Chapter Text
— 1976
Michael met the love of his life, the mother of his children, and wife on a random January day in 1976, but he didn’t know about it yet.
Months have passed since he met the only daughter of the Soleil family, and it’s a miracle the girl never tires of constantly running miles in his mind. Michael has always believed in magic and its effect on mundane things; one piece of evidence is the songs he writes for the Jackson 5 brand. It’s just as the music producers around him said—anything he touches turns into gold because of the magic in his hands. However, the kind of sorcery that sparked his first conversation with a certain blonde is completely different from how he composed songs. That time, it didn’t come from him; instead, it was almost like the universe ordained it to happen, like all his life, Michael was supposed to meet the beautiful Odette Soleil. That they were meant to talk about books as if it were a secret they would only share for many years to come.
She looked like a dream—a fairy tale princess come to life.
Michael once had a Disney movie marathon with his mother in the sitting room at Hayvenhurst, and one film can only be compared to the way Odette held herself in front of him. The way Odette’s fringe curls on her forehead, the headband, the large blonde curls, her carefully-assembled attire—oh, Michael thinks he found the real-life Sleeping Beauty. The kindness she holds is reminiscent of the Disney princess, too.
As any growing boy in their teens, what Michael first noticed was how pretty she was—probably the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in all his years, and he’s seen a lot of pretty women in his heightening career as a musical artist. The moment their eyes met, lyrics and melodies started playing in his mind. Inspiration hit him like a roaring truck. It was like she was born from tendrils of fairy magic—most definitely from his dreams. Because of how stunned he was by her, words escaped him. He became a stuttering mess; a memory that will haunt him every time he remembers it.
Pretty girls have a way of turning him into an idiot, and with the lovely Odette looking like that, Michael’s a goner.
The next thing he noticed was the books in her arms—how many there were in between her frail limbs, the care she gave them even when they were pressed so closely against each other, and their titles. They were pieces of literature that he thought were criticized for being too childish, when readers from the older demographic enjoyed them. Conversation flowed like a river, and it was the first time Michael ever talked to someone his age without them sweating buckets at the sound of his name. At first, he was expecting Odette to be a suppressed fan who tried to give him normalcy, but the more he talked to her, the more it dawned on him that she had no idea who he was. It was the happiest moment of his life—to be able to talk without the burden of being Michael Jackson.
I think books have a way of going to the people who are meant to have them.
He hopes what she said applies to people as well. Meeting her felt right, and nothing in his life can change it.
Michael knows that she lives in Encino, but after leaving Motown with his brothers (except Jermaine), the atmosphere in Hayvenhurst has been brittle for the past few months. Every movement in the house should be pre-calculated; you must have a destination in mind and one route before returning to your room. All he can do is write enough songs for the band, and think about Odette time and time again. Not once did he dare to venture out of the gates of their family home to try to talk to the Soleil family as a guise to establish connections with the newest family in the neighborhood. (Only with their daughter, that is). Maybe he should have taken that offer to meet the Soleils from Mother a long time ago.
“Okay, who is it?”
The Odette haze he’s under dissipates in the blink of an eye. Closing his eyes, Michael lets out a groan before looking at Marlon with narrowed eyes. “What are you even talking about?”
Some of his brothers still visit Hayvenhurst even after they married and moved out of the estate. The most recent marriage in the family was Marlon’s, and with it, Michael lost one of his closest confidantes in the family. Though Marlon sometimes frequents their estate with his wife for lunches and dinners, Michael continues to be slightly miserable about it (LaToya, too, for different reasons that he doesn’t bother naming). The house has become quieter, meals go on without the family members eating together, and most of the time, Michael spends his days inside his room or at the house's studio and practice room. He’s even starting to miss being in Marlon’s company and wreaking havoc within the house, but now, he regrets ever missing his older brother.
Marlon leans on the doorway of Michael’s room with his arms crossed. The younger boy doesn’t miss his brother’s wary glance at the cages housing his beloved pet rats. A silent question is thrown at him, do you still have those creatures? Michael rolls his eyes in response and gestures for Marlon to start talking. The older boy shrugs, “The girl, Mike, who is it?”
“Are you kidding me?” Michael huffs. “Get out of my room.”
“Come on, tell me. You know I miss bugging you.”
“I’ll unleash my rats on you, you schmuck.”
“Now, now, is that any way to talk to your favorite brother?”
Michael contemplates throwing the hardest pillow at him. “I don’t have a favorite brother. Now, get out because there’s no girl, and there won’t be.” It’s getting hard to maintain the soft voice he should be using when Marlon is being pesky.
“I know there’s a girl.”
“Will you quit it. There ain’t one. Just go down to your wife, Marlon.”
Marlon laughs while shaking his head. “She’s talking to Mother right now, probably about updates on our household or whatever they’re getting on when they’re conspiring.” He pushes himself off from the doorway to make his way to Michael’s bed. The younger boy has no choice but to give him space. “I wanted to annoy someone anyway—Randy’s practicing, Janet’s going to throw one of her toys at me if I attempt to knock on her door, and don’t get me started on LaToya.”
“So, I’m the last choice, huh?”
The older boy shrugs.
A small bout of silence settles between the two brothers. It’s been a while since they’ve been in the same room—just the two of them. Not to mention that they once shared a room when they were younger. With all the annoyance inside his body, Michael begrudgingly accepted that sitting with his brother might not be the worst thing on this day. He silently curses himself for falling into this opening Marlon gives him, and finds himself admitting, “So what if there’s a girl?”
Marlon cackles and claps his hands together, making Michael jump in his place. “I knew it!”
“Announce it to the entire neighborhood, will ya?”
“Wait ‘till the others—”
Now, Michael sits up straight. “No talking about this with the family. Marlon, I swear if I hear one thing of this from Mother, I know who to strangle.”
“Look at you!” Marlon thumps Michael’s chest with a closed fist, with the latter letting out a groan at the impact. “Mikey’s finally showing interest in girls.”
“Can you stop? I’ve always been interested.”
“That’s not what I thought when we were touring around back in the days.”
Michael looks at him funny. “That’s because I’m a child, Marlon.”
“You’re a year younger than me, and I had fun before meeting Carol.”
“I hope your wife knows about this.”
“Psh, Carol and I are solid, Mike. The past is in the past—no need to dig around it.” Marlon nudges his shoulder against a jaded Michael. “Now, do I know this girl?” He receives a flat look from his younger brother. “Don’t give me that look. I might know more girls than you expect.”
“That’s a load of bull. And that sounds worse than you think.”
Michael watches his brother wince. “Yeah, it sounded better in my head.”
He laughs while clutching his belly. There are only a handful of people who can extract a genuine laugh or two from Michael, and one of them is Marlon—two peas in a pod and two birds of the same feather. “You’re such an idiot,” he tells him while shaking his head.
“Hey, respect your elders!” Marlon then softens his tone, “Who is she, Mike? Is it that Dorothy girl from the musical you liked so much? She was cute, and you seem so infatuated with her.”
“Stephanie?”
Marlon expectantly raises his eyebrows.
Even before he was fascinated with the musical The Wiz, Michael held musical theater close to his heart. Though they were not seen on stage, the films he sometimes watched with Mother were musicals. Singing in the Rain was a favorite of his that he would watch over and over again. Theater helped him explore more musical genres than the ones he grew up in, and the passion people had for that was so admirable that Michael couldn’t help but think they were stars in their own right. So, with the news that there was an all-Black Broadway rendition of The Wiz, he immediately bought tickets. In a time when being different from others in so many ways was ostracized, having an all-Black cast was like music to Michael’s ears. At first, he simply attended the show thrice because he couldn’t get enough of it, but on his third visit, it was then that he noticed Stephanie.
She was older than him and more experienced in theater at such a young age—a feat he would always admire to this day. Not to mention, she’s cute; shorter than him and the perfect height to hug close to his chest. Michael was instantly more interested in the production than before. He was often teased by some of his brothers, especially Marlon and Tito, since he would sometimes fly to New York just to see one more run of the musical. Yes, Stephanie was magnetic in her performances, and Michael sometimes wished there was something more between them, but in the end, all they ever did was hold hands and go on dates so secretive that it was hard to love her loudly.
That’s the thing about him, Michael realized. With all the girls and women he was attracted to, he’d want more. He loves more, demands more, and learns more about them to the point that the feelings they reciprocate won’t be enough. It’s probably why Stephanie told him to figure himself out before their relationship burned, never to be salvaged again, before they even tried to work.
Michael smiles a little, eyes fixated on nothing. “Nah, it’s not her.”
“So, a new one, then?”
He doesn’t like it when some of his brothers talk about girls like they’re ready to be disposed of. During their touring days, when they didn’t have any wives, he would witness them take multiple girls to their hotel rooms for a single night. Michael narrows his eyes at Marlon, but answers him nonetheless, “I met her a few months back in a bookstore while I was out. She was shopping for books for one of the children’s homes here. We picked the same book. Lost track of time while talking, and before I knew it, Bill was ushering me to the car and out of the store.” Possibly out of her life, too, Appplehead, because you didn’t make the effort in knocking on their family’s house (Michael doesn’t know where their house is.) “Nothing much happened.”
“Mother noticing you moping around like a lovesick puppy is not nothing, Mike,” Marlon says.
“She told me she lives around here—in Encino.”
His brother perks up. “Now, maybe I do know her.”
That makes Michael stop. Mentally hitting his forehead with his hand, he only realizes that the key to knowing more about Odette is asking Marlon. “She mentioned that her brothers played basketball with you guys.”
“Oh!” Marlon exclaims. “The Soleils?! No.”
Michael laughs, his cheeks burning. “Yes,” he nods while grinning so wide that it makes his eyes crinkle.
“No!”
“Yes!”
“Odette Soleil?!”
Michael giggles at the sound of her name. “That’s her.”
“No way!” Marlon looks like he’s more excited than Michael. “Mike, she’s an actress!”
He blinks, not registering what Marlon says at first. “W-What?”
“While Carol and I were on a date a few days ago, we went to see a movie in the cinema, and it’s Odette Soleil’s film. She’s playing some bullied girl, and she has these witchy powers where she can move things with her mind. If Mother knew about me watching it, she might go to an early grave.” Marlon shakes his head, his hands getting more animated as he talks. “The point is, she’s awesome, Mike. I really got scared at the end because she’s so good at acting. Carol even had to remind me that all the blood was probably fake. The poor girl was drenched in it, and it was so horrible to watch. You should watch it, too, while it’s in the theaters. I think you’d enjoy it. All I can say is that Hollywood hit a jackpot by casting Odette Soleil as Carrie; the girl might even have more projects in the near future. God, her screams and expressions,” Marlon shudders, “they’re so horrific.”
An actress. Odette is an actress. The beautiful blonde in the children’s section of the bookstore is in the limelight as a rising starlet in the making. Michael’s heart gains a staccato beat just thinking about it. She was so gentle and so bright while giving him her recommended books that he couldn’t begin to imagine her drenched in red blood. Not just any movie, a horror movie. From what he can pick up in Marlon’s rambling, it’s about a girl who’s bullied in school and has no choice but to make everything stop with her occult powers. Odette, as a bullied student, is something that Michael probably won’t handle, even when it’s just pretend.
However, there’s no denying that she carries the poise and light that will push her to become an acclaimed actress.
Warmth settles inside Michael’s chest. He had the privilege to see her before the entire world did. Everybody is raving about how she looks as this Carrie character, but Michael has already seen her juggling piles of books in her arms so that the children she teaches can have new books to enjoy.
“Gosh, Mike, I didn’t know blondes would be your type of girl.”
Michael shyly fiddles with the hem of his sleeves. “I don’t have a type, Marlon. Meeting her felt like it was meant to happen, you know? I know it sounds silly, but I think she’s like Aurora from Sleeping Beauty.” He looks at his older brother, who is staring at him with a fond look that he can only see from Mother most of the time. That alone makes his cheeks warm up. “It is silly.”
“No, it’s not,” Marlon tells him. “How about this?”
“What?”
Marlon leans forward with that familiar glint in his eyes. “The next time I play basketball with Jermaine and Odette’s brothers, I’m going to help you by easing it on them.”
“Don’t you dare!”
This time, Michael hits Marlon with his pillow really hard.
It’s a crisp December morning in Encino, and Michael has been adjusting the collar of his shirt and wringing his tie for the past minute while walking behind his mother along the neighborhood’s streets.
The anticipation of reaching a certain estate in the neighborhood sits heavily on Michael. He hasn’t confessed to his current fixation on the family’s daughter, and the thought of knocking on her house makes his sweat trickle down into his shirt. He is more aware of his surroundings, even with the hat disguising his identity, and suddenly, the many copies of religious magazines nestling in his book bag weigh every step he takes. There’s no going back on his word now. Katherine has already roped him into her door-to-door work—his nervousness shouldn’t outweigh his being a good son.
That doesn’t erase the fact that Michael’s thinking about it too much. How will he act when he sees her again after months? Marlon told him that there are no problems with him being himself, but what if that’s clogged with how nervous he is about being in the same room as her? Then, he’s imagining what she’s wearing—would she have her headband again? Would she look like Sleeping Beauty in her clothes? Oh, what is he thinking? Of course, Odette will always look like Aurora. Michael doesn’t register that they are walking up the driveway of an elegant estate, not much different from theirs, but carries a unique opulence.
“Michael,” Katherine calls, making him jump a little. She looks at him with that same look she’s been giving since he knew how to prank people. Behave. It lasts for a minute before she finally knocks on the door.
The heavy oak door opens to reveal someone who’s not Odette.
Instead of her, a man who looks to be around Tito's or Jermaine’s age stands with a polite yet unreadable expression on his face. He’s clad in dress pants and a tucked-in loose polo shirt, a simple combination, but he still manages to look good in it. He doesn’t gasp or fluster in the way the other neighbors did whenever Michael helped Katherine spread the gospel. Rather than looking at Michael first, the man’s eyes land on Katherine with understanding blooming over the unreadable expression he was sporting earlier. Noting Mother’s gentle dignity, the young man then looks at Michael standing almost timidly behind her.
“Good morning,” Katherine starts her usual dialogue. “We are sharing a hopeful message from the Scriptures today. It wouldn’t take too much of your time.”
The young man opens the door further ajar to give them a glimpse of the house’s interior. “Please, come inside out of the morning chill.” He possesses the same accent as Odette. “We were always told by our mother to never turn away those who speak of divine things.”
“Oh,” Mother exclaims in mild surprise. She looks back at Michael, whose face shows blatant confusion. Usually, they just do this in the doorways of houses—talk about one of the Scriptures, give copies of the magazines, and go to the next household. However, Michael remembers distinctly how Katherine mentioned a year ago that she was also welcomed by the Soleil matriarch into their home while she was spreading the gospel in the neighborhood. “Well, thank you.”
While they’re being guided by the young man to a sitting room, he turns to look at them over his shoulder. “My name’s Julian. I think it was my mother who always received your gospels, Mrs. Jackson.”
“I believe it was. Your house is still so lovely, Julian.”
“Thank you,” he replies. “Pardon the Christmas decorations; it’s just a family favorite holiday.”
Katherine waves her hand with a smile. “I have no problems with it.”
Michael has always been observant. Every tiny detail will be picked by his meticulous eyes. It starts with the Christmas decorations. They’re not over-the-top, just like in the films he watches. The most extravagant decoration is the tree on one side of the room—it’s dazzling with Christmas lights, baubles, a star, and overflowing with gifts at the bottom. Some presents are wrapped with care, while there are others that Michael thinks have seen better days. He never celebrated the holiday before, partly because of his mother’s beliefs and mostly due to Joseph making him and his brothers work on any day of the week.
Then, his eyes would slide over Julian. The black-haired man has a knowing glint in his eyes. Michael realizes he knows. Of course, he does. Everybody knows the Jacksons. Maybe it’s just Odette who’s been living under a rock. He presses his lips at the endearing thought. Schooling his face in a neutral facade, Michael ceases all thoughts of this man’s sister in his head, for fear of embarrassing himself in front of her family.
Even though the atmosphere is softer than Hayvenhurst, Michael doesn’t lose the tension framing his shoulders. He sits by the edge of the sofa beside his mother, the leather book bag on his lap. Julian asks them their preferred beverage (orange juice for him and iced tea for his mother) before disappearing in the direction of the kitchen. They don’t have to wait long because Julian returns with three drinks—two iced teas with mint leaves and an orange juice for him. Setting them on coasters, the young man then settles into his seat.
Just as Katherine opens her Bible to share a verse she’s chosen for the day, a door from the second landing swings open.
“Sorry, that would be my sister,” Julian looks at the stairs.
Michael’s heart starts beating wildly.
True enough, Odette walks down the stairs in ballet clothes—pink tights and a leotard with a white wrap skirt covering her hips. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a perfect, tight bun, her posture immaculate as she hums a classical tune. Right when Michael thinks she’s already interesting enough. Odette stops halfway down the stairs when she sees the visitors in their home’s sitting room.
Her eyes lock onto Michael, and Michael doesn’t look away.
The little moment between them is not unnoticed. Katherine, from whom Michael gets his perceptiveness, notices the sudden rigidity in his sitting form once Odette enters the scene. She looks between him and the beautiful, poised girl by the stairs, and instantly knows what is going on. Michael curses himself for being so damn obvious.
“Bonnibel, were you practicing?” Julian asks.
Odette shakes herself off from looking at Michael before directing her attention to her brother. “Yeah,” she replies. “Hello, Mrs. Jackson,” Odette pauses, almost shyly, something that all the inhabitants of the room notice, “Michael.”
“Hi,” Michael softly greets.
“You two know each other?”
“You’ve already met Michael?”
Come the simultaneous questions from Julian and Katherine, respectively.
Michael chuckles nervously.
“We met in a bookshop a few months ago,” Odette answers for the two of them, now standing at the foot of the stairs. “Talked for a little bit.”
“So, you’ve made a new friend, Michael?” Katherine hopefully asks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
For sure, he’s starting to resemble a tomato. Even with his darker skin tone, he blushes so obviously, which is why some of his family members nicknamed him Applehead while growing up. “Uhm, it slipped my mind, Mother.”
Katherine doesn’t buy that excuse. “You do ballet, Odette?”
“Yes, Mrs. Jackson, it’s what I mostly did back in London.”
“That’s wonderful! You must be great at it.”
Odette lets out a modest laugh. “Not so much, now. I’ve gotten rusty.”
“Bonnibel, Mrs. Jackson and Michael have stopped by to share some gospel. Why don’t you join us? You can have my iced tea if you want.”
Julian directs the conversation back to the reason why Michael is here with his mother. In some way, he commends the older boy for doing it—not because he doesn’t like being in the Soleil’s house—since Mother still has a lot of doors to knock on, and time keeps on ticking. Still, Michael feels bad that Odette’s resting time after her ballet practice gets interrupted.
Michael followed Marlon’s advice of sneaking inside a theater with Bill Bray once to watch Odette’s film, Carrie. His brother was right—if Mother knew about any of his sons watching almost occultic, she would douse them in Scriptures and remind them to always stay true to their faith. But despite the themes portrayed in the film, Michael is enraptured with Odette. Her gentle demeanor, as herself, shines through in certain lights when she was playing Carrie White. Watching her be the shy, sheltered girl with a devout helicopter parent tugged on his heartstrings, strong enough for him to have the sudden urge to protect her. The scene where her prom dress was revealed was ingrained in Michael’s mind—she looked like a memory only he dreamed of, a dainty flower he wanted to admire. He wanted to have a picture of her in that dress and stick it in his room.
He can’t believe he’s sitting with her in her family’s sitting room.
As she gracefully sits down beside her brother, Odette lightly brushes her ballet skirt and flashes a serene smile at Michael. Katherine begins to speak about paradise on earth, but for Michael, sitting in this silent sanctuary with the girl he secretly adores, it already feels like he’s found it—his paradise on earth.