Michael Jackson -- April 11th, 1992 Location: 17 E Monroe St; The Palmer House, a Hilton Hotel
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Chicago was really a beautiful place. I wouldn't mind visiting again.
We've arrived in Chicago two days ago during the nighttime. I rented out the whole presidential suite's floor, along with the floor below that for my team, and for Heavy D — who was featured on the song — and Kriss Kross — a rap duo who would be making an appearance in the video.
Jam was next on my song's selection list of upcoming short films/music videos. We would be shooting the footage in an abandoned warehouse. Michael Jordan was the star of the film. He would be teaching me how to play basketball, and in return, I would be teaching him some of my signature dance moves.
I could picture this film so clearly, and I loved what we came up with.
As a bonus, Michael would be surprising me with something that he said that I would love. I had no idea what it was, but I'm sure he won't disappoint.
This was going to be a great film, I'm sure of it.
Karen and I sat on the sofa of the suite, channel surfing and looking on the menu to see what we wanted to eat. I was stuck between eating a delicious taco, or just having some ice water. I was never really the man with a huge appetite. Even a small sip of orange juice could make me full. Not only that, but I had to keep my figure. But that wasn't really a problem — dancing would whip me back in shape everytime.
I sighed softly, ultimately choosing not to eat this time. "What are you going to eat, Karen?"
"There's nothing to watch," she sighed. "just the same old thing. Um, what do they have?"
"Uhhh." I looked down the list of various foods again. "They have a lot, I'll tell you that."
Karen laughed and stood up, walking towards me, and sat on the arm of the sofa. "Do they have cheeseburgers and milkshakes."
"Mhm."
"What kinds?"
"Vanilla, chocolate..." I furrowed my eyebrows. "Banana? Who ever thought of that?"
"Just order me a cheeseburger, no onions or lettuce, and a vanilla milkshake with sprinkles." Karen laughed at my facial expression. "Are you going to eat anything?"
I shook my head softly. "No."
"You're not hungry?" She frowned when I shook my head again. "Oh no, Michael —"
