Michael Jackson Imagines and Short Stories

Assistant Part 4

You enter the room, and a hush of awkward silence falls. Every last eye is on you, and you start to become self conscious - worrying about your makeup and hair, if you had something in your teeth - but then a gruff voice saves you,

“Well...? Go on mike!" A big burly man huffs.

“Cut it out, Frank! I'm sorry miss, thank you for your help." You are stunned for a moment, and you take a second to look at him. You hadn't really looked at his face since you had been in the room, but there he was. As real as you were. You were so close that you could see his pores. He was right there, so close that you could see every individual curl on his head. And you only realized that you were staring when an executive said,

"You want his number? Because he sure wants yours" And the whole room erupted and laughter. For you, however, it was quite embarrassing being picked on, so you mustered a smile and brusquely left the room to find a place to gain back your bearings.