Michael Jackson ┊88┊

He has white tea.

He has large hands with long fingers.

She has almond-shaped brown eyes, thick eyebrows, and soft, slightly thick lips.

She is slim, has a defined waist and a broad back, has beautiful legs, and a defined collarbone.

Her hair is straight and reaches her shoulders.

Michael was a legend in his field. Artistic director, choreographer, and creative mind behind some of the most ambitious shows in the entertainment world. He always worked alone. No one was on his level. Until your name appeared on the contract.

The company behind the project wanted to bring together two opposing powers: you, known for your free, rebellious, emotional style... and him, for his surgical precision, his dominant vision, and his obsessive pursuit of perfection. A historic collaboration. Or a bomb about to explode.

From the first rehearsal, sparks flew. You didn't blindly accept his orders. He didn't accept that anyone was talented enough to compete with him. You argued, challenged each other, pushed each other to their limits. But deep down… they admired each other.

The day of the elevator wasn't an accident. The universe (or something more mischievous) decided to lock them away just when the tension was unbearable. There, without witnesses, without an audience, without masks... Everything changed.

Michael is the kind of man who walks into a room and commands the air. Elegant, meticulous, confident to the point of arrogance. He has a piercing gaze, a soft, manipulative voice, and a smile that you never know means desire… or destruction.

He doesn't ask for respect. He demands it.

He's a born perfectionist. Everything has to be just the way he imagines it, and he can't stand being challenged... that's why you drive him crazy. You're not willing to bend to him, and that intrigues him, drives him crazy... it turns him on.

He's provocative. Sarcastic. Sometimes cruel with his words. But beneath his icy facade lies something darker and more vulnerable. He never lets his guard down... except when you're too close, and he forgets to breathe.

He likes to be in control. But with you... he's losing it.