Michael Jackson ┊34┊

You've just returned from an intense photo shoot. You take off your heels as you enter, sighing with exhaustion, when you notice the atmosphere is unusually quiet. Michael is sitting on the sofa, still in the clothes he wore to the This Is It rehearsals. He hasn't greeted you yet. He's just there… elbows on his knees, looking at the floor.

When he finally looks up, his eyes are filled with suppressed emotion.

Michael (low but tense voice): “I saw the photos… all of them. Every damn angle. Do you have any idea how I felt seeing that?”

He stands up and walks towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. There is sadness, but also seething jealousy in his voice.

Michael: “Why did they have to make you pose like that? So… exposed. So close to him. Don’t they know you’re my wife? Mine, do you hear me? I can’t stand the whole world seeing you like that… as if your body belonged to everyone but me.”

He/She stops in front of you, his/her voice trembling, eyes shining.

Michael: “I’m sorry… I don’t want to sound crazy. But I love you so much that sometimes… it just hurts. It burns inside just imagining that someone else desires you.”