"This right here..." He lulls, tapping his foot against the wooden floor.

"This is your new home. That over there..." He continues pointing towards the metallic pole across from us.

"That's your wife. You make love to her every night when you perform. Each time you step onto this stage, you renew your vowels to your wife. Each time you slide across this stage, you claim it as your home. This is it Michael. This is what you wanted" He smiles, patting my back gently.

"Quincy, I'm a little terrified..." I admit, catching a glimpse of the sign above us.

Motown Twenty-Five: Yesterday, Today, and Forever.

"Michael... You have a gift. Now I already had to pull you, don't make this harder by thinking negative. This will be your last timeThis will be your last time you will perform with your brothers, then you'll break away gracefully. Okay?" He assures me with a toothy grin.

Quincy is right. This is the last time the world we announce me as Michael Jackson, the lead singer of The Jackson's. I will now be recognized as Michael Jackson, just Michael Jackson.

This is mine to own...

Arguments, frustrations, tears, sweat, animosity, and finally conclusion has led up to this day. Days, weeks, and months equate to a quickly passing year. I've rehearsed tirelessly through out the months, pacing meetings as I watched my dream unfold. And now here it is, within hours I'll be well on my way to start my journey.

"Jerry... I need a little more bass in that last drop... Like bam! I want it nice an dramatic" I instruct into the microphone.

During the last couple of months I have been working to the bone to make sure my first show runs smoothly. Every classic dance number, every tap of my toes against the staged, and every note, worked to perfection. I couldn't ask for a better crew to endure this with.

Though many of my requests for my tour were not fulfilled, I have decided to latch onto my harness and continue climbing.

My harness, Jesse. When she could be rehearsing for her own numbers and working towards climbing her own mountain of success, she has chosen to join me in this new chapter of my life. I was bewildered when she first offered, though I knew originally I wanted her to accommodate me on the tour. I couldn't be more blessed that my biggest fan will be there witnessing my first step in my new adventure.

"I need the microphones a little louder, I want the fans in the back to hear as well. Please and thank you" I instruct into my microphone.

The feeling of constructing my own concert, my own tour is exhilarating. I'm raising this as if it was a child from the ground up.Every effect, every dramatic beat of the drums, every spot the spotlight shines on, I control. If that doesn't give me a rush, then the soon occupants of those concert chairs and stands will duly give me that.

"Wow... " She gasps.

I turn towards her, a smile spreading my lips as I blush before her. Her simple attire so befitting of her natural beauty. smokey grey crew neck sweater, deep washed out skinny's, funneled with her infamous low cut canvas sneakers. Just beautiful.

"Hey babygirl, I thought you were out sight seeing?" I greet her, pecking her lips gently.

"Well, I thought I would come by and see a master at work" She compliments, giving the stage a quick glance.

"Hi boys!" She giggles, to the gawking band behind us.

The people I have chosen to accommodate me on my first solo tour are truly one in a million. Each dancer, vocalist, and band member has brought something to the table that no one in the can. From the magnificent vocalist Sheryl Crow to the wondrous beats of Ricky Lawson. I couldn't have asked for a better team, we all became very fond of each other at the beginning of this monumental embark.

"Hi Jesse!" They chime, cackling at an inside joke between them.

Ignoring their ignorance and childishness, I roll my eyes and take my Jesse's hand. Cuing the band mates to take five I direct Jesse towards my dressing room.

"One-hundred-sixty-three shows in sixteen months..." Jesse sighs, hopping on top of the vanity counter top.

I nod, glancing at my array of costumes. Studs, buckles, leather, badges, jackets, trousers, you name it, I have it. I want this tour to be spectacular. I want people to still gorge onward about this tour years and years for now. I want the world to know that I am more than my brothers company, I'm an individual whom rightfully acclaimed this chapter in my life. It's mine, no one else's.

"Yes, first leg here in beautiful Tokyo, Japan. I still can't believe mayor Yasushi Oshima handed me the key to the city for Osaka. I'll never forget that" I sigh dreamily.

On the days leading up until today, I have been engaged in many events. My first event being the ceremonial Key To The City convocation. I was well honored when Mister Oshima invited me into his city hall of Osaka. What made it even more amazing is the fact that Jesse was able to witness this all with me.

In addition to the ceremonial Key To The City hand off, I also learned a gruesome back story of a young five-year-old boy, Yoshiaki Hagiwara, who was kidnapped and murdered in his home town. I found his story so touching, that I have made it my duty to dedicate every single one of my Japanese concerts to the deceased child as well as I gfted Hagiwara's parents with twelve-thousand yen (Japanese dollars), as a sentiment of my condolences.

"That was amazing. It's amazing how many people can love you, this one man" She continues to marvel.

I feel myself blushing at my reminisce as well as her compliments.

"Well that's why I give my all to my fans. Whether I'm sick or in well health, they are going to receive the best show that I can offer. I owe that to them" I smile.

Jesse nods, hopping from the vanity only to waltz over towards my costumes. Her fingers glide across the abundance of material, eyeing the decorum of each outfits design. Watching her, I smile proudly as her eyes set on "Dirty Diana".

The "Dirty Diana" costume consist of my infamous white v-neck tee, my newest obsession of arm bands with buckles, an oversized, white button up, silver spandex zip up, and the following continues with my array of zippers and buckles for my trousers and ends with my signature coal loafers.

This tour, I not only want to showcase my new sounds that appear on the Bad album, I also want to showcase my new evolved style. Opposed to my sparkles and rhinestone's of Thriller, Bad presents me as a punk rock omega, with an dangerous flare. It's threatening, thought provoking, and even sexy, much like the correlating songs. Not expected of Michael Jackson, not at all.

"I see you like them?" I interrupt her.

Turning away from the clothing rack she nods.

"Your outfits are amazing. I do wonder how do you breathe with so much space taken up" She giggles.

I furrow my eyebrows, trying to find the amusement in her statement as well.

"Space taken up? Jess what are you..." I pause, glancing between her and the clothing rack.

"Girl, I swear you are some type of dirty" I tease, stepping over to her.

She giggles, shrugging innocently. I swear even in her simplest of form or her simplest of words, there is never a dull moment with this woman. She keeps me on my toes, but somehow surrenders to my will. Submissive and feisty, just how I like it.

"I have no idea what you are talking about Mister Jackson..." She lulls, stepping away from me.

"Oh you know exactly babygirl. I-"

"Hey Mike, five minutes are over. Come on" Frank's nasal voice rings from the other side of my door.

Sighing heavily, I press my forehead against Jesse's.

"You were saved by Frank babygirl..." I smirk, pecking her lips.

Her lengthy arms find their place around my neck as her eyes challenges me.

"Who said I would need saving? I'm not scared of wittle Michael Jackson...." She mocks, her smirk even more challenging than her stare.

Pressing her against the wall, in one swift movement her arms are pinned above her and my eyes dagger hungrily into hers.

"Babygirl you know there is nothing 'wittle' about this Jackson. Now if you behave, I might take you out before Bubbles arrive. If not, Bubbles won't be the only one monkeying around, okay?" I threaten.

Restraining from my grip, she glares at me flirtatiously, managing to lean into my ear.

"Why not cut the corny threats and handle me now like a man, Mister Jackson?" She purrs.

I will admit, her words are sending shivers down my spine and elsewhere, but I refuse to loose control. I won't give her that pleasure of victory.

"Look babygirl, I'm going to walk away for now, but when I return I want you ready and well prepared to eat those words" I breathe, releasing her wrists.

"Now go on and behave, I'll be back" I instruct firmly, pecking her lips slowly before turning to walk away.

"Yes daddy" She smirks, biting down on her bottom lip as I steal one last glance from her.

I swear she is nothing but a tease, and is definitely growing bolder and bolder with her sensuality. I'm not complaining at all.

"Dammit Mike, we are on a strict schedule. Focus" Frank scowls, puffing at his death stick.

Rolling my eyes, I proceed to walk back onto the stage for a continuance of last minute rehearsals. During these rehearsals, I silently curse myself for creating the lovely monster awaiting my dressing room.

Through all of my recent trials, I have been led into this moment. This very moment I only dreamed of as an adolescent. I never could have realized or envisioned that I would be here, but here I am ready to give myself and my talent to my awaiting fans. It's not a feeling of fabrication nor is it a mirage. I have come to this very stump to show the world, whose Bad...

To Be Continued...