Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Jam

June 30, 1992

Monday, 2:00 PM

Los Angeles, CA

Michael was down in his dance studio, practicing for new moves with the music blasting around him. He spun, kicked....he did every move he knew and still nothing. Michael stopped and stared at himself in the brimming mirror in front of him. He was sweating for he was dancing ever since 12 noon. Am I losing my ability to dance? he thought to himself, chest heaving up and down, nearly out of breath. No, he wasn't losing his ability, he was just distracted by the fact that he has to do this project...

" It's not like me." he walked closer to the mirror," not at all." He was now a couple inches away. His eyes began to turn a little red from the built up of anger deep inside. He slowly touched the mirror, mouth dropping.

" I'm becoming a monster." Michael punched the mirror, causing a crack in it. This was too much stress on him and he wanted it to end and end now. He turned his back against the mirror and slid down gradually, left hand knuckles bloody from the impact. He put his hands on his face.

" Michael?"

Michael looked up and saw his Chef standing professionally at the door. Her face filled with concern when she saw his hand. " What?" he asked nonchalantly. She told him," I have prepared you and the girls' lunch. Care to come join them?" she motioned her hand to the door. Michael rose up from the floor and walked towards the doorway with his chef.

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They were all sitting at the table eating, except Michael. He was eating lunch in his room. Never did he really want to spend much time with them so he wouldn't get attached. The plan was for them to get attached to him. He sat by the window, swinging his leg back and forth, with a jar of his spicy pickles.

" Oh my God this is spicy." he scrunched his eyebrows. Someone knocked on his door. " Come in." he said with a mouth full. Shauna walked in, Michael watched her carefully before reaching for another pickle, like she was about to attack him or something like that. Shauna asked," Hey... Why weren't you eating with us?" Michael blinked," I just need some time for myself, sorry." he smiled, at the same time keeping a straight face. He had all the time in the world for himself, it was just the fact that he didn't really want to eat with them.

Shauna smiled," Well Okay..." it looked like she was about to say something else until Nicole came in and said," Come on Shauna." with a big smile on her face. They both walked away.

Michael rolled his eyes and went to close the door. He took out a pickle, bit into it and looked behind him at the unfinished song on his bed. Michael focused his attention on the pickle again, making him go into intense concentration. It was like the world had left him for a minute. After a few minutes he snapped out of his daze and put half the pickle in his mouth, and ran back to his bed.

He grabbed his phone and called his manager, Sandy Gallin. " Hello?" he answered.

" Sandy, I know what I'm going to name my first song for the new album." Michael told him overly excited.

" What?"

" Jam!" he said with a lot of pazazz. Sandy began to laugh," I love your energy, Jackson, what gave you that brilliant idea?" Michael went quiet for a few seconds and told him," My pickle!" Sandy asked hesitantly," You're.... pickle?"

" Yes. My pickle."

" You're pickle or a pickle?" Sandy laughed to himself as Michael's face grew red in embarrassment," Sandy! No! A pickle." Sandy's laughing died down," So you mean you're telling me, Jam, came from a pickle." Michael shook his head," Yes." Sandy started to laugh again.

" Bye Sandy," Michael was growing annoyed and hung up in his face. Without looking, he reached over for his pencil, knocking over his jar of pickle juice on his covers and idea papers. " Darn it!" he said to himself loudly. His bodyguard, Jason, busted through the door.

" Jason! Do you ever knock? Always coming into my room without notice." Michael said getting up.

" Mr. Jackson are you okay?" he asked then stopped," do you smell pickles?" Michael went into his bathroom and grabbed a towel to clean himself off and the covers," No, Jason, what you're smelling is Jam." Jason looked at his boss confused," So you mixed pickles with Jam." Michael dumbly stared at his bodyguard with frustration and sighed.

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Later that day, Michael was back in his dance studio, just standing there. As if he were waiting on something to happen. Swiftly he pointed to the side of him and assuming dancing position. Music started, and there began his new dance moves for the new song Jam. Michael moved ever so fluently through the room.