After the quake had subsided, his hand remained resting for a few moments. Only for a slight moment, but because of the surrounding silence all the more perceptible. I rose up, my legs trembling, his hand immediately slipping away, as if to say that he had not intended the touch to be any form of intrusion. I tried to push away my emotions, which I felt bubbling up like hot knit, for to shed tears in the company of such a man would have meant the death of my pride, although at the same time I truly felt that it would not have mattered. Nervously, I pulled my clothes straight, dared to look everywhere except straight into his eyes because I felt his gaze burning upon me.

"Hey," he started, his voice soft as a breath, "are you okay?"

"Yes, of course."

It was an instinctive answer, and I looked around for my bike, as if that was the most pressing thing at that moment. I felt strange, in this environment, after what had passed, I wanted to go home and get into my mother's arms and inhale her scent as a warm homecoming. But when I thought of my mother, I remembered her lessons, her wisdom, and how in spite of everything she would disapprove of me leaving so abruptly - after all, I hadn't given my leaflet yet! So I took a deep breath, straightened up my clothes again, and for the first time looked into the face of the master of the house, who was looking at me a bit perplexed.

His face was anything but unattractive. The dark eyes, radiating youth and innocence, met mine. His olive skin was clearly covered with make-up, long curls enveloped his face like an expensive frame, but it didn't diminish, rather added to the effect a man like him could have on young ladies like me. The soft lips, of which the lower seemed to protrude slightly, contrasted sharply with the strong jaws. It was almost overwhelming the impression he made, such an eccentric creature hovering between feminine and masculine and could have been twenty but also sixty, and yet so earthy, when he held out his hand like a friendly neighbour to shake mine.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Michael Jackson."

The penny had dropped. That was his name.

"Hi," embarrassment over came me, "I'm Bethel." I was overwhelmed with the need to apologize.

"Sir, I think I have to explain," I started gently, but he shook his head and beckoned towards the door.

"You're shaking like a damsel. Let's get you inside!"

He escorted me towards the entrance, where an even more magical place awaited me. I saw it, but didn't seem to take it in, because the stranger who accompanied me demanded more attention from me than any of the giant figurines or cherubim paintings could ever have done.

"So," he started when he was leading me through the giant living room filled with ornaments, "what brings you here?"

I'm still surprised at the calmness with which I was able to have my first conversation with him. In every sense of the word, I was overwhelmed by his existence and his proximity to me, but it did not affect my ability to express myself, thank God. Maybe because my thoughts were with my family more then they were with him.

"I have to apologize. I did not know it was you who lived here... I know that may sound crazy!"

There was a despair in my voice. Being considered an obsessed fan who had penetrated his private property, would have been terrible to me.

"I was bringing around these leaflets," and I brought the leaflet as number one evidence on the golden-lined countertop, crumpled and no longer legible. It made us both laugh and broke the little bit of ice that still seemed to lie between us.

"But that's not of much use to you anymore!"

I sighed. He chuckled softly and grabbed the folder with thin, slightly stained fingers (only later did I understand the reason behind the blotchiness).

"Oh!" He exaggerated a bit. "You're from the village?!"

I nodded, suddenly shy. What a stupidity this venture had been, yet it had led to this special meeting. I saw how Michael read the message, his lips silently forming the words. He showed sincere interest, yet I felt somewhat ridiculous that I had undertaken such an extreme bike ride for but a single folder.

"Listen," he said, suddenly abruptly putting down the leaflet again to make it clear that it was not important for now, "is there anyone you need to call? Aren't you shaken up?"

His eyes infiltrated mine, black-lined, although there was no obvious reason behind this camouflage of makeup. Were there any guests he had to make himself pretty for? For a moment I couldn't find any words, began to blush when I could hardly rid myself of looking at him.

"Oh, um. Yeah. Maybe."

Somewhat encouragingly, he nodded, raising his eyebrows for me to continue.

"Aren't you shaken up?" I said, finding some bravery, "we have these earthquakes a couple times a year."

"Oh..." he muttered, stressing the ó. Michael walked up to the kitchen window, tapped on the window to point towards something. I stood next to him, heard his voice close to me when he said: "If there's ever an earthquake again...I'll climb in that tree! It's been standing there for a hundred years!"

It was one of those things that made me realize that Michael wasn't just anybody. The way he thought about things was authentic and original — he seemed like a kid, but he was a master at doing so. For a moment, my mouth fell open and I found it impossible to find the right words.

"Genius..."

The way he laughed warmed my heart and the feeling in my underbelly told me that this eccentric person could become a very important figure in my life. A frightened realization dawned upon my being: that I would soon have to leave here again, back to the commonness of life, without an addition of magic, his magic, and when he reminded me once more that I could place a call, I looked at him a bit perplexed. I nodded, smiled, and he pointed at a phone. As soon as I dialed the number, I heard my mother's terrified voice.

"Mom! It's me. I'm safe, don't worry."

"Oh God! Where are you?"

"I'm at the ranch. Is everyone okay there?" I heard her inhale deeply and her emotionally charged voice.

"Oh, yes, Elijah's a little shook up...Do we need to come get you?"

"No!" My reaction sounded fiercer than I had hoped.

I made up an excuse, but the real reason was that I didn't want to leave here, to drown myself in the eccentricity of this paradise for a while longer.

"No, stay with him. I'll come home myself. I'm okay."

Luckily, my mom still trusted me that much.

"Thank God. Where are you anyways?" She had repeated her question, clearly confused by the natural phenomenon that, although not rare, could still cause a shock.

"At the ranch, as I said. The owner kindly invited me in, so I'm good here. I'll come home as soon as possible...!"

I bit the inside of my cheek after saying the last words, but I knew it was the truth. It would have been unfair to let my parents deal alone with the chaos that such a happening can cause. I put the phone on the horn, uncertainly turned to Michael, who, tranquility itself, was waiting for me, now silently accompanied by a young man, most likely a security guard who came to gauge the situation.

"Everything okay?"

I nodded and dubiously looked over to the bodyguard, who fortunately gave me a friendly nod of his head.

"You know what, I think I should go, check up on my family..."

"Oh no!" The King of Pop moved toward me, "I was going to show you around the ranch."

My heart was bleeding. I could have killed to stay here, but my conscience would never have allowed it.

"My mom's alone with my little brother...I don't want to cause her anymore distress."

He nodded understandably and put a warm hand on my shoulder to escort me out again. Once outside, he kindly offered me a ride home that I accepted. The sooner I got home, the sooner my soul could leave this fantasy behind.

"And besides," I turned my heels toward him and smiled mischievously, "I already know the ranch a little bit."

A delightful smirk appeared on his face - his cheeks had started to blush because of the heat.

"Really, now?" His voice suddenly lowered and my heart skipped a beat. I nodded and pointed east.

"I go to school just a little bit down the road. We hike sometimes, or go horseriding. And right there..." I pointed further north, towards the mountains and Michael followed my finger.

"That's where we have a beautiful view over the entirety of Los Olivos, and from where all the ranches are clearly visible."

"Oh!"

For a moment that felt an eternity, he looked at the mountains, and everything around them, and I looked at him, a small figure but in everything overwhelmingly great.

"You know what," he said, and only then turned his head towards me.

"I'll give you a closer look someday. Come visit me sometime!"

"Oh, I will!"

For a few seconds we stared at each other, half smiling and our eyes squeezed because of that bright summer sun. The smallest beginning of a long, tumultuous series of adventures, that would connect us inseparably. Maybe we already knew then, that our paths would forever be intertwined and our souls were already at the beginning of a strenuous but everlasting dance. Within minutes I was driving off the terrain with the silent bodyguard, my bike crammed in the trunk, leaving behind a dream for which I prayed I would never have to wake up from.

We passed the security man who had let me in in the first place. While he manually opened the gates, slow-paced, which made his colleague impatiently tap his fingers on the steering wheel, he gave me a fat wink and said:

"Damn, girl! You met Michael Jackson while the earth was shaking!"

—

I'm actually really in love with this chapter. I love Bethel and Michael meeting for the first time! What do you guys think will happen?! Please vote and let me know <3

All for L.O.V.E.!