Nicole Ross is the daughter of Motown legend Diana Ross. Michael Jackson is an up and coming preteen idol working through his trials, and triumphs. Their childhood is full of tragedy, fun, pranks, and work.
They grow into fully realized people with...
*Yes, this didn't occur until 1987. But, we're going a little off kilter for this story!*
August 20, 1985 Nicole's POV
I was in complete, utter frustration. My bronze, gold plated dress was laying on our bed just this morning. I know my children wouldn't dare touch it, and Michael is the only one who rips my clothes off my body only. Alright, it's probably not appropriate to talk about that.
I breathed rapidly as I tried to locate that damn dress. Tonight, I was performing in front of a live audience. I wasn't changing into the dress until we actually arrive at the event, and the momentum of doing that is rapidly decreasing. I sighed irritably as I looked around my room for the dress.
We had recently hired a maid named Mariana. She is a wonderful, fantastic lady with a heart of gold. The kids loved her as well, so she had become more of a family member than just an employee. I tread my way very quickly to my bedroom doorway, and glanced down the hallway.
I found Mariana cleaning off the stairway banister. She glanced in my direction, waving her rag in the air. I waved her over in my direction. Mariana walked over to me, her eyebrows furrowed in slightly.
"Yes, Mrs. Jackson?" Mariana's heavy accent rung through my ears.
"Mariana, would you run down to the storage closet to see if I possibly put that darn dress in there?" I begged silently.
"Sure, I'll be back in a flash." She ushered.
"Thanks." I breathed, gratefully.
Mariana nodded before disappearing down the stairs. I turned back, and closed my foot tightly. To make sure my kids didn't come in, and interrupt me, I locked it. I almost stumbled over my bathrobe, and tightened it. My hair was also thrown up in a pristine, white towel.
I sighed, and peered down at all the makeup I had placed there. I took out my primer, and put some on my left index finger. After rubbing that in, I put on some foundation, bronzer, highlighter, and the rest of my face. I heard a knock coming from the bedroom door.
"Yes?" I called, turning to acknowledge them.
"Your dress was in storage, Mrs. Jackson. I've got it laid on your bed." Mariana explained through the doorway.
"Oh, thank you." I chuckled. I was going to wear the dress to the after party event. I have no idea what stage costume they would put me in when it was time for me to perform. I teased my hair as I let it flow freely, and I was satisfied by it. I glided back out of the bathroom into my master suite.
I then turned to go into my walk-in closet, and put on a white top that flew into a boldly black skirt. I loved how it showed my curves, and put on some black pointed-toe stilettos. I glanced into my closet's mirror, and exhaled very deeply.
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