Inhaling Alongside You✔️

Chapter Twenty-Five: Meant To Be BAD

Music is my master once the lights come on. The rhythms lure me into their ventriloquist act. There's no words before the beat drops. The mere howls and screams of the adoring fans are no match for the thrill I receive once the music begins. My body simultaneously grooving alongside the drums and the electric piano. No one can bare my soul like music. It's my keeper that gifts me the inspiration to dance. Music is my very precious gift from God. I thank him humbly for it.

Marlon, Tito, Randy, Jackie and Jermaine. My very brothers I once shared the stage with. Each had their own preference when it came to musical quotas. Each brother new oh so well how much the next enjoyed this instrument of soul that raised above us as we coagulated our talents. Neither of us, as brothers, would have thought that we would one day disband and find our own ways into the entertainment world. We only knew each other.

Now, here I am bathing in the luminescent glow of the stage light. My breathing smooth and calm. The audiences is fuming with anticipation awaiting me to break my character, but I won't. Not now, I have to bask in this moment. Every night I do so in front of each new crowd, I bask. I have to silently thank God for this adventure into this new world of mine. The audience just see's me standing silently, but I see myself as the man who is truly humble in his blessing.

Then, Jerry's drumsticks hits the belly of the beast, awakening me onto the familiar sound of Thriller "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' ". My group of male dancers surround me, two dancers posted on either side of me, ready to feel the rage of the hungry drums and guitar. I have yet to break my character as the song demands the audience to grow louder. Finally, I break counting into the microphone confidently.

I'm ready, I hope they are too.

My feet imitate my greatest inspiration, James Brown as I shimmy across the waxed flooring. My hands seemingly have a mind of their own as I unconsciously grip at my crotch, thrusting upwards. My right foot taps and twist along with my leg as I violently dance along the beat. My simple message in the song being, take ownership for what you do and try to avoid negative choices.

That's my dream when I sing and perform. I want the audience to not only be bewildered with excitement, but also listen and comprehend the message I am trying to convey. Thriller was a compliance of awareness. The awareness of gang violence, the awareness of groupies, the awareness of loving someone deeply, and the awareness of letting you imagination take flight. Beat It,Billie Jean, Lady In My Life, and Thriller are all prominent examples of my messages for awareness. Now, I am continuing that philosophy with Bad.

I miss my brothers. I miss performing with them, and each night I bring honor to those good days of being apart of The Jackson 5. I bring honor to our dismembered band by paying tribute through song. Because the Bad tour is a collection of old and new, I decided I wanted to recapture the memories of why I am here. I want the audience to never forget how much I appreciate their support from then until now.

"And now... I'm going to take it back. You know to the good ole days. These are some of my favourites, if you know them please sing along. Alright?" I breathe into the microphone.

The audience roars, waving their homemade posters into the air as I hold back giggles at their excitement.

"Marlon, Tito, Jackie, Jermaine, and Randy... This is for you" I glance into the atmosphere, smiling as if somehow they can hear me.

"Michael... You, up front, now" Joseph commands, firmly.

Shaking nervously, I quickly scurry to the front.

"Joseph you know I'm always the front man..." Randy complains, clenching at his guitar in frustration.

He's right, he is the front man. Not me.