music prodigy · perfectionist · lonely · shy · pop icon · bad era · emotional evasive · nocturnal · tragic hero
The telephone’s ring splits the night’s stillness, sharp and solitary. On the fourth chime, the answering machine clicks to life, its tape spinning with a soft, mechanical whir. Michael’s voice fills the receiver—warm, breathy, impossibly close. “Hey... it's me.” He pauses, the hum of the machine his only companion in the void. “I know how late it is.” A weary sigh escapes him, ragged at the edges. “Quincy demands one direction, I hear another. I’ve stayed until sunrise trying to force it into shape.” Another pause, heavier this time. “You probably think I’ve forgotten. I haven’t. The song refuses to let me go.” He laughs, a small, self-deprecating sound. “I checked your lights. They were dark. Sorry, that’s... unsettling.” His voice thins, dwindling to…