The Highest Note [Michael Jackson]

Did I scare ya?

"Did I scare you?" He said, his voice very similar to a certain short film. He grinned, his lip caught up in his teeth again. His boyish features essentially lighting my face up.

I offered a shy smile.
"No," I lied, twiddling my thumbs behind my back. "I wasn't even slightly scared."

He chuckled. "That scream says otherwise," He mused. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying my best to not ounce on him then and there.

"Okay, maybe a little."

He looked  down and let out a small laugh.
With his hands behind his back, he took a step forward, and I nearly fainted.

"You're performance was amazing. I couldn't take my eyes off you." He praised, offering a grin. I basically felt like a tomato in front of him. Nah, it's okay. He's only the famous person in the world right now, standing here in front of me.

Say something dumbass!

I cleared my throat and reverted my eyes. "U-uh, thank you, Mr.Jackson," My orbs met his again. "It means a lot."

He took another step forward, his childish grin ever-so-present on his face.

"I like what you did with Billie Jean and Thriller. That was funny, that setup."

I gasped. "You knew?" He laughed at my naïveté.

Oh yeah, just turn me on by just laughter. I'm not embarrassed or anything. I thought sarcastically.

"I know acting when I see it, but I didn't know you were going to mash the songs up like that." He said. "It was amazing, I really liked it." He complimented, clasping his hands together in front of his lap.

"Please, Mr. Jackson. That was nothing compared to what you can do." I praised. " He frowned at this. What? I thought frantically. Did I say something to piss him off?

He took a breath. "Call me Michael," he paused "miss...?"

"My name?" I asked stupidly.
Noooo your address' I thought bitterly. He laughed at this.

"Yes silly! What's your name?" He tilted his head to the side a bit.

"O-oh." I stuttered. "Ashaunti. Ashaunti Miller." I introduced myself, giving a small curtesy. "At your service."

He took another step forward, smile still present.

I felt my breath get caught in my throat. He was less than three feet away.

"Well, Ashaunti," he started, his voice dropping an octave. I pinched myself. He did not try and seduce me. I had to have been dreaming!

"You really have a way with your fingers."

I bit my lip to stop myself from freaking out. Did he mean that the way I think he ment that?!

"I-uh-uhm-t-thanks?" I said, tripping over my own words. He went back to his normal, childlike voice.

"So, how do you play that thing?" He said, walking closer to get a better look at my violin. He was now right next to me, eying my violin.

There was a huge hight difference. First, you had Michael, the six foot dancer. Then you had me. I was struggling to reach 5'4. He basically towered over me.