"URGH! Is it so hard to look acceptable? My nose is ridiculous, my hair is too flat, my face is disgusting; I have FRICKING ACNE SCARS EVERY WHERE." With the last comment, Michael threw his hairbrush at the mirror, causing it to shatter everywhere. Hearing the noise, you rushed upstairs to were Michael was crying in a heap on the floor. Rushing over to him, you slowly rubbed his warm back, feeling him sob even heavier.
"Shhhh. Come on applehead. My brave solider. The love who I adore. My beautiful boyfriend, and now known as Mr Thriller! Don't let the tabloids win baby. Be strong and go to this ceremony. We both know that you are going to win many awards; how could you not. I'm so proud and I feel so lucky to be on the arm of the most handsome man tonight. So come on, let's get your jacket and glove on, then I will help you finish your curls and I will find your glasses in a minute ok? The glasses will be your barrier, your protection. No one can get to you or hurt you when you wear those glasses. Emmanuel will be here in a minute, you know how much he loves you and how much he thinks of you. How highly we all think of you. You should try listening to us once in a while huh! come on..." you coaxed Michael gently, like a child as he nodded his head softly.
*************************************
30 minutes later
"Michael Jackson!"
"Mr Thriller!"
"Jackson!"
"Michael and Y/N"
The paparazzi screamed and flashed their cameras as you and Michael made your way down the red carpet; Michael finally getting the positive reactions he deserved. He looked as gorgeous as ever with his sparkly military jacket and trademark glove, with his glasses of course! Emmanuel was snuggled cutely in his arms and his suit matched your black and white dress.
You were so proud of Michael that night for being stronger then ever, talking to everyone and accepting no less then 8 grammys; making history! Of course you only wished for him to see how amazing he was although unfortunately for Michael that wasn't the case.
He wanted more...
