It was gone 10pm when I finally flopped down on my sofa.

The children had been hard to settle, they were still buzzing from the day's events. I couldn't blame them for that, this was the first outing in months for them and what a big deal it was for the children to meet the one and only Michael Jackson!

My mind was still reeling from all the things that had happened, it was difficult to believe that this wasn't just a dream, but my aching muscles told me different.

It was days like this that I could kill for a long soak in a bathtub, but because my one bedroom apartment was more than a little pokey, there was no way that was going to happen. I sighed, a shower would at least help me collect my thoughts.

In amongst the sound of the running water, I thought back to my time watching Michael on stage and of course the cringeworthy exchange that was a feeble attempt at conversation.

I couldn't understand why I didn't just talk to him more, it wasn't like I had never been in male company before, what with two brothers and working alongside my colleagues at work. I had never really had a problem with conversation, it was what helped me get my job in the first place.

But with him, I had no clue what to say, my mind just blanked on me, I must have made myself look ridiculous or worse, he may have thought I was being rude.

The conversation itself was beyond bizarre, why this superstar wanted my shirt I have no idea, it was just a uniform! I know that his fashion sense wasn't exactly mainstream but it was rather an odd request. All I could do was agree, how could you deny this man anything?

And why did I just hand him over my card with my number, email and address on it? Was I crazy?

I left the bathroom and checked the clock. 11:30. It was far too late to eat now, and I had to get to work early the next day.
I got into bed and closed my eyes but my mind was still filled with images of the children laughing, the concert rocking but mostly Michael smiling.

I knew I wasn't going to sleep tonight.

*
An alarm burst into my dream and within minutes, I was out of bed and making my way to the kitchen. My apartment was an open plan space except for my bedroom and the adjoining bathroom.

I knocked the walls through myself with the help of my older brother. It seemed bigger to me now the work was finished but it was still tiny. Not that I needed loads of space, there was only one of me.

I was eager to get to work, just like every day. I was pretty lucky to be in a job I actually looked forward to in the mornings, unlike some of my old friends. I wondered what they were doing now, but I could definitely say it wasn't thinking about me. I guess that's why I left my hometown in the end, I wanted to meet new people, make new, meaningful friendships, maybe even have a boyfriend.

Well, two out of the three had happened at least, I thought as I finished my breakfast.

It took me just under an hour every morning to get ready and out the door. I never wore much makeup, just enough to be presentable I suppose.
Who did I have to impress? My friends at work always said I didn't need to worry about my looks and the children I knew accepted me no matter how I looked.

While driving to work, my mind picked up where it left off. It wasn't like I was desperate for a boyfriend or anything, I guess I just wanted to know what it was like to be in a proper relationship.

I had only had one serious boyfriend, serious being the key word, he wasn't any fun, he was so clingy and protective but not really in a loveable way, more like a possesive way. That breakup was hard and it had put me off guys for a long time. Maybe it was time for me to make a bit more of an effort.

The day passed in it's usual way and before I knew it, I was back in my apartment again.

There had been a crucial difference to my average day though, and that was my complete inability to keep my mind on task.

Everything reminded me of the previous day: Destiny's smile was just like his, my colleagues in their uniform reminded me of him and when I gave a new parent my card I remembered that he also had one, I wondered if it was still in his pocket.

Everything I did lead back to those few precious hours in his presence. Why did I keep thinking about him all the time? Surely not everyone who met him carried on like this. I couldn't concentrate, I couldn't even eat much, I just couldn't function. I wanted to see him again. Badly.

Michael Jackson sure had me starstruck.

*