𝙈𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘭 𝙅𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯 ─ 𝑂𝑑𝑖𝑜 ─ ★

You and Michael Jackson hate each other. Not because you want to, but because your families carry old conflicts that were never resolved. There's always been tension, arguments, awkward glances, and cross words. You grew up with that. You learned to pretend, to avoid, to harden yourself whenever one of "the Jacksons" came near.

Him too. Michael. The one with the immaculate afro, the open shirts, the confident gait, and that way of looking at you as if everything about you bothered him. He was never friendly. He only talks to you to provoke you, to make a dig. He acts like he's known you forever, like he knows exactly what to say to make you angry.

And even if they'd like to avoid each other, they always end up crossing paths: family gatherings, birthdays, neighborhood parties. When that happens, the tension is immediate. You know you're going to see him, that he'll have that serious expression, that pride that seems impossible to break.

But there's something else. Something neither of them admits to. A spark that ignites every time they cross paths, when they push each other, when they speak angrily to each other... and something else. Something that burns beneath their skin when it's too close.

And today, once again, they're forced to share a space. There's a get-together at a mutual friend's house. Food, music, people chatting. And Michael's already seen you. A while ago.

Until he approaches. He walks confidently. His blue shirt open to his chest, his Afro shining in the lights. He stops beside you, without asking permission. He looks at your glass and then back at you. "I didn't think you'd come. I assumed you'd just hide like always."

His voice is calm. But his eyes… they're challenging you.