Night soon came and the persistent and raging thoughts in the back of his mind woke him from what he hoped would be a refreshing slumber. With a sigh of frustration, Michael sat up and ran his hand through his tousled locks. Another long and difficult night most likely. Where his mind would run an infinite amount of laps to the point of exhaustion.
Michael groaned and shifted his gaze to the window. The grounds were quiet and peaceful, an occasional sound from the animals was all that could be heard. Aside from that the only other sound he could hear was the best of his heart.
Reaching into the bedside table hisnfingers searched for a pen and pad of paper, it was always nights such as this when ideas for new material have been known to crop up.
Tapping the pen across the pad he sat in thought, humming softly to himself, propping his knees up close to his chest. Much like when he was younger, it was almost like a coping mechanism for Michael, if one could call it that.
He sighed once more, fingers tapping to a melody that could only be heard by him.
Raindrops began to patter along the windowpane, creating a song for him almost immediately.
"I was wandering in the rain, mask of life feeling insane…" Michael whispered, fingers nearly flying across the page.
The new album was one of reflection and inexpressible anger towards society and those who nearly destroyed him. A method of coping in its own right. A couple tracks were angrier that he would like, but when the ideas refused to leave him be, one of course must let the music flow.
Much like the raindrops flowing in tiny rivers against the glass. Letting yourself go can be a spiritual experience.
But for Michael, finding that solace was an adventure all its own sometimes.
"I'm living lonely, I'm living lonely, baby…"
He sighed as the words flowed from the tips of his fingers. Truth be told, a night much like this one had spurred the beginnings of this song, but he couldn't get to it right away due to the meeting at Sony.
As anyone may already know, new music means a new tour, and promoting it to the utmost degree. It was a vicious cycle sometimes for sure, but somehow Michael would make it through, by the grace of God, of course.
The meeting involved lining up interviews.
Another thing he absolutely hated.
99% of interviewers drug his name through the mud these past years, and it left Michael a bitter man in its wake. One couldn't blame him for the change of heart against those who inflicted that pain upon his heart.
"Stranger in Moscow…"
Truth be told, someday he felt like a stranger. A stranger in his own mind and body. It scared Michael sometimes, there was no denying the fact. When one has a heart as kind and loving as his, it was a terrible shock.
"Think you can do an interview anytime soon?"
"Seriously?" Michael groaned. "It's too soon for one."
"Gotta strike while the iron is hot, you know that."
Another groan forced past his lips. "I know, but–"
"The fans are waiting, Mike. You know that."
"I also know my fans will be patient with me, unlike how you are right now." Michael shot back, eyes darkening with a touch of anger.
"Fine, but at least give this one a go. She's new, a journalist in the making."
Again, Michael groaned. "That's even worse!"
The air had quickly become thick to the point I could be cut with a butter knife. Seconds ticked past at an nearly agonizing pace. The clock on the wall slowly flicked over to 12:38pm. Michael's eyes were still dark and hard as ice, and the man across from him was visibly trembling.
"I've already met her. Just trust me."
What exactly was trust anymore? It was a foreign word to Michael, no longer a part of his vocabulary. Crossing his arms across his chest, his eyes rolled to the side. Clearly not happy nor amused.
"What time and where?"
"Next Wednesday at 1:30, if that works, of course."
"Yeah, fine, I guess." Michael waved a hand, attempting to brush it all away. "What's her name?"
"Sarah. Sarah Underwood. "
Hmm, Sarah. Had a lovely ring to it. A name Michael hasn't heard very much. A faint smile tugged the corner of his lips.
Soon coming back to the present moment, the base of the song was finished and ready for composing. With a sigh he stood and padded through the halls quietly to the personal recording studio, which has always come in handy for nights such as this.
Michael locked the door behind him, lyrics in hand. Sitting before the co tools, he soon fell into a trance, as the song came to life around him.
The clock read 12:35am.
Gonna be another typical night of little to no sleep.
"Take my name and just let me be," he sang softly into the silence.
Michael quietly hummed, tapping his toes against the cold tile floor. Becoming absorbed in what he does best, he began to drift away, letting the moment embrace his heart and mind, fully and completely.
"Like a stranger in Moscow…"
The rain picked up outside the house, mirroring his inner turmoil as thunder rolled overhead.
YOU ARE READING
Love Me Like You Do
Fanfiction"Michael," she gasped against his lips as they crashed into hers. His hands pinned her against the wall, as the dominant side of him began to take over. A raging wildfire coursed through his veins, a roaring storm of passion. He just had to have her...
