Michael Jackson Imagines

Lean On Me (Bad era)

Requested by collidewithbreezy
As per the user's request, this imagine will have a name associated with it other than Y/n.

Jade's POV

Peeping out behind the curtain, I could see Michael performing his hit songs to the endless audience in front of him. A sea of people as far as the eye could see were all waving in unison to his voice. I smiled as I witnessed him so beautifully lost in his performance, each movement of his so effortlessly perfect. But my smile soon faded as I remembered the mob of reporters that will swarm us once this performance was over. I just hoped that at least this time they would save their horrible comments and questions, but I knew they wouldn't.

Recently, I had become their favorite target to pick apart however they pleased. The endless remarks about me were more than enough to drive me to tears. I had purposefully kept this from Michael because I didn't wanna stress him out even more, especially with the tour. Frank knew however, but I managed to convince him not to tell Michael and he so far obliged. I tried to keep a smile on my face but the strain in it was evident.

"I love you!" Michael shouted into the audience to conclude tonight's show. His smile refused to leave his face even after coming backstage to meet me. The tension in my cheeks was becoming more and more unbearable with each passing second and I worried if Michael could see right through me. But luckily, he was whisked back to his dressing room while I decided to remain outside. Once he emerged, he pulled me into an embrace and mumbled.

"Shall we go back now mi 'lady?"

Laughing, I responded, "Yes, my good sir."

He let out that beautiful laugh of his before taking my hand in his and walking towards the limo. Before the doors were even open I could hear them. I tensed up, trying to mentally prepare for the barrage of cameras and questions. Just before the doors opened, Michael and I donned our sunglasses and prepared ourselves to rush as quick as possible to the other side. The second the doors opened, the only thing I could register was getting pushed and shoved in every direction as the paparazzi tried to get closer. Our bodyguards pushed them away and shoved us toward the car, Michael's death grip on my hand pulling me along not willing to let go. Though I tried so hard to not pay attention to the ridiculous questions, a few couldn't help but make it to my ear and into my brain.

"Jade is it true you're a whore who's using Michael for his money?"

"Jade what's your opinion about Michael's secret affair with Elizabeth Taylor?

"Jade when are you two breaking up?"

The door finally closed as Michael and I were on our way back to the hotel. He turned to me and lightly squeezed my hand.

"You okay Jade?"

I forced a small convincing smile and nodded. "Yeah I'm fine."

But in reality, it took every ounce of me not to burst into tears. So the entire way back, we just sat in silence. Luckily, the paparazzi wasn't at the hotel entrance which came as a relief to all of us.

Once Michael and I made it to our room, I pretended like I needed to use the bathroom and dashed to the door, shutting and locking it. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and all the negative things the media kept saying about me glared back in a hideous and distorted image. A single tear rolled down my face and soon my face was drenched. To prevent Michael from hearing me, I cried into a towel. He didn't know just how much I was affected about this and I planned to keep it that way. My mind kept destroying me with spiteful words as sob after sob wreaked my body.

Abruptly, I heard a knocking sound at the door. No doubt it was Michael, probably checking up to see why I was in here so long. I managed to wipe my face and dry my tears as he said.

"Jade, are you okay?"

I tried to reply as normally as I could that everything was fine, but my voice betrayed me.

"Jade, I can tell you've been crying. Can you please open the door for me?"

Hesitantly, I got up off the floor and went to unlock the door. But even that was too draining for me as I ended up sinking back onto the white tiles. I heard the door open as Michael came in and sat down behind me, pulling me into his lap. I sobbed into his neck as he held me in his comforting embrace, one hand resting against my head while the other slowly stroked up and down my back.

"Frank told me earlier what happened. I didn't know the press was bullying you this bad. If I had known how you were feeling I would've done something." I didn't have the capacity to reply, so all I could do was listen. "I'm so sorry babygirl for not being there when you needed me. I should've paid more attention to you." I wanted to tell him that he didn't have to apologize for anything and that none of this was his fault. But once again, my words failed me.

I looked up at him and gazed into his perfect mocha irises that reflected regret and sorrow but still held deep love for me. He leaned down and pressed his lips against my temple, then my cheeks, then all over my face.

"I want you to know babygirl that no matter what anyone else says you will always be the most beautiful girl I have ever laid my eyes on."

With that, he pressed his lips to my cheek deeply and pulled away to rest my head against his shoulder as his own pressed against the side of my head. We closed our eyes and inhaled each other's scent, calming me down. And for God knows how long we just sat on the floor not focused on anything but our rhythmic breathing.