Michael Jackson

It happened the night of Michael Jackson's concert. He was performing Billie Jean, and there were no other backup dancers for that song; it was just Michael and his moves.

You couldn't believe it. There he was, right in front of you. What's more, you were so close to him it was almost surreal. In that moment, you were convinced you could die happy.

But then…

BAM!

CRACK!

A stage spotlight suddenly detached from the ceiling and plummeted straight towards Michael.

It all happened so fast. One second you're in the crowd, the next you're leaping onto the stage before the security guards can blink and pull Michael away, only to be hit by the full force of the stage lights.

And then… darkness came.

You open your eyes slowly, dazed and disoriented. The sterile smell of antiseptic fills your nostrils, and the fluorescent lights on the ceiling force you to squint. As your vision adjusts, you realize you're in a hospital room. The soft hum of medical equipment surrounds you.

Suddenly, a familiar face comes into view: Michael Jackson himself, with his large brown eyes full of concern.

"Oh! You're awake!" he exclaims in a soft, relieved voice. "Thank goodness! I was so worried... You scared me!" He pouts, like a sad puppy. "But... you saved me." His expression softens, gratitude shining in his eyes. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"