𝚃𝚆: includes strong language, Sexual content, Explicit content.
Readers discretion is Advised
Imagines Between you & Michael Jackson.
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🔴 1992. 𝚄𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚜 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3K
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"Michael, do you know anyone who can come in for Iman? She's sick as hell, man," John asked with a tone laced with concern, his brows furrowed.
"Uhh, Yes. Let me go make a call," Michael replied, his footsteps heavy as he moved toward the back, heading to the phone with a sense of urgency.
Dialing a number, he waited impatiently for someone to pick up, the suspense thick in the air until finally, you answered the call.
"Hello?" you said, your voice a mix of surprise and curiosity, unsure of who was on the other end.
There was a moment of silence, then a familiar voice cleared its throat before timidly saying, "Hi."
Recognition dawned on you. "Oh, hi, Michael," you replied, feeling a rush of emotions as memories flooded back, his voice stirring something deep within you.
It had been a while since you last heard from Michael, especially since the night you ended things abruptly, regret gnawing at you ever since.
"Are you busy right now?" Michael inquired, his tone tentative yet hopeful.
"No, I'm not. What is it, Michael?" you responded, attempting to mask the flood of emotions with a hint of irritation.
"I need a huge favor from you, and I promise I won't bother you again, okay?" he pleaded, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.
"Okay, what is it?" you asked, unable to hide the curiosity in your voice, despite your best efforts. Last time he reached out, it was usually for something less than genuine.
"Umm, Iman is sick, and we need someone to cover for her in the short film I'm working on. The only person I could think of to play a beautiful queen was you," he explained, his words tugging at your heartstrings.
"Michael, why would I—" you began, but he interrupted before you could finish.
"Please baby, just this once. She's really sick, and we need to finish this up," he pleaded, his desperation evident in his voice.
The term of endearment slipped from his lips, leaving you feeling vulnerable and conflicted. It had been so long since he called you that.
"Okay, I'll come, but that's it, Michael. I don't want anything else to do with you after this, I mean it," you asserted, trying to maintain a sense of resolve.
He let out a heavy breath, relief evident in his voice. "Thank you. This really means a lot to me. I'll have a car sent to come get you. Are you still at the same place?" he asked, his concern palpable.
