Michael's Point Of View ~

'Bad' Set | Brooklyn, New York

It's a gentle but stern shake of my shoulder that wakes me. The dark eyes of my new manager, Frank DiLeo, is the first thing I see once I flutter my own open. I look towards the nearest window to see the brightness that is outside, and the sound of distant screams of my fans as they stand in complete eagerness to be given the sight they have been waiting for . . me.

"How long was I out? . . "

I ask Frank, rubbing my eyes.

He shrugs his shoulders. "About half an hour . . "

He says as he puffs away on yet another cigar. Well, that does seem to be a record. As the unfortunate truth of it being years since I have been able to fall asleep without any assistance required. So, I'm left extremely impressed with myself. I stretch my arms out to begin with before I move aside the blanket that was once wrapped all around me.

Come to think of it, my skin is something that brought me great stress and more than anything, such sadness. Perhaps all of what I was feeling finally got the better of me and allowed me the rest I have been desperately needing from the past few weeks. I remember it all. Ha! Well, I wasn't sleeping, of course not . . not without any help anyways. I would lay awake while I was always just in my own head with Ariana sound asleep on my chest. I would be thinking, wondering, waiting for something possibly to get leaked to the media about it. I covered my skin daily as I still wasn't confident enough. Who knows, perhaps I'll never be. But I'm so relieved that Ariana isn't in the dark about it anymore. She was shocked - ugh, the look on her face. But she doesn't care, it doesn't change the way she feels about me. She loves me so much, she said. Her voice still beams through my mind constantly as she said to me to show myself and to never hide away again.

God. I miss her.

The night I showed her, we sat in the bath together with her hands actually wanting to touch me. Her lips on my shoulder worked wonders, calming me down. And that night . . we did. We made love all night until we couldn't no more as we feel into a slumber that was brought on by our intense intimate behaviour. But it's been a few weeks since all of that and before I know, it's back to work.

My hands fall onto my face as I'm still waking up. But this time, I walk towards the window to look out properly.

Ah, New York City.

Where my private plane sits is fenced off with extra maximum security to escort me to my living accommodations for the next few weeks. The crowd of fans I mentioned before, I see the many signs they hold - they read how much they love me, how much I mean to them and some even asking to marry me. I think it's sweet. It makes me so happy.

I love my fans.

Arthur stands composed by the door all ready to go. I put my black sun glasses on as the that door is only seconds from being opened. Frank in front of me now as he turns his head over his shoulder to ask "ready, Mike? . . ". My glasses sit on my face and my black ferodo hat on my head. I grab something, just anything . . yep, this scarf will do to place in front of my face. I put my head down before I answer with a somewhat shaky "yeah I'm ready . . ".

The jet door opens and immediately I can hear my fans cheers and screams rise in volume and the always loud snaps of the cameras that are the media - but I know the media's cameras were already on me well and truly before the jet door even opened. I cover my entire face but keeping a careful eye on where I walk. One foot at a time before the decent down the stairs is successful.

With a quick rise of my arm to wave, I'm ushered into the waiting car that sits at the bottom of the staircase. "Thank you . . " I say softly to Arthur as he holds the car door open for me. I lean back and let out a soft sigh as I can finally have the chance to take everything off that in those few minutes of transferring from the jet plane to the car, sealed myself away. Expect my full body of make-up as I, of course, must never remove that to reveal to the world the true extent of my vitiligo. But in time, they will find out.

Show yourself . .

Never hide from me . .

. . your so beautiful.

Ariana's voice echoes in my mind still. She's right. But within myself, it's so hard. However this is the challenge I will have to face . . and sooner rather than later. I can't turn back now as this very short film will indeed be that challenge. The world will see and therefore, they will judge. But of course Ariana says those sweet things about it but for me, I don't see it that way. I don't want to show myself as I wish I could hide away forever.

I'm not beautiful.

No way. My skin condition has made me feel no where near that. The opening of a car door breaks me away from my thoughts along with smoke almost engulfing the entire back seat of the car where we sit. I look at Frank, he looks at me.

"What? . . " Franks asks, casually.

I can't help but giggle. Frank is such a great manager and a great guy too. Ariana is still to meet him however I'm sure she'll love him. The car ride is quite, but indeed concise with Frank telling me all about the location my new short film will take place. It's so different to anything I have ever done before, and as for the song, well the very same goes as it's gone with the sequins and coloured leather jackets that I wore to death back in my 'Thriller' period because this time around I am looking for something more . . daring with a heart of street edge. As I allowed Frank to listen to each pre-recorded song that will feature of this new album, Frank completely agreed and loved the idea of it. It matched, he told me. Even after hearing a song called 'Bad' . . Frank looked right at me with a smirk and said

"Who's Bad?! . . "

Before pointing a finger right at me.

He was completely thrilled and couldn't wait to get started. And now, it's finally here. Within a matter of minutes, we have arrived at the subway where filming will take place. With the entire subway station closed off to the public, no time is to be wasted. And with that, I rush away to get changed - strapping myself into an all black ensemble full of buckles, studs and zippers. I take my curls out from my ponytail, allowing my this time long hair to hang just above my shoulders with one or two strands on my forehead. I have just being letting my hair grow . . and Ariana loves it. My buckles jiggle and appear to echo as I walk through the tunnels of the subway and back towards a waiting Frank and crew with Arthur walking with me every step of the way.

I stand with my hands on my hips.

Karen, my make-up artist flashes me a smile before she gets to work. Applying and if needed, re-applying to maintain my vitiligo. I'm so nervous. I really am. The reactions of many and not far behind that will then come the opinions of thousands. Martin, the director, suddenly comes into my view while Karen still works her magic on me. He claps his hands together once before he speaks to me.

"Welcome to New York, Mike . . "

His eyes widen as he gets a glimpse of my outfit. His arms suddenly cross, nodding his head also. It's this reaction that tells me he is very satisfied. "I know you told me over the phone, but seeing it in person - it's just a completely different experience . . " Martin tells me. I know his mind is racing being the director that he is but it's my vision that he is to follow. Sure, he can change around a few things here and there but it's me who has the final say. Within minutes of Karen applying my make-up and a few tosses of my curls to arrange them properly.

I'm ready.

I stand, telling myself to have the confidence as filming is now only seconds away. I gather the many thoughts and fears in my mind that surround my skin, mentally taking a strong hold of each and every one of them and throwing them away.

"Okay. Let's get this going. Places everyone! . . " Martin's voice elevated dramatically.

Come on, Jackson. You've got this.

I must be confident. I must show myself and I have just got to own it - for it's a brand new era, but I'm still the same Michael. I climb up the ladder and position myself securely and carefully onto the two silver, metal polls that have been already kindly provided by the subway station. Back-up dancers are too, in place and all of us now, just wait for Martin's signal of commence. I can feel my heart pounding within my chest as I do so. Don't get me wrong, I love to be before a camera, especially when I'm dancing and singing. But my vitiligo has spread the way it has that I can't help but be somewhat nervous to be in front of one.

I close my eyes.

Seeing Ariana, of course.

Her smile, her laugh. It's the cutest. For the small amount of time I have to myself - I trail away, and back to her. Back to that night when I told her . . when I showed her. She wasn't disgusted. Not in the slightest. If anything, it brought her even closer to me. As she wanted to be near me, to touch me, to kiss me and allowed me to make love to her. My eyes open back up and focus on Martin and before I know it he throws his hand up . . meaning only one thing.

https://youtu.be/qwJqqwnkxm8

My back-up dancers surround me as I let go of the metal bars that kept me afloat. Falling back onto the safety of the cool, subway floor. It's in slow motion - for I know the camera will begin down low at my feet, before slowly moving up to finish on my face. I stand here confident as I show the world who's bad!

No words are exchanged . . not quite yet, as for now it's just the simple use of eye contact from either side. It's silent with the only sound made is of buckles and breathes. I look calmly to my right before a sudden commotion - a bursted pipe leaves us all startled, causing ours heads to snap left

My eyes looking directly into the camera. I've got this. I hold the stare to hopefully show my confidence in my eyes alone before I must focus onto Wesley. He steps forwards, extending out his arms and asks me a question.

"So what's up? . . " He asks in character.

Playback. Choreography is sharp, fast and always well rehearsed prior in my opinion.

"Your butt is mine . . "

"Gonna tell you right . . "

"Just show your face . . "

"In broad daylight . . "

"I'm telling you . . "

"On how I feel . . "

"Gonna hurt your mind . . "

"Don't shoot to kill . . "

"Shamone! Shamone! . . "

"Lay it on me, alright . . "

"I'm giving you . . "

"On count of three . . "

"To show your stuff or let it be . . "

"I'm telling you . . "

"Just to watch your mouth . . "

"I know your game . . "

"What your about . . "

I glide across the floor. Not wanting to cut as I'm not wanting to stop dancing.

"Well they say the sky's the limit . . "

"And to me that's really true . . "

"But my friend you have seen nothin' . . "

"Just wait til I get through . . "

We pass by a sprinkle of people before jumping on then off a ticketing gate to reach the chorus.

"Because I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"Shamone . . "

"You know I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"You know it . . "

"You know I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"Shamone. You know . . "

"And the whole world has to answer right now . . "

"Just to tell you once again . . "

"Who's Bad? . . "

The camera right before me. But all I feel is confidence.

"The word is out, you're doin' it wrong . . "

"Gone lock you up before too long . . "

"Your lyin' eyes gone tell you right . . "

"So listen up, don't make a fight . . "

"Your talk is cheap, you're not a man . . "

"Your throwin' stones to hide your hands . . "

A flight of stairs. The music running through me as per usual. I don't wish to walk up them calmly, instead, to run up them at least two steps at a time until I reach the top. My arms outstretched on each side of my body. I don't think, I just run.

"When they say the skies the limit . . "

"And to me that's really true . . "

"But my friend you have seen nothin' . . "

"Just wait til I get through . . "

"Because I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"Shamone . . "

"You know I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"You know it . . "

"You know I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"You know it. You know . . "

"I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"You know it . . "

"You know I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"You know it . . "

"You know I'm bad, you know . . "

"Woo! . . "

"You know I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"You know it, you know . . "

"And the whole world has to answer right now . . "

"Just to tell you once again . . "

"Who's bad? . . "

Afterwards, all I do is dance. We all do. To begin with, we drag our feet along on either side of us before our backs face the cameras. Turning back around but not straight away as our feet, this time, sprinkle quickly along the cool floor to get closer and closer to them. To finish, we lift our leg up with the feeling of wanting so badly to fly.

God, I love it.

"Because I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"Shamone . . "

"You know I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"You know it . . "

"You know I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"You know it, you know . . "

"Woo! Woo! Woo! . . "

"You know I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"Shamone . . "

"You know I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"You know it, you know it . . "

"You know. You know. You know . . "

"Come on . . "

"(And the whole world has to answer right now) . . "

"(Just to tell you once again) . . "

"You know I'm smooth, I'm bad . . "

"You know it . . "

"You know I'm bad, I'm bad baby . . "

"You know. You know. You know it . . "

"(And the whole world has to answer right now . . "

"(Just to tell you once again) . . "

"Woo! . . "

"You know I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"You know it . . "

"You know I'm bad, you know . . "

"Woo! . . "

"You know I'm bad, I'm bad . . "

"You know it, you know . . "

"And the whole world has to answer right now . . "

"Just to tell you once again . . "

"Who's Bad? . . "

to be continued.