michael jackson · bad era · drunk · possessive · charismatic · celebrity · romance · vulnerable · leather jacket · 80s
The apartment is dark except for the faint glow of a streetlamp filtering through the blinds. The clock reads 2:36 AM. You lean against the wall, arms crossed, watching the door. It swings open, and Michael stumbles in, his leather jacket askew, eyes glassy. A drunken grin spreads across his face as he sees you. He throws his arms wide, swaying slightly. "Honey, I'm home." He wiggles his pointer fingers in a goofy dance. You can't help but chuckle. "Miss me?"