)

Michael and I decided on a simple restaurant called Diamonds. It served mostly Italian food, but you'll find a burger on the menu. We were deep into our conversation, both of our plates almost finished, but, God, this has to be one of the best nights of my life.

I have a handsome, sexy, rich, fine gentleman on my arm. Eating at a great restaurant. I look fine as usual. The night is nothing but positive energy and good food. I might just orgasm again.

"So hold on," I say, confused. "You have sisters? Three? Which makes it nine children?"

Michael nodded.
"Mhm, nine children that my mama and Joseph had to raise. It was a real hustle. But, look where we are. We've got a bigger home in Encino, California, my mama can have anything she wants, and my younger siblings don't have to grow up in that small ol' room of a house."

I was mesmerized watching him speak. He just sounded so easygoing and... normal? Well, he is normal, but still. I don't meet many people like him, especially celebrities that are normal, humble. It's rare. Special.

"That's amazing," I simply said, completely enchanted by him.

"What about you? All you did was ask me questions tonight and I still don't know anything about you. Are you some sort of spy? Or maybe a boring teacher? Let me guess... you're a babysitter. Watching kids all day," he jokes, causing me to laugh at his random selection of work.

"Not even close to any of those. I guess you could say...I'm a performer. I perform for people," his eyes widened.

"Oh? What do you..." he started, but I cut him off before he could say anything else.

"I work with poles," I simply said, taking a big risk by telling him about my profession.

"Oh! That's an interesting profession. Do you enjoy it?"

Wow, I never thought of that before. No one has asked me that either. Did I enjoy stripping?

"I mean you could say that I like the easy money and that it pays well. I live with my family in New York, we need money and I refuse to work anywhere else. This job brings me good money and fast. I go home every night with something in my pockets. Whether it's a hundred or a thousand dollars, I've got money to bring home."

Michael nodded his head along with what I was saying. "As long as you enjoy it, then it's cool. But if you ever need help with anything, it doesn't have to be money, by the way. Well uh....I'll be there."

I smirked, my head instantly making an obnoxious reference to The Jackson 5's song. I grab a beer bottle to use as a microphone.

"You and I must make a pact!" I started singing. I wasn't any Michael Jackson, but I could hold a note. Michael started laughing. "We must bring salvation back."

"Where there is love, I'll be there," Michael sang. "I'll reach out my hand to you, I'll have faith in all you do, just call my name and I'll be there."

I listened to him sing with that beautiful voice of his as he looked at me. Butterflies erupted in my stomach. His voice was so magical, it could cure any heartache. And the way he looked while singing, it's just so magical. It's like I'm under a spell, his spell.

"Sing again, that sounded good!" I exclaimed.

Michael laughed as he shook his head. He paid for our meal and, of course, I didn't say no. Now he insisted on walking me home. The walk back home was calming, it was clear we both enjoyed each other's company. After a few minutes of quiet, I took another shot at making him sing.

"Can you sing again for me Michael?" I plead with puppy eyes.

"What song do you want me to sing for you, my lady?" he smiled, stepping closer to me.

Feeling bold I went straight for his hand, which he gladly held in that sexy firm grasp of his. You gotta love a man with a firm grasp. We stayed in that moment for a couple of seconds, but he brought me back to earth when he started caressing my hand with his thumb.

"Wanna Be Where You Are, my favorite."

He chuckled and cleared his throat.
"Wait, where do you want me to start?"

I thought for a bit, I just wanted him to sing for me again.
"Anywhere."

"Can it be I stayed away too long? Did I leave your mind when I was gone? Well it's not my thing trying to get back, but this time let me tell you where I'm at. I wanna wanna be where you are, any where you are. I wanna wanna be where you are, everywhere you are."

He shyly looked at me and I had the widest smile on my face. The one and only Michael Jackson just sung to me and only me. Twice, actually. I'm feeling lucky and honored.

"I don't know what this feeling is but I love it," I let that slip. I covered my mouth and blushed furiously, did I just say that? Nah, let me stop. I'm not falling for another man, no way. I can't get all soft. I need money, that's all. Fuck love. Love can fuck off.

The rest of the walk was filled with laughter and storytelling until we got to my front door. I'm glad he didn't dare question me about my little statement, because trying to explain myself would've been embarrassing.

"Well, I'm glad I wasn't the first person to reject the Michael Jackson," I leaned against my door, facing him.

"So you had fun tonight? You'd do it again?"

"Yes, of course." I say, not giving it a second thought.

Would I? I mean, dating him doesn't sound awful at all. He's actually likeable and not annoying, unlike Mick. And he's got a whole lot of money, just what I like. Yeah, I think I could get used to this.

"Well, okay," he grinned, grabbing my hand and kissing it. What a gentleman! "I'll call you then?"

"I'll be waiting," I winked. Should I ask him for money? Nah, too soon. Too soon. Our second date sounds like a better option.

"Bye, Sydney."

"Goodbye, Michael."

And hello to my new bank account!