Since Michael released his Bad album, leather jackets became a signature feature in his style. For you, it was something that drove you crazy. The mixture of his leather jacket, long hair, and boots summoned your intense butterflies.
When Michael was out at the studio, you decided to go for a shopping trip. It was Friday and you'd just cashed your check, so you were ready to go. Because of the sunny weather, you decided to pull your long hair up into a ponytail. Once you pulled on your jeans and fitted sweater, you were on your way.
The sun beamed over the Southern California scenery. Sidewalks buzzed with determined tourists running errands. Palm trees towered as a street with small tourist shops quickly escalated into a high end mall. You smiled when a huge poster of Michael gleamed in a window. By now, you were used to seeing him everywhere, but it still made you smile.
You parked your car and let your tennis shoes hit the pavement. With your purse over your shoulder, you glanced around at other visitors. Many women eagerly rushed into the mall. A smile crept on your face and you skipped through the glass doors.
~~~~
At first, no stores caught your eye. That quickly changed when you saw a mannequin in the window of a clothing store. On the plastic body was a black, studded leather jacket. It had a striking resemblance to Michael's jacket on the cover of his album.
Your eyes widened as you observed the entire outfit. The jeans were plain black, but they looked amazing with the outfit. To finish it off, a pair of black leather boots. The mannequin was petite like you, so with your face reflecting off the glass, your head peeked right over the headless body. It was almost as if the outfit was meant for you.
Once you walked in the store, you noticed that most of their clothing was not your style. With all the black spiked boots and fishnet tights, your neon sweater stood out.
An employee looked up as you entered. She had spiky hair, dark makeup, and a nose ring. Harsh appearances like that used to scare you, but the makeup on Michael's dancers for his tour solved that. The young girl smiled, making her dimples appear.
"Welcome! Can I help you find something?"
"That outfit on the mannequin —in the window right there—do you have that in an extra small?" You asked the employee.
"The entire thing?" She asked.
"Oh, and a size three in the boots."
"Sure! Let me look!"
You thanked her as she went to search.
A few minutes later, she came back with a stack of black clothes in her arms.
"Would you like to try these on?" She asked.
"Yes, please!"
"Perfect. Let me show you to our dressing room."
You quickly got settled and slipped on the entire thing. The resemblance to Michael was undeniable.
"I can't wait to show him!" You whispered.
"Everything alright?" The employee asked through the door.
You stepped out to let her see.
"You have the perfect body for that!" She squealed.
"Thanks," you blushed.
She wasn't wrong. The jacket and jeans clung to your slim body. You weren't extremely curvy, but you weren't a pencil either. Michael loved your shape. Your lack of curves kept you at a light weight. That allowed him to still carry you without any trouble. Since Michael couldn't lift many people over age thirteen for too long, this was a big deal to him. Because you two weren't drastically different in shape, he didn't look like the complete stick that he was next to you.
