2nd of September, 1987
Brooklyn is 21, Michael is 29

Brooklyn: The house was quiet today. I was alone the past week, no one was around.
Michael left in the morning for his "Bad" tour rehearsals. The album came out only two days ago, and was already at the top of the charts.
Janet was also very busy with her career. Plus, in the last few weeks she told me that she wanted to give Michael and I some space. I had no point in arguing with her about it, because she wouldn't listen.
Chris took Cynthia on a vacation for her upcoming birthday.
"Would you like anything to eat, Mrs. Jackson? You haven't eaten all day." Ronda asked, distracting me from the show I wasn't really watching.
I shook my head, "No, thank you, Ronda."
"If Michael comes back any time soon, tell him I'm taking a bath. And make sure he eats." I told her, turning off the TV. It was almost midnight, he had to come home.
I ran upstairs, and went into our room in hopes to relax a bit. I made my way to the bathroom and filled the bathtub with hot water.
I lit some scented candles around the tub. I took off my clothes, quickly getting in.
I sighed in relief as I lay my head on a couple of towels, like a pillow.
A few minutes passed before I heard noises coming from the bedroom. A knock was soon heard, followed by Michael's soft voice.
"Brooke, are you here?" he asked. I hummed in response.
The door opened, and my husband was standing there with a warm smile on his face.
His curls fell on his sweaty face perfectly. He was wearing only a robe.
"You weren't going to wait for me?" he said, pretending to be hurt.
"Well, you weren't home, and I needed something to relax." I smiled and dunked myself further into the water.
Michael only shook his head slightly. Without hesitation he took off his robe to reveal his naked body.
He slowly stepped into the water, and sat across from me.
His eyes scanned me, like he was trying to read me.
"Why won't you tour with me?" he asked for the millionth time. This was a subject that had come up many times before.
My husband didn't mean for me to only accompany him on tour, he wanted me to be a part of it, as a dancer. Well, specifically for 'The Way You Make Me Feel' part.
We choreographed the song together for the short film that was coming out in a couple of months.
I was supposed to be in it, but I decided not to do it.
I didn't want to be over-exposed at the moment. I wanted to be Michael's wife, to support him.
And I think Tatiana makes a perfect love interest for him.
"I already told you why. Plus, you have Tatiana. She's amazing, you can't give her up." I told him.
"I only took Tatiana because you left me no choice. I want you, baby. Please."
"You can't make that kind of change in such a short notice." I continued arguing.
"I'm the boss, I can do whatever I want. Baby, you have to do this, it's your dance. Come on." he pushed on, "Just give it a little more thought, for me."
I nodded, leaning my head back again.
In this past year (and almost two months) that we've been married we both got the opportunity to learn more about each other, and about ourselves.
So, with that, Michael knew me like the palm of his own hand. He knew I wasn't going to re-think it.
"You're not gonna think about it, right?" my husband said.
I sighed, and opened my eyes.
"Mike, why can't I just be your wife?" I questioned him, really wanting an answer.
"It's not that. I just want you close to me, and I want you to do what you love." he smiled, looking me straight in the eyes.
"But I am doing what I love. I love being your wife, and I love dancing with you. I don't get why I need to do it in front of the entire world."
Michael moved closer to me, lifted my feet onto his lap, and started massaging them.
I smiled at his action, "Don't try to seduce me, you know it won't work."
He only returned an innocent smile.
"You're scared, aren't you?"
"No."
"Then why won't you join me?"
I sighed once again, deciding to ignore him. I wanted to take a bath so I could relax, and Michael wasn't really helping.
"Take a shower, I'll be waiting for you downstairs when you finish." I mumbled, standing up.
I wrapped a towel around my body and quickly got out of the bathroom.

~

Michael: I watched my wife as she closed the door behind her.
I didn't get her. Her biggest passion was dancing. I've seen her dance her entire life, and she doesn't want to perform with me?
Brooklyn is an amazing dancer, and choreographer. A few weeks ago, when I asked her to help me with the concept for 'The Way You Make Me Feel', she didn't even hesitate before saying yes.
I rubbed my eyes before deciding to finally shower.
As the water washed the sweat, it also washed the adrenaline, and made me tired.
I sighed as I felt my tensed muscles soften from the hot water.

~

Brooklyn: Michael was taking too long. So, I decided to head to bed. Doing nothing actually made me tired.
I wished Ronda and some of the staff 'goodnight', and ran upstairs.
I got the bed ready, turned off the lights, and put my head on the soft pillows.
Just when I started falling asleep, the bathroom door opened wide, and Michael appeared with a towel around his waist.
I sighed and sat up.
"Jeez, did I wake you up?" he asked.
I smiled a small smile, shaking my head slightly, "Not really. Want to join me?"
"I could always use some sleep." he mumbled.
My husband disappeared into his closet room, and returned several moments later, dressed in his red pajamas.
He lay next to me. I pulled the blanket on top of both of us, then cuddled to his chest.
"Are you mad at me?" Michael's voice cracked.
"I'm never mad. I was just bit annoyed, that's all. I just... I know you want the best for me, but I won't be able to keep up with everything if I come with you on tour." I whispered.
I can barely keep up with him now, let alone see him. On tour it's just going to get worst.
"Is that what's bothering you? Babe, you will spend every single day with me. Remember, I'm the boss. I get to decide who goes where with me. I promise you, you will be with me way too much, until you'll get enough and decide to leave me."
I smacked his chest. He let out a small chuckle.
"Pretty please."
"On one condition," I said. "You let me be your wife. Which means, I get to wake you up and help you get ready for the day that's ahead of you."
"As long as you do the song with me." Michael replied, playing with my hair.
"Deal."
"Deal."
My husband kissed me, and slowly lifted himself on top of me.
"Mike, we just got cleaned." I told him when he started kissing me all over.
"I don't care, I miss you." he mumbled.
"We'll be tired in rehearsals tomorrow."
Michael stared at me lovingly, before pleading for one round.
"Fine, one round." I smiled.
He grinned and attached our lips together once again.

~

11th of September, 1987
Brooklyn is 21, Michael is 29

Michael: We had just landed in Tokyo. The air was warm, and I could hear my fans screaming from inside the airport.
I smiled reassuringly at Brooklyn as I clutched her hand.
The 'news' about my wife joining the team was all over the media. They always did this. It got to a point where one stupid tabloid had questioned its viewers if Brooke was just using me to get noticed.
That made her doubt going on tour with me, because people usually believe that shit, and if she came with me it will only get worst.
She sighed when we took our seat in the car across from Frank, my manager.
"Just relax, baby," I whispered in her ear. "And watch the fans, they can be a little wild."
My wife giggled.
I turned to Frank, "Will we have time to settle into the room?"
"Sorry, Mike. You lovebirds need to be at soundcheck in less than two hours." he shook his head.
I nodded, getting excited. Tour was always exciting, especially when it started.

~

12th of September, 1987
Brooklyn is 21, Michael is 29

Brooklyn: "I love you, Japan!" Michael screamed into the microphone.
I watched him as he ran across the stage, out of breath.
He was sweating from his head to his toes. The crowd screamed when the stage went black.
Everyone quickly vanished backstage, including myself.
We were all cheering in delight. God, that was amazing.
Michael was right, I loved this.

~

3rd of March, 1988
Brooklyn is 22, Michael is 29

Michael: Brooklyn and I were just finishing our dance routine on stage. She walked off of the stage when the song ended.
The crowd at Madison Square Garden went wild.
The stage went pitch black, and I quickly got ready to sing 'Man in the Mirror'.

~

I went into my dressing room after the show ended.
Brooklyn was in the bathroom, washing her face. Her skin was paler than it was when she performed.
My wife sighed and leaned on the sink. She was still wearing her little black dress.
I noticed that this past month she had gotten more tired very often. She also complained about migraines, and she got skinnier all of a sudden.
I had asked her before if everything was okay, and all she answered was a simple yes.
It won't hurt to ask again, Michael.
"Brooklyn, are you feeling alright?"
She lifted her eyes to meet mine. They were half closed, and Brooke looked like she was about to pass out.
I ran over to her as fast as I could, catching her as she lost her balance.
"Baby, look at me." I told her, opening her now closed eyes.
Go call someone.
Like somebody up there heard me, someone knocked on the door. It was Frank.
He was smiling, but his expression changed when he saw me hold my wife.
"Mike, what the hell happened?!" he asked, shocked.
"I- I don't know. She just fainted in front of me." I mumbled my answer.
"Stay with her," he ordered. "I'm calling the ambulance."
I waited for a few minutes before he returned with a couple of paramedics. They quickly took Brooklyn away, and I followed. I didn't even notice that I was shaking until Frank asked me if I was okay.
I nodded as he handed me a pair of sunglasses.
We walked towards the ambulance with a few of my bodyguards following us.

~

Brooklyn: I heard a beeping noise when I started waking up. I opened my eyes.
I was in a white hospital room, and an IV was attached to my left arm.
I looked round the room and spotted Michael sleeping on an arm chair, covered with a hospital blanket. I couldn't remember anything that happened.
"Mike." I said. Nothing. Why wasn't I surprised? He's not an easy person to wake up.
"Michael, wake up." I said, louder this time.
"A few more minutes." he mumbled. I think he realized who was talking to him, because his eyes shot open.
"You're awake. Oh, God. I was so worried." Michael told me, his eyes suddenly turning into a darker shade of brown.
"What happened?" I asked.
"You've been out for almost an entire day," he murmured to himself, not paying attention to my question. "I'm calling some."
As he made his way to the the door, I noticed that he was still wearing his tour outfit.
"Wait, Michael. I want to know what happened."
My husband sighed, "You fainted after the concert last night. I knew something was up."
He paused for a second, and just stared into nothing.
"What is it?" I snapped him out of it.
"Brooklyn, are you pregnant?" he questioned.
Where the hell did he get that from?
I shook my head violently, "No."
We both knew better than that. We made sure to use protection every time we had sex. A baby was out of our limits right now, with everything that's going on.
"I'm calling someone." he said, again.
I lay my head back on the pillows. It was hurting so much, I felt like my brain could just burst out of it at any second.
Michael was back soon, with a very tall doctor. His hair was was a light shade of grey.
"Mrs. Jackson, I'm Doctor Ronalds. I need to ask you some questions." he smiled.
I nodded.
"When was the last time you got a blood test, Mrs. Jackson?"
I thought for a little. I think it was back in high school, before I tried to get into the volleyball team. We were required to get a blood test.
"Uh, when I was sixteen." I told him.
"Michael told me you've been complaining about headaches lately, right? Tiredness, lost of weight, dizziness at times..." Dr. Ronalds continued.
"Yeah, I think it got worst in the last two weeks."
"Exposed to any stress?"
"No, not really-" I said, but Michael barged into my answer. "We've been touring for the last eight months."
The doctor nodded.
"Well," he said, "By the results we got from your blood test that we took earlier, and what your husband described, you have Anemia. There is a very low count of red blood cells in your system."
This is just great.
I looked at my husband, searching for a reaction. He looked... Terrified.
"What- what does that mean?" he asked.
"It means she will have to start a treatment that includes medicine. And, I recommend on taking a break from performing." Dr. Ronalds answered.
"And what about having children? Will there be a problem with that?"
"I can't give you an exact answer. Each woman is different. I know a lot of women with Anemia who had healthy babies. It usually effects the woman more than it effects the baby."
Michael thanked him, and Dr. Ronalds left the room.
My husband sat on the chair next to my bed, sighing.
He took my hand in his, and kissed it lightly.
"I'm sorry, Mike." I whispered.
"For what? I'm the one should be sorry. I took you on tour. If I didn't, maybe this wouldn't have happened." he said, and hid his face in his hands.
"Don't you dare. My body is just messed up."
He rolled his eyes at that.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" I asked.
"I cancelled the show tonight." he said.
"What about your fans?"
"You're my first priority at the moment."
I smiled at my tired husband and brushed a lock of hair from his beautiful face.

~

5th of March, 1988
Brooklyn is 22, Michael is 29

Brooklyn: It wasn't long before they released me from the hospital.
I was ordered to take iron supplements after every meal. And rest, a lot.
Of course, Michael was very strict with me right now. He didn't let me dance, even though he knew it couldn't last long.
He was now at rehearsals. I was in bed at our hotel room, trying to read a book.
I was bored. Very, very bored. Doing nothing annoyed me, especially when everyone around me was doing something.
Luckily for me, Michael was taking a couple of days off.
The phone on the nightstand next to me rang loudly, so I picked it up.
"Mrs. Jackson, this is the receptionist. Your brother asked me to tell you to call him."
"Thank you."
I dialed Chris's home number as fast as I could.
"Hello?" I heard my brother's voice.
"Hey, Chris." I smiled to myself.
"Brooke! How are you? We saw the news yesterday, you were all over it. What happened, anyway?" he panicked.
"Chris, breathe. I'm fine," I said. "First of all, I fainted two nights ago after the show. That's what Michael told me. I was out for almost a day, too. And... they kind of diagnosed me with something."
"What?" Chris's tone got serious.
"Anemia. I've had he symptoms and everything. I have a low count of red blood cells. Michael's making me take a break from performing." I sighed.
"Good. He should. Where is he?"
"Rehearsing. He took a few days off to take care of me."
"Did the doctors tell you what led to this?" my brother asked.
"Yeah," I answered. "Stress. Over-working, apparently."
"What am I going to do with you? You need to call dad. He's freaking out because we both tried to get a hold of you these last two days." Chris told me.
"I know."
"Call him as soon as I hang up, got it?"
"Okay, Chris. I can do things on my own, you know." I mumbled.
"I know, I know. I love you, sis. " he said.
"I love you, too. Tell Cyn I miss her."
"Will do."
With that Chris ended the call. I was just about to dial my dad's number when Michael walked in.
He smiled with warmth at me.
"How are you feeling?" he questioned.
My husband leaned down to kiss my lips with so much passion it made my heart beat faster.
"Better, now." I answered.
He took off his jacket and threw it on a near by chair.
"Chris called." I said casually.
"And?"
"They're worried sick."
"Of course they are. They got just as scared as I was." he said.
He turned his back to me and stretched his arms over his head; he seemed so tensed up.
I slowly rose from the bed. I made my way over to him, putting both of my hands on his shoulders.
His muscles loosened a bit when I pressed on his soft skin.
"You should be in bed." Michael groaned.
"Then come cuddle with me." I told him.
I lay back in bed. My husband took off his red shirt, and his slacks.
He quickly lay next to me, pulling me close to him. I traced the little white spots he had on his chest with my finger, admiring them like I usually did. He kissed the top of my head.
I felt sleepy. Perfect timing. I yawned, making Michael giggle.
"Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." he whispered.
I closed my eyes, and drifted off to sleep, completely forgetting what I had promised Chris I'd do.