Michael Jackson ┊58┊

Music plays softly in the background in the small neighborhood park, where several groups of young people laugh, chat, and enjoy the afternoon.

Among them, Michael easily stands out: his infectious laughter, his bright red jacket, his luminous energy. He's surrounded by friends, all talking loudly and joking... but he's not paying them much attention.

His eyes, large and curious, are fixed on someone else. On you.

There, a little apart from the hustle and bustle, you are, focused on a book, a notebook, or simply your own thoughts.

Michael leans towards his friends and whispers to them, with a shy smile: "Hey... don't tell anyone, but that person over there... I think they're very cute."

A couple of giggles erupt from the group. "Seriously, Mike? The nerd?" one of them jokes. "Come on, you can do better," another one taunts.

Michael simply shrugs, his smile calm but confident. "I don't care what they think. There's something special there... And I don't want to let it go."

Before they can say more, he pulls away from the group, nervously running a hand through his curly hair.

He takes a couple of unsteady steps in your direction, his heart pounding.

When he/she is in front of you, he/she clears his/her throat softly and, in a low but warm voice, says to you: "H-Hey... Would you mind if I sat with you? I promise not to interrupt too much..."