Book I Of the 'Not Vanilla' Imagine Series.
𝚃𝚆: includes strong language, Sexual content, Explicit content.
Readers discretion is Advised
Imagines Between you & Michael Jackson.
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★ 1988 Saint Louis Word Count: 9.3k
The last few days had been a whirlwind, a collision of emotions that left you reeling. The night you left Michael's suite felt like a turning point, a definitive break from the life you'd known. When you returned to your house, it was eerily quiet, your husband still not home. There was a strange finality in the silence, as if the walls themselves knew what was coming. Without hesitation, you began packing two suitcases, filling them with pieces of your life—clothes, keepsakes, items that held meaning. You didn't bother leaving a note, no explanation, nothing but the wedding ring you placed on his dresser like a period at the end of a sentence.
Leaving him was about more than just the strain of back-to-back job losses. It was about betrayal—the revelation that he had another family on the side, a secret he kept from you until his ex-wife became pregnant. Two years into the marriage, he confessed, shattering the trust you'd built. Ever since, you harbored a grudge, a deep, festering wound that never quite healed. Meeting Michael had been unexpected—a chance encounter in an office building, where he bumped into you on his way to a meeting with your boss. From that moment, your world began to change.
Now, you found yourself sitting in the corner of the stage, watching Michael perform. His energy was electric, a force that seemed to light up the entire arena. He worked the stage like a man possessed, pouring every ounce of himself into the performance, giving his all to the fans who adored him, who worshipped him like a deity. You could see the way they looked at him, their eyes wide with awe, their screams echoing through the venue.
"Good night, Saint Louis! I love you!" Michael's voice boomed through the microphone, his final words reverberating in the air as he blew kisses to the sea of fans. The crowd roared in response, their love for him palpable.
As he ran off the stage, he made a beeline for you, grabbing your hand without missing a beat. Together, you sprinted down the dark corridors, your heart racing in time with his. The adrenaline was still pumping through him, his breath coming in heavy pants as he led you to his dressing room. He twisted the knob and rushed inside, locking the door behind you.
"I hope you enjoyed the show," Michael said, his chest heaving, his eyes still alight with the remnants of the performance high.
"Of course I did," you replied, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "Every single one of them, Michael. You were amazing, as always."
Michael's smile was softer now, almost bashful. "Thank you," he said quietly, his voice filled with a sincerity that made your heart flutter. He stepped closer, his eyes roaming over you. "You look really beautiful tonight," he added, his gaze lingering on your face. "I couldn't help but glance over at you throughout the show. I saw you bobbing your head to the music."
"We'll duh, how could I resist?" you teased lightly. "Watching you smile and dance across that stage made me so happy, but... how do you do it? How do you handle all those people in the crowd, all that energy?"
