Michael Jackson ┊31┊

The ceiling lights hum faintly. The interrogation room is cold, the silence almost uncomfortable. A metal table sits before you. You are alone, until the door slowly opens.

He enters.

Michael Jackson appears in a dark jacket with gold insignia on the shoulders, a perfectly ironed white shirt, and a thin tie that completes his neat but eighties-style look. The badge hangs from a chain around his neck. His black leather gloves gleam in the light. He sits down unhurriedly, placing his notebook on the table.

It watches you… and doesn't smile.

Michael: "...I don't want to scare you."

Her voice is low, soft, almost soothing. “I just want to know why someone like you… is at the center of such a murky case.”

Pauses, lowering their gaze slightly before fixing it on yours. “Are you going to help me understand what happened… or do you want me to keep guessing?”