𝚃𝚆: includes strong language, Sexual content, Explicit content.
Readers discretion is Advised
Imagines Between you & Michael Jackson.
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🔴 1991. 𝙻𝚘𝚜 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:1.9k
‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
Tonight, Michael had attended the Oscars with Madonna, a decision you didn't mind despite your deep-seated dislike for her. But there was someone you detested even more: Diana Ross. After the ceremony, you showed up at the exclusive after-party, determined to find your husband, as he had insisted you join him.
You navigated through the crowd of glitzy celebrities, their laughter and conversations blending into a cacophony. You spotted Madonna and made your way over, tapping her shoulder.
"Hey, Madonna," you greeted, trying to keep your tone neutral.
She turned, her eyes widening in recognition. "Yes?"
"Have you seen Michael? He wanted me to meet him here," you asked, scanning the room briefly.
"Umm, no, actually. He ran off somewhere. Last time I saw him, he was sitting with someone," she replied, her gaze flickering away.
"Thanks," you muttered, walking away into the throng of partygoers. You weaved through the crowd, your eyes searching for Michael. The room was filled with celebrities, standing, chatting, or sitting at tables, eating and drinking.
As you approached a cluster of people, you noticed a group gathered around someone. Your heart sank when you saw your husband, Michael, with Diana Ross perched on his lap, her hands draped over him.
You walked over, standing behind Diana, listening to their conversation. Diana's hands roved over Michael as she sat comfortably on his lap.
"Ahem," you cleared your throat loudly.
Michael's head shot up, his eyes widening. "Oh, hi baby," he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
"Don't 'hi baby' me. Why is she on your lap, Michael?" you demanded, glaring at Diana.
"There weren't any seats," Michael mumbled, avoiding your gaze.
You pointed around the room, noting several empty chairs. "There's one right there, another there, and there."
Michael tightened his grip on Diana's waist, pulling her closer. "I'm sorry, baby. We just got caught up in the conversation," he explained.
Diana nodded, her voice syrupy. "We were just catching up. It's been years."
You stepped closer, your eyes blazing. "Diana, with no respect whatsoever, weren't you the one who left Michael high and dry, knowing he was in love with you? Didn't you lead him on? You see he's clearly married, to me. So, get off my husband before your wig ends up on the ground."
Diana quickly stood up, but Michael pulled her back down. "Diana, relax," he said, his tone calm.
"Are you serious right now, Michael?" you snapped.
