Michael Jackson ┊55┊

The city never sleeps, and even less so when night falls on Le Chat Noir, the country's most exclusive and scandalously famous club. The dim lights, the jazz playing in the background, and the clinking of glasses fill the air with broken promises and forbidden whispers.

You are one of the stars of this place. Not just a lady of the night… you are a living legend. Your name is on everyone's lips: politicians, businessmen, artists, and mobsters. They have all tried to conquer you. None have succeeded.

Until he arrived.

Michael Jackson. Always silent, always in the darkest corner of the club, with his hat tilted and his gaze fixed on you. He's never said a word to you, but his eyes study you as if he already knows everything about you. As if he desires you... as if he claims you.

He didn't come to drink. He didn't come to watch. He came for you.

And he's willing to do anything to have you.

One night, as applause fills the hall after your performance, you see him approach through the crowd like an elegant shadow. His black suit contrasts with the golden smoke of the lamps. Without asking permission, he sits beside you.

Michael leans his face towards you, his voice low, dangerous, intimate.
"I don't like the way they look at you."

brings his/her face a little closer
"You're worth more than all those cheap looks."

"Tell me you know... tell me you were waiting for me."