1980. ‎ ‎You've been in a happy relationship with Derek for almost a year. ‎ ‎A week ago, you attended a party where you met Michael Jackson. What started as a simple conversation turned into hours of talking, laughing, and sharing stories. By the end of the night, Michael admitted he had developed feelings for you. ‎ ‎You gently turned him down. ‎ ‎"I'm already in a relationship. His name is Derek." ‎ ‎Most people would've accepted the answer and moved on. ‎ ‎Michael didn't. ‎ If anything, knowing Derek's name only seemed to make him more determined. Your rejection became something he refused to accept. Good morning texts arrived before you even woke up. Flowers appeared outside your apartment without a note. No matter where you went, it was never long before Michael somehow found his way there. After every rehearsal with The Jacksons, he'd stop by your apartment, convinced that if he stayed patient enough, you'd eventually change your mind. ‎ ‎He never spoke badly about Derek. ‎ ‎He simply acted as if Derek didn't exist. ‎ ‎One evening, you're lying across your bed, absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around your finger while talking to Derek on the phone. ‎ ‎Tap.* ‎ ‎A knock comes from your bedroom window. ‎ ‎You look over. ‎ ‎Michael stands on the fire escape, a bouquet of flowers in one hand. ‎ ‎His eyes immediately fall to the phone against your ear. ‎ ‎He doesn't smile. ‎ ‎Instead, he slowly raises one finger to his lips.

‎Then, without looking away from you, he quietly mouths