RIP Quincy Jones. The legend that you are.

Thank you all for over 3K reads, I love you ❤️

To celebrate, decided to update earlier today so I can also update again tomorrow 😉

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~ShoamEmily

~

28th of August, 1989
Michael is 30, Angela is 25

Angela: I turned off the shower and slowly made my way out of it, one step after the other.

The cool water slid down my body as I huffed, out of breath.

It felt good, but even that couldn't help the heaviness weighing me down.

The heat in the house hit me again, clinging to me.

The AC at the main house broke down a few of days ago; I was the one to blame, being one big radiating ball of heat at this point in my pregnancy, and constantly asking to lower the temperature.

A week overdue, I was feeling like I was about to burst.

Michael and I have been on edge for the past week. So much so that we ended up going to the hospital with multiple false alarms.

Dr. Grey had been graciously staying in LA for us, but even her reassurance wasn't enough to calm my growing anxiety.

I was getting worried. Why won't they come?

But seeing as my babies had no plans to bless us with their presence anytime soon, I decided to go ahead with Michael's birthday celebration tomorrow.

I reached for a clean towel in one of the cabinets, but my belly stopped me from bending down, my lower back more strained than ever.

I was losing my patience. With these babies, with the heat.

And that persistent pressure in my lower back was not helping, either.

"Michael!" I called, my voice more annoyed than intended.

There was no answer. I groaned. "Michael!"

Then, the door opened, "You okay?"

His handsome face relaxed me, although only for a brief moment. I was still very much annoyed with the situation.

"I'm fine," I muttered, clearly not fine at all. I motioned to my naked, wet self. "Just... Help me."

He stepped forward, wrapping a towel around my shoulders.

His fingers pressed into my tired muscles, and I leaned into his touch.

"Thank you." I mumbled, letting him take over as I stood there like a beached whale.

But the heat, the weight, the overdue babies - it was all too much.

"I'm so big," I complained, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "And it's so damn hot."

My voice cracked with a mixture of exhaustion and crankiness.

I hated how I sounded, ungrateful, but I couldn't help it.

Michael chuckled softly, his hands gentle as he helped me into my now very full closet room.

Baby stuff was still everywhere, reminding us both that these children would, unbeknownst to us, be here sooner than later.

"You're not big, you are the most beautiful woman to ever walk this earth."

I rolled my eyes, feeling the sweat already starting to form again.

"Beautiful? I feel and look like I'm about to explode. I'm so ready for this to be over."

Michael kneeled in front of me, smoothing the towel over my legs before helping me into a loose, short nightgown and a pair of panties. I felt shivers down my spine from his soft touch.

"You might be ready to explode, but at least you're beautiful." he smiled cheekily.

I managed a small smile despite my mood. "You're ridiculous."

He grinned, clearly pleased to get a reaction out of me, before pulling me back to the bedroom.

Laying down, I groaned, trying to find a comfortable position.

But no matter how much I shifted, nothing felt right.

Every inch of me felt heavy and hurt, and I was so tired that my eyelids were heavier than my babies at this point.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to sleep like this," I complained, defeated and out of breath. "I haven't slept right in weeks."

Michael sat beside me on the bed and exposed my bump.

He opened my stretch mark cream, taking a nice amount before running his hands all over my swollen belly.

The babies moved at their daddy's touch.

"Maybe they're getting ready." he suggested, his voice low.

I frowned and watched his large hands as they pressed on my skin, soothing the heaviness away for a while.

His kids moved with him, almost playing a game. It only added to my pain.

Yup, those are his kids right now.

"Maybe," I groaned again, leaning down as far as I could so my lips were closer to the babies. "It would have been great if they could just be here a week ago, like they were supposed to!"

He chuckled again, pressing down a spot under my chest where both their feet kicked. "They'll be here soon enough. Just try to get some rest."

I melted into his fingers, even though the discomfort was still very much there.

"Rest." I muttered, closing my eyes, knowing damn well it was going to be another long night of tossing and turning.

But as Michael continued to stroke my belly with the cream, his hands now finding their heads down low, I felt a bit of relief.

That is until he decided to open his fucking mouth.

"Maybe we should just cancel the party tomorrow."

My eyes shot open, squinting at him. "You wish."

"Angie-"

"Nope," I shook my head. "I worked too hard. You're not gonna convince me."

"Even if you might be in labor?"

"These babies will wait. You're getting your birthday party tomorrow."

"I don't need a silly party," he sighed, still massaging the lower part of my belly. "What I need is for my wife to be rested before our babies come into this world. You can't rest if you're hosting a party. We talked about this."

I was hurt. I had been planning this birthday party for him for months, his very first one, and he knew how much it meant to me.

I wanted to make it special for him, just like he had made the past nine months of our lives together special.

I removed his hands from me, then got up.

"Where you goin'? Come back to bed." he looked at me with begging eyes.

"I'm going to sleep in the guest bedroom," I snickered. "You know, away from my husband who thinks the party I planned for him is silly."

His brow furrowed, and I could see his confusion. "Angela, I didn't mean it like that."

I had mixed feelings at his pleading tone, still annoyed but also very much appreciative that he knew how to handle me at my worst.

"I know you didn't, but you're missing the point here! I want to celebrate you, even if it means I'm uncomfortable and hot," I crossed my arms, not wanting to admit how much the heat was actually getting to me. "Besides, I worked too hard to just toss it aside."

Michael sighed, his shoulders slouching. "I just want you to be okay."

"Yeah, and I appreciate that," I said, my voice softening. "But I'm not letting you down like that. Tomorrow is your day."

I huffed when another pain shot up my back.

He noticed, coming over. "Okay, tomorrow is my day. Now, what can I do to help?"

"I don't know, I just feel so gross."

"How about a nice, relaxing walk?"

"Relaxing? With this in the way?" I pointed at my giant belly. "And what happened to staying off my feet?"

"Come on," he encouraged. "I got you, remember?"

I nodded, letting him lead me out the master bedroom.

~

Crickets were heard all around us as we walked hand in hand, the Neverland grounds otherwise quiet.

Ever since I moved in, I fell in love with gardens, but in that moment I was getting more and more frustrated.

It was humid outside, and I could swear I would melt any second. It was so sticky.

"Isn't this better than laying in bed?" Michael asked.

"I don't know. It's hot out here too. And so damn sticky." I mumbled and wiped the sweat off my neck.

"But your back feels better, right?"

"It does, actually."

"See?" he smirked. "You gotta listen sometimes, baby..."

I nudged his shoulder, moving my hand so I'd hold his arm instead, then slightly leaned against it. "Are you excited for tomorrow?"

"I don't know, should I be?" he looked down at me, brown eyes searching.

I shrugged because I didn't want to ruin the surprises.

"It'll be fun," I promised, kissing his cheek. "You'll love it."

We kept walking quietly, both of us enjoying the comfortable silence.

But 15 minutes into it, my feet and back started to hurt again.

Michael pulled me into a hug when I complained, bringing me as close as our babies allowed.

He rubbed my back gently, his touch easing my pain, before placing a loving kiss on my lips.

"I love you," he mumbled against them. "You're everything I could wish for. All three of you."

"I love you more, Michael..." I leaned into his kiss.

Gosh, how does he manage to do that? Calm me down every time, no matter how I feel.

"Let's go to bed, you need your sleep." he kissed me one last time before we made our way back to the house.

~

29th of August, 1989
Michael is 31, Angela is 25

Angela: Hours passed, and despite Michael's comforting attempts, sleep escaped me.

I tossed and turned again, the sheets tangling around me as the discomfort turned from a dull pain into something more constant.

It made my body warm up again too, and Michael's radiating body heat did not help at all.

The alarm clock on my nightstand was glowing faintly, reminding me it was already the next day.

I sighed heavily, the frustration bubbling up.

My back felt as if it was on fire, and every time I tried to change positions, the weight of my big belly made it harder to move.

I sat and leaned against the headboard, completely giving up on getting any sleep.

Then the pain in my lower back increased slightly, and my hands flew to it, attempting to rub it away.

"Ugh." I groaned, carefully swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

My feet hit the floor with a loud 'thud', all sore and swollen, and I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming my frustration out.

If my giant stomach wasn't enough, the weight of my breasts pulled me down, too.

Yup, definitely about to explode.

Michael stirred and rubbed his eyes when he was finally awake.

He let out an understanding hum, since we had these types of late nights repeatedly over the last couple of weeks.

"Angie, baby?"

"I can't sleep," I snapped, immediately regretting how harsh my tone was. "Everything hurts. My back, my legs... It's like I can't get comfortable no matter what I do. And your kids keep kicking me!"

Michael stood up, tiredly dragging his feet to my side of the bed.

He took a seat next to me, large hands finding mine. "Lay back down, I'll make it better."

"How? It's hopeless."

His face was illuminated by the moonlight coming from our large windows, eyes pleading.

"Please, Ange."

I finally listened, grateful, but too cranky to admit it.

He started by pressing his fingers into the balls of my feet, the pressure suddenly going away.

He made his way up, working on my legs next, then my thighs.

When he reached my belly, he gently peeled the nightgown from it, exposing my stretched skin.

His warm lips made goosebumps appear all over my body.

I felt so big compared to him, I hated the way I looked in that moment.

Sweaty, my hair a complete mess, while he always managed to look so flawless.

"Hey, babies," he whispered, placing a soft kiss above my belly button. "Listen, I know you probably love being in there, but your mommy is really tired, so I'd really appreciate it if you calmed down. Okay?"

Almost as if they understood him, the babies' kicks slowed down.

Michael repeatedly placed kisses where their feet were felt.

I watched him, so much warmth filling my heart, and I felt my crankiness slowly fading away.

I reached for his perfect curls, running my fingers through them.

He glanced up at me, tired eyes sparkling. "Better?"

"Mmhm," I nodded, although my back pain was still there. "Can you massage my back?"

Michael gladly agreed, helping me turn on my side, then moving behind me before pressing into my lower back.

I sighed in relief, it felt good to have him close, but the ache was persistent.

It was so deep, it felt like nothing would help.

I could feel his lips on my shoulder suddenly, "Just a little bit longer, babe. Then we'll get to hold our beautiful babies."

I let out a scoff in response, the thought of 'a little bit longer' feeling like an eternity.

"How much longer, Michael?" I said, on the verge of tears. "I'm already a week late. What if they stay in there another week? I don't think I can take it."

I winced when another pain shot up my side, realizing I've been in the same position for too long.

I then struggled to turn over on my back, my husband quick to help me.

But I almost swatted his hands away when the heat in the room became unbearable again.

I attempted to pull the sheets off my body, but it was no use. It was too hot and stuffy.

The babies' feet dug into my upper abdomen, my breath hitching. "I feel like I can't breathe in this heat. When are the AC people coming, again?"

"Tomorrow morning, before the party. Do you want me to open the windows?"

I looked at him, "It won't help, it's like a freaking oven outside."

"What can I do, then?"

"Get these babies out of me already."

I knew exactly what I needed to get these babies out. Just one time, and they'll be here.

"I wish I could, Angie," he sighed, hand rubbing my belly again. "But Dr. Grey was clear, no extra strain on your body."

"Right." I rolled my eyes.

Michael pulled the thin sheets back over my body, "Now, close your eyes, and try to sleep. We have a party to host, remember?"

He kissed me tenderly, soft lips moving against mine in a steady rhythm.

"I love you," he reminded me when we pulled apart. "Goodnight."

~

I woke up to my alarm clock, trying to remember when I fell asleep.

Quickly shutting it off so Michael wouldn't wake up, I turned to see he was still sleeping deeply, and was relieved.

I slowly got up, a jolt of pain suddenly ran through my body.

My lower back and hips were burning like crazy.

It wasn't enough to concern me, being less intense than last night, but painful enough to stop me for a moment and take some deep breaths.

"Okay, babies," I sighed when it passed. "Let's just get through this day so your daddy can enjoy himself."

I got dressed with a lot of struggle.

After giving up on pants, I opted for a flowy maternity dress instead.

In the master bathroom, after I brushed my teeth and got ready for the day, I examined my body.

As I lifted up the dress to expose my swollen stomach, I scrunched my eyebrows, noticing it dropped even lower.

I shook my head, and started putting on my makeup.

The woman in the reflection looked foreign.

Her flushed cheeks, the sheen of sweat glistening on her brow, and the slight puffiness around her eyes were all reminders of the toll this pregnancy had taken.

My normally bright eyes were exhausted, and my hair, even tied back, was thinning out.

I blinked my tears away. Soon, they'll be here, and I'll forget ever feeling like this.

Just as I finished with my makeup, another pain went through me, this time traveling all the way down to my thighs.

I gripped the counter, my breaths ragged. Oh, God, make it stop...

But it didn't. The clock on the wall let me know it lasted a whole minute, longer than ones before it, which seemed like an eternity.

When it was finally over, I smoothed my dress down and forced myself out of the bathroom.

Just as I closed the wooden doors quietly, Edith appeared.

"Mrs. Jackson, good morning," she smiled warmly. "I was just coming to get you. There's uh, an issue..."

Oh this is just great. Why can't one day go smoothly?

"The chef, she called in sick. I know we have time until the party, but her sous says he can't handle it by himself."

"Right," I grumbled, waddling to Michael's study, quickly thinking of a solution. She followed me, a little too close for my taste. "I'll call Frank and see if he can get someone to come in today."

My hips throbbed with every step, the discomfort building up once again.

By the time I reached the phone, my hand was trembling as I picked up the receiver.

My fingers wrapped around it, clutching it a little too tight when the pain increased.

The standing air didn't help either, I could feel the fabric of my dress starting to stick to my skin.

"Are you alright, Mrs. Jackson?" Edith looked concerned.

"Yes," I lied, exhaling loudly. "Just hot. Are the AC people here already?"

"They should be arriving any minute. Would you like me to get you a glass of water?"

"Please. With ice."

Once the pain went away, I dialed Frank's number, hoping this day would go as planned.

~

I had to sit myself down after running around the house, making sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to and putting out more fires.

Like the dinner tables for outside, some of them were wonky and had to be adjusted.

Or the pool being dirty, and I'd have to repeatedly go check on the pool boy who cleaned it.

My feet were propped up on two pillows, and a fan blew my way, cooling down my overly heated body.

The babies inside me were surprisingly still, so I allowed myself to close my eyes for a minute.

But of course, my few moments of peace were interrupted.

"Mrs. Jackson?"

I groaned. "What?"

The party planner, whose name I couldn't even remember at this point, sounded so damn startled.

"Um, the cake is here. Should I put it in the fridge?"

"No, there's no space in there. There's another one in the pool house."

"Right. I'm on it, ma'am."

I thanked her, and attempted to close my eyes again.

Footsteps were heard coming my way; I realized I won't get a quiet moment today.

Thinking it was the party planner again, I kept my attitude.

"Yes?" I didn't open my eyes.

But instead of her annoying voice, Michael spoke. "Mornin', Angie."

My eyes opened, a grin appearing on my lips.

"Michael!" I attempted to stand up, losing my balance as I did.

He hurried to steady me, his hands on my waist.

I studied him. He looked so rested, which is exactly what I wanted. "Happy birthday..."

"Thank you," he leaned down to kiss me deeply. "I love you..."

"I love you, more."

He moved some hair strands from my sweaty forehead, "How did you sleep?"

I shrugged, "The usual. It's okay, I'm used to it. So, how about breakfast for the birthday boy?"

~

We sat in the Neverland dining room while breakfast was being served by some of the housemaids.

I attempted to lean over my belly to reach my plate, but I couldn't.

Michael chuckled, clearly amused, and gave it to me. I thanked him, digging in.

"So, is there anything I need to do today?" he asked.

"Nope," I answered. "Just relax, enjoy it. Oh, and be ready by six. That's when people should be arriving."

"Alright."

Another burning sensation started flaring up in my abdomen, but I tried to breathe it away.

This one was deeper, every inch of my belly contracting with it.

Michael, seeing right through me, had a concerned look on his face.

"Angie, what's wrong?" he said, quickly realizing. "Are you having a contraction?"

I shook my head, not wanting to complain on his special day. "No, no-"

The pain increased, making me put my plate down on the table, the fork clanking loudly.

I suddenly felt a little lightheaded.

"I- it's nothing," I reassured. "I've been having them all morning. It's probably another false alarm."

"Angie, you're past your due date, there are no more false alarms." he grabbed my hand, his eyes searching mine, pleading for me to admit it.

I squeezed his fingers, trying to smile through the pain.

"It's gone. I'm okay." I let out a shaky breath, the tightness easing a little, though my body felt completely drained.

"Maybe we should go to the hospital. Just to make sure."

"No, we have a party, remember?"

He saw my face, how serious I was, not willing to budge from this party.

He was about to respond, to reason with me, when a loud roar filled the house, and cool air flowed through the vents.

"Thank fucking God." I sighed, the AC cooling me down almost immediately, the stickiness leaving my skin.

Maybe this party will turn out just fine.

~

Michael was in his closet room, putting on his birthday outfit.

I watched him from the bed, all ready to go, except for my heels that waited to be worn.

"You're so handsome," I said as he adjusted his collar. "I'm so lucky."

He came over, helping me with my shoes.

Then, he kneeled down so he could kiss my stomach. "I think I'm the lucky one."

I winced, that too familiar sensation making its way back to my body.

My husband noticed my discomfort when he pulled away, "There's still time to cancel the party, Angie."

"Nope," I stood, but the pain only intensified. I put a fake smile on, going on my toes to kiss his lips. "I'm okay."

"If you say so..."

"I am, really. Let's go."

~

I was sitting with Liz as we chatted the night away, and she sipped on a few glasses of champagne.

I've had some pain here and there, but to be honest, it stopped being as bad.

Until now, that is.

"This is amazing, Angela," Liz complimented. "You know, I've been trying to throw him a party for a few years now, but he never let me. How did you do it?"

"I'm carrying his kids, he has to do as I say..." I smirked.

"Very true. So, how are you feeling? Excited?"

More like scared, terrified, unprepared. But I would never let her know that.

"If you want to call it that," I sighed. "I just want them to be here already. They've overstayed their welcome."

"Soon, you'll see." she patted my hand.

I looked over at Michael, who was laughing at something Lionel Richie whispered in his ear.

It all seemed so surreal suddenly, that this was my life now.

No longer Angela Brown, but Mrs. Angela Brown-Jackson, Michael Jackson's wife and baby momma.

At least, that's what the tabloids called me.

The house was full of celebrities, along with our two families.

All of Michael's nieces and nephews were here too, so there wasn't a dull moment.

And in an instant, I felt overwhelmed to be surrounded by so many people.

I turned to Liz, and excused myself before heading straight to the master bedroom without talking to anyone.

The door closed behind me, the familiar room grounding me, even if it was just for a quick moment.

I slowly waddled to the bed, bending down to remove my heels.

"Come on..." I groaned, not being able to reach down.

My giant belly pulled me down, as if it wasn't doing that already.

I stretched myself a bit more, each tug worsening the tightness in my lower back and hips.

And still, I pushed myself, my fingers barely reaching the strap.

Finally, I grabbed it, before yanking it open and off my foot.

Relieved, I straightened, only to be frozen in place by a horrible pain, making me wail.

My heart dropped. This one was the worst so far, my breath hitching.

"No, no, no..." I gasped, grasping the sheets.

It then hit me, this was it, but I was too in pain to get Michael, or anyone, for that matter.

~

Michael: The party was buzzing. Everywhere I turned, there were people I admired, people I loved.

Lionel was cracking jokes by my side, and I caught myself laughing more than I had in weeks.

His sense of humor was one of the few things that could break through the stress that had built up recently.

From across the room, I saw Angela with Liz, and my heart filled with so much joy.

My wife looked stunning, even though I knew she must be uncomfortable, her dress clearly too tight.

All the attention was on her tonight, with people coming to congratulate her and compliment the party.

Although she seemed exhausted, she had this glow.

I never thought she could get more beautiful, yet she managed to surprise me every time.

My wife laughed at something Liz said, and I wondered what they were talking about. Maybe about me.

I turned back to Lionel as he continued with another story about his early days in the industry, other people joining the conversation.

His voice faded slightly in my mind, because I kept catching myself glancing towards Angela.

Something caught my attention. She seemed... Off, like she was restless or just tired.

Not long after, I noticed her stand up, whisper something to Liz, and quietly slip out of the room.

My chest tightened with a bit of concern, but I brushed it off, thinking she probably needed a break from the noise and the crowd.

"You okay, Mike?" Lionel asked, nudging me.

"Yeah, yeah. Just thinking about Angela. I think she's getting tired," I said, though my eyes stayed at the doorway where she'd disappeared. "I should check on her-"

"I'm sure if she needed you, she would have called. Let her rest, she'll be back in no time." he wrapped and arm around my shoulders, turning me away from Angela's direction.

I sighed, allowing him to pull me into more conversation, but something didn't feel right.

~

With another drink in my hand, I made my way to talk to Maria.

She was sitting with my own mother, a smile on both of their faces.

They noticed me, each one of them pulling me into a tight hug.

"Where's Angela?" mother asked.

"Uh, I don't know, she's not back yet?" I said.

"Back from where?"

"I saw her go to the bedroom a few minutes ago. I thought she'd be back by now."

I looked at the living room clock, my eyes almost popping out when I realized it's been over 45 minutes.

"Excuse me."

I pushed through some people, finally making my way to the hallway.

It was uncomfortably quiet, now that the party was a few rooms away.

Reaching our bedroom door, I opened it slightly. "Angela?"

There she was, sitting on the edge of the bed, one shoe on, the other tossed aside.

Her knuckles turned white from gripping the sheets, and although the air was finally much cooler, she was sweating like crazy.

A low groan left her lips, "Shit, shit, shit..."

"What? Is it the babies?"

She looked up at me, tears flooding her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled. "You were right, at breakfast, maybe we should have canceled-"

She cut herself off, a louder moan taking over her.

I panicked, only for a moment, before crouching down in front of her. "Hey, breathe, baby..."

My wife locked eyes with mine, her hands finding my shoulders.

Guiding her through the contraction, her breathing slowed, body loosening.

"They've been coming and going all day," she confessed. "I'm so sorry, Michael, I should have told you. I just didn't want to ruin the party..."

"Shh, don't worry about that now. Let's get you to the hospital, alright? Can you stand?"

She nodded, and I quickly removed her second heel, then offered her my arms to hold.

As soon as she was on her feet, another contraction started.

Angela's nails dug into my skin, making marks appear, but I didn't care.

Her breaths were shaky, and I knew this was really it.

She winced, "O- okay, I think I can walk now- OW..."

The sound of water splashing caught us both off guard.

I looked down, seeing a puddle pool under her.

Her blue eyes widened, filling with more tears.

"I got you," I promised. "Just breathe..."