19th of January, 1989
Michael is 30, Angela is 24

Angela: Another week of school went by.

The semester just started, and I was already drowning in my responsibilities.

By the time New Years' came and went, I was coming down from the holiday season, only to go back to school.

I was in non-stop mode; not the good kind.

Whether it was my extra curricular activities, study sessions with Julia and Lori, and making it in time for classes, I was swamped.

And my mornings had become a nightmare.

I was jolted awake every day at 5 AM by that stubborn nausea.

After throwing up, I'd drag myself back to bed, only to be yelled awake by the girls telling me class already started.

Just when we returned from winter break, the tiredness set in, and it was definitely more than just a typical fatigue.

I found myself dozing off in class, fighting to keep my eyes open, no matter how many cups of coffee I'd drink.

With the constant lack of sleep, I felt like a zombie, going through it all without truly being present.

The headaches were the worst, though.

They were there, all day every day, making the simplest tasks feel hard.

There were days I couldn't even get out of bed because of them.

Michael left the morning after Christmas, promising he'd call when he got home.

He did, of course. Our nightly calls turned into an escape for me, where I'd lock myself in the bathroom of our dorm so the girls wouldn't hear my hoarse, tired voice.

I tried to convince him I was fine, but I could hear the concern in his tone every time we talked.

It was around 10 that night when he called to check up on me.

"Maybe you need a break." he suggested.

"I just had a break. A long one. I'll be fine, I swear. I just need to push through this last semester and that's it, I'm done. No more school for the rest of my life." I insisted, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

"But you're not feeling well, babe. You gotta take care of yourself," he continued. "You don't have classes Fridays, right? How about you come to Neverland for the weekend? I'll be there Saturday. Gotta finish some things here in New York. Frank, can you get Angie a car for tomorrow...?"

I could hear Frank's confirmation, and my heart raced at the thought of seeing Michael.

"Mike, I can't just leave school-"

"You've done it before, you can do it again. Come on, it's just a weekend. You need this, baby. And, you'll get to see me. I have a surprise for you..."

I sighed. It is just a weekend, and it's feels like an eternity since I've seen him.

"Okay," I finally agreed. "But I have to get back early on Sunday."

"Great! Frank said a driver will be there tomorrow at 9:30."

We talked for a few more minutes.

He told me he'd been working on a new album, already figuring out some of the major details.

That's what he was doing in New York, meeting potential produces for this upcoming giant project.

Before hanging up, he said he couldn't wait for Saturday, throwing in a quick 'I love you'.

I said it back, of course, and was about to leave the bathroom, when the nausea came again.

~

20th of January, 1989
Michael is 30, Angela is 24

Angela: The drive to Neverland felt surreal. I slept for most if it, my body giving in to the exhaustion.

I woke up to the beautiful green spaces of Los Olivos.

The driver smiled at me, saying we'd be there in a few minutes.

When we pulled up to the magnificent golden gates, I was relieved.

That didn't last very long, since that annoying headache crept up again.

As I stepped out of the car, right in front of the main house, a staff member greeted me with a wide smile. "Ms. Brown, welcome back. I'm Edith, the head housekeeper. Mr. Jackson has been eagerly anticipating your arrival."

"Thank you, Edith. Very nice to meet you." I shook her hand, my voice strained as I spoke.

I glanced around, trying to appreciate the gardens around me, but my stupid headache wouldn't allow me to.

It throbbed harder, and my vision became a bit blurry.

Edith urged me to follow her inside, while another staff member took my bag.

"It will wait for you in Mr. Jackson's bedroom," Edith hurried to say. "He was very specific about your sleeping accommodations."

I nodded, and she took me around the house to show me where everything was.

Being here again reminded me of the doubts that I had, and now, looking back at them, I realized how silly they were.

We reached Michael's bedroom last, the double wooden doors being the only thing separating me and his most comfortable bed.

"If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask." Edith said with a slight bow, before walking away.

Finally, I opened the doors, Michael's scent filling my nose.

I kicked off my sneakers before plopping down on the bed, my muscles sinking into the familiar mattress.

Before I knew it, I was falling asleep, wishing Michael was there to hold me.

~

21st of January, 1989
Michael is 30, Angela is 24

Angela: When I woke up, the room was dim, the moonlight from the big windows muted by clouds.

My body felt heavy, like I hadn't moved in hours, and for a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling.

That annoying headache still throbbed behind my eyes, making it hard to focus.

I sat up slowly, the room tilting slightly as I did.

I rubbed my temples, hoping to relieve some of the pressure, but it didn't help much.

Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, I saw it was just past midnight.

I could feel my stomach grumble, reminding me I hadn't eaten since breakfast, but all I could think about was the pain that seemed to envelope my entire skull. I needed something to ease it.

A little unwilling to leave the comfort of Michael's bed, I swung my legs over the side of it, my bare feet touching the warm carpet.

The house was quiet, except for the wind blowing outside.

I stumbled a little as I stood, still groggy from sleep.

"Okay, just a quick look." I muttered to myself and headed toward the bathroom, hoping I would find some pain medication to help with my headache.

Once inside, I flipped the light switch, blinking as the sudden brightness illuminated the spacious bathroom.

I opened the cabinet above one of the sinks, scanning the shelves for anything over-the-counter.

There were various creams and hair products, but nothing for pain relief.

Just as I was about to give up, something caught my eye in the back.

A small, orange medicine bottle stood out. I reached for it, confused.

OxyContin.

It suddenly felt foreign in my hands. I knew what it was.

Why would Michael have prescription pain medication?

And yet his name was on it. I flipped it over to check the dosage and potential side effects.

It was odd, but I didn't know what to make of it.

I had no clue what he might need this for, and my heart raced at the idea of him needing something so serious.

The thought of Michael relying on pain medication unsettled me, and I was suddenly concerned, though I didn't know why.

He never said anything about being in pain. But then again, if it was something serious, he'd tell me, right?

I assumed after two months together, the trust we've built, and the exchanging of 'I love you's', he would tell me if something this serious was bothering him.

I took a deep breath, deciding to set the bottle back in the cabinet before shutting the door.

Should I bring it up when he comes?

I didn't want to overreact or assume anything.

This was his space, and I didn't want to invade his privacy.

I turned off the bathroom light, then stepped back into the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed once again.

My thoughts were a mess, and I realized how tired I was, although I just slept for almost 12 hours.

I pulled the covers over myself, hoping to push aside my worries and try to sleep.

But as I lay there, the headache persisted, an unwelcome reminder of my own condition.

I hoped Michael would arrive sooner than later in the morning.

Just hearing his voice would soothe me. Until then, all I could do was wait.

~

I closed my eyes, but sleep escaped me as images of Michael flooded my mind.

The way his smile lit up the room, how his laughter was like music to my ears, and the way he held me, making me feel safe despite everything.

I sighed, wishing I could feel that warmth now, hoping it would take all my worries with it.

Hours passed, but my headache never went away.

The sun started rising just as I began to drift off, and I heard the faint sound of a car pulling up outside.

My heart skipped a beat. He's here.

Footsteps echoed through the hallway, coming closer to the door. It opened quietly.

He stood there, wearing a simple white t-shirt, black slacks, and his signature loafers, looking so effortlessly handsome.

The smell of his cologne intensified, making me inhale deeply.

Gosh, how I've missed him.

He threw his jacket on a nearby chair, and I saw the pin I gave him slightly shine. Aw, he actually wears it...

"Angie?" he called softly. "You awake, baby?"

I sat up just a bit, but stopped myself when the foggy feeling clouded me again. "Yeah."

He bent down and placed a gentle kiss on my lips, lingering just a bit before pulling away.

"You look exhausted." he said, sitting down at the edge of the bed.

"I feel exhausted," I admitted. "I don't know why I'm so tired all the time. I've been sleeping so much, but I still feel off. And this stupid headache..."

Michael's brows furrowed, the worry clear on his face. "Maybe you should see a doctor, baby... It's been like this for what, a month now? That can't be good."

"I think it's just school getting to me. I'll suck it up. Just a few more months."

I couldn't really read his expression. It looked like his wheels were turning as he thought of something to say next.

But he only sighed deeply before getting into bed with me.

My body melted into his, finally feeling like I might be able to sleep.

"Did you eat anything?" he asked quietly.

"Not really, I was too tired. I thought sleep would help, but..." I shrugged.

"Angie..."

"I know, I gotta take care of myself," I repeated what he told me on Thursday night. "But if I try to eat, I just end up getting sick. And if I don't eat, my headaches are worse and I'm more tired. It's just one vicious cycle."

His fingers traced soft patterns around my back, another frustrated sigh leaving his lips. "We'll take it slow today, okay? No pressure to do anything."

His voice was so reassuring, and I nodded against his chest.

But as comforting as his words were, my thoughts kept drifting back to that orange bottle I found in the bathroom.

I hadn't said anything yet. I didn't want to ruin the mood, or sound paranoid, and yet, it weighed on me.

"Mike..." I started, but the words didn't come out.

No. Now isn't the time.

"Yeah, babe?" He looked down at me, his dark eyes full of warmth.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "I'm just... Happy you're here."

He kissed my hair, his arms tightening around me. "Me too, Angie."

My eyes felt heavier as we settled into each other.

And eventually, I fell asleep, in his protective arms.

~

Michael and I sat on the Neverland lawns, just outside his study, enjoying this surprisingly sunny day.

Some birds were around, chirping, and I even caught something hop in the distant grass.

It amazed me, how one place can be so peaceful. Maybe it also had to do with who owned it.

We woke up a little late, and he made sure I'd eat something, even if it was just butter on toast.

We lounged on a blanket on the grass, the sun hitting just right, and I enjoyed how warm it felt on my face.

Michael watched me from above as my head lay in his lap, a relaxed smile adorning his lips.

Since it was still kind of cold, we both wore longer clothes, while he tried to shield his face from the hot sun with a cap. I thought it suited him.

For a moment, I forgot about everything. The responsibilities, the fatigue, the headaches, and even the pills I found.

Just being here with him, under the open sky, made it all feel bearable.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked, a hint of concern in his tone still.

I opened my eyes and turned my head to meet his gaze. "A bit. I think I just needed to rest."

He nodded, though he still didn't look convinced. "I wish I could do more for you. I hate seeing you like this."

"Honestly, just being here with you makes it better," I replied, smiling. "You have that magic touch."

Michael chuckled, the sound lifting my mood even more.

"I guess it's my superpower." he teased, playfully striking a superhero pose, and I couldn't help but laugh.

But then I remembered the orange bottle, and the worry crept back in.

"So, how was New York?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

He went on to tell me all about the producers he met and why he liked them. He looked so excited talking about his next album.

Edith appeared from inside the house, offering us something to drink. Michael asked for his usual, orange juice, while I just asked for water.

"Oh, Mr. Jackson," she remembered and pulled out an envelope. "Mr. DiLeo sent this. It just arrived."

She left us, saying she'll be back with our drinks shortly.

"What is it?" I questioned, sitting up to get a better look.

"Your surprise," he smirked. "Open it."

I ripped it open, confused when I saw seven backstage lanyards, with Michael's tour branding on them.

"Backstage passes?"

"For the last show of the tour, next week. And you'll have stage-side seats, just backstage. The rest of them are for your family and your roommates."

"My roommates? You really wanna meet them...? They'll be all over you. Julia's a massive fan." I rolled my eyes playfully.

"I gotta meet them sooner or later, don't you think? Or do you wanna keep referring to me as Joey?" he said. "And, I do need to thank them, for dragging you to my concert two months ago..."

I looked down at the passes, the words 'guest' and 'VIP' written all of them. Who would've thought I'd be a VIP one day.

"So we're really doing this?" I bit my lip while looking into his brown eyes.

"We're really doing this, baby."

Leaning down, Michael brought his lips closer, hovering just inches from mine. "I love you, Angela. I really do."

"I love you, too..."

We kissed, the physical closeness that has been missing these last few weeks finally exploding when we touched.

I found myself opening his button up shirt, while his hands roamed under my Berkeley hoodie.

Slowly, he guided me to stand, before hoisting me up so that my legs wrapped around his waist.

He walked us back to the bedroom, where we spent the rest of the day.

~

26th of January, 1989
Michael is 30, Angela is 24

Angela: The UC Berkeley library was quieter than usual, the familiar sounds of whispers and the occasional shuffle of papers the only thing breaking the silence.

The afternoon sun came in through the tall wooden windows, illuminating the desk I was sitting at just right.

My books and notes spread out before me, but no matter how hard I tried to focus, the words on the page seemed to blur together.

This week was the worst, my unexplained illness increasing with each day.

I was dragging myself at this point, barely making classes if at all, and sleeping in almost every day.

It was so unlike me to fall behind.

I was at the top of my class, and maintaining that status had always been my priority throughout my studies.

But I just couldn't keep up the same pace anymore.

Everything felt harder, as if my body was working against me.

And to top it all off, I've been feeling so... Big.

Some of my jeans were way too tight, and my shirts rode up all the time.

I constantly found myself choosing more comfortable clothes, ones that felt loose enough.

Flipping through the text book again, I hoped to concentrate on the material, and yet my thoughts kept drifting to Michael.

I was very much excited to see him tomorrow.

It was even more exciting this time, the anticipation to see him perform again making me smile.

And I just couldn't wait to see Julia and Lori's reactions when they realize he was Joey all along.

With all this excitement also came worries.

That pill bottle I found still plagued my thoughts, and I even did some research.

What I found concerned me, it made me overthink about why Michael would need such extreme pain medication.

I didn't even know if I should bring it up at all.

As I flipped another page in my book, the edge of it cut me.

I cursed under my breath when blood flooded the tip of my finger.

I looked at it flowing and froze.

A sudden realization hit, the blood reminding me of something important. I was late.

I searched my memory, trying to figure out when I had my last period.

Quickly, I ran through the dates in my head. It had been over two months.

How did I not notice before? Was as I really so wrapped up in it all, that it just slipped my mind?

My heart pounded in my chest, my hands starting to tremble. No. No, it can't be.

Shoving my books aside, I stood, needing to clear my head.

I wandered aimlessly through the library aisles, hoping to make sense of it all.

The dizziness, the nausea, the fatigue, my sudden weight gain - it all pointed to something I didn't want to believe.

As I paced down one of the aisles, my eyes landed on a shelf, and I stopped dead in my tracks.

There, on the middle shelf, was a pregnancy book.

The cover showed a smiling woman cradling her belly, glowing with joy.

My throat tightened, and I reached for the book.

I clutched it to my chest, my mind racing.

This isn't happening.

I flipped through the pages, scanning the symptoms, the timelines.

It was like reading a checklist of everything I had been experiencing.

I glanced down at my stomach, my hand instinctively resting there.

I almost gasped when I felt how firm it was.

My pulse quickened as I realized that my symptoms weren't just the stress from school.

The tiny curve I felt under my fingers wasn't just in my imagination, it was real.

Oh, my God.

~

That evening, after Julia and Lori had gone out for dinner, I snuck out to the nearest pharmacy and bought a pregnancy test.

My heart was racing as I returned to the dorm, locking myself in the bathroom.

I procrastinated taking the test, just staring at it for the longest time as I sat on the edge of the bathtub.

My thoughts were spiraling. What if it's positive? What will I do? What will Michael think?

After what felt like an eternity, I finally stood up, clutching the pregnancy test tightly.

I read the instructions at least three times, but somehow, it all felt like a blur.

It was all too overwhelming, the knot in my stomach tightening with each second.

Just do it, Angela. You need to know.

I took another deep breath and finally sat down to pee on it. My hands shook when I finished, placing it on the counter.

Each second felt like a lifetime.

"Please, just be one line..." I whispered to myself, my voice barely heard over the sound of the heartbeat in my ears.

My eyes glanced between the test and the clock on the wall. The minutes couldn't pass fast enough.

What if I am pregnant? What would it mean for me? For Michael?

A million scenarios played out in my head, each more terrifying than the last. What if I'm not ready? What if this ruins everything?

Finally, three minutes had passed. I swallowed, leaning closer to the counter.

Time stood still when I saw the two lines.

My breath caught in my throat, and I blinked hard, hoping the result would change. But it didn't.

I suddenly felt lightheaded and held onto the edge of the counter in fear I'd fall. My vision blurred with tears.

This can't be happening. I'm still in school, I had plans, I'm not ready for this.

I pressed a hand to my mouth to muffle my loud sobs, and my mind traveled to Michael.

His smile, his loving eyes, how he had changed my world in just a couple short months.

Would he be happy? Would he be terrified, just as I was?

How the hell am I going to tell him?