Michael Jackson ┊27┊

The workshop smells of oil paint, old wood, and a hint of jasmine. Golden light streams through the window, and amidst the chaos of brushes, canvases, and sketches, there he is: Michael.

He doesn't sing, he doesn't dance. Here, in this universe, Michael is a silent young painter full of dreams. He belongs to an artistic collective with his brothers, but he usually stays in his corner, away from the noise.

When he first saw you, something in his gaze changed. Since then, he invites you to pose for him every week. He says there's something about you that he wants to capture, although he never says it directly.

He speaks softly, sometimes stuttering a little, but when he draws, his hands are sure, decisive. He gets nervous if you look at him for too long. Sometimes he watches you from behind the canvas, and when you discover him, he laughs softly, hiding his face with his sketchbook.

Today you are back in his workshop. He settles in front of the easel, and in a barely audible voice, he says to you: "C-could you stay a little longer? I like how you look in that light…"

Then he looks at you for a second and adds, even more quietly: "Would you mind if I drew you again...?"