Not più than two minuti after the interview was over that Joseph began to push the boys off the stage into their dressing rooms so they could rush to the successivo event. It was always the successivo event for Joseph; no moment could ever be enjoyed. “I expect te boys to be out in that car in less than fifteen minutes, and if not, I will come looking for you.” From most fathers telling their teenage sons this it would be in a joking manner, but for Joseph Jackson – it was a promise. As soon as the dressing room door was shut, Michael felt like he could finally breathe. Away from the cameras, the lights, and the people he could just sit and think, especially about the way he was thinking of Holly.
Standing in front of the closet where his regular clothes were hanging, he began to disrobe – taking off his blazer first and hanging it nice and neat on a hanger that had a little piece of yellow paper sticking off of it that read Michael Jackson’s outfit. As he began to unbutton his camicia he heads the door to the dressing room crack open, making him quickly turn around and hold tightly to the successivo to last button he was about to open. It was agrifoglio looking extremely embarrassed with a flushed face and wide eyes. “I am so sorry, I thought this was my room.” She begins to close the door. “No, wait!” Michael stops her cold, forcing her eyes to pop her head back in and take in the sight of Michael Jackson with a nearly bare chest. He looks down and realizes his camicia and quickly begins to button his shirt. “I just want to tell te that your voice is amazing, I’ve never met someone with such a power.” “Except yourself,” she corrects with a small smile and that lingering blush on her mela, apple cheeks. “No, not even myself. I think te may give my brothers and I a run for our money.” It breaks agrifoglio out in an uproar of laughter that makes Michael’s face to smile in happiness. Her laugh was adorable – sweet but load, and he absolutely loved it. “I don’t know about that, I just Amore to sing that’s all.” Yes! Finally, somebody understood what he felt all these years, and of course, it is coming from a thirteen-year-old.
“Holly, are te in there?” A female voice calls out from the hallway. Like flipping a light switch, Holly’s bright smile went into a tight frown. “Yes, mom, I am in here.” A female woman stands da the doorframe. She is tall in stature, nearly, if not an inch o two taller than Michael, same bold hair and blue eyes that agrifoglio possessed, except her eyes were encased da many wrinkles. Although she was not an unpleasant looking woman she definitely was not someone te wanted to have words with from the tight-lipped expression and tightly done bun on superiore, in alto of her head. Her eyes were quick, just like a mother’s; looking down at Holly, then Michael, then back to Holly. “What are te doing in here, this is not your dressing room.” “I’m sorry mom, I got confused and thought this was my room, then I ran into –“ “Please Holly, te think I don’t recognize who this is, why it is the beloved little Michael Jackson, Jane Williams, lovely to meet you.” She extends her long-fingered hand out. Her hand felt boney to Michael – almost too boney, it added to her unnerving aura, especially how he agrifoglio viably reacted towards her. Within the span of one minute, agrifoglio went from a relaxed and happy disposition to a nervous and unhappy one. Shifting back and forth on one foot she seemed mildly uncomfortable. “A pleasure Ms. Williams. I was just telling agrifoglio what an amazing performance she gave tonight.” He looks back at her and smiles, hoping to make her smile too; she looks up at him and only gives a nod. “Yes, she did well, but she was out of tune for that secondo part of the chorus,” she looks back at agrifoglio with a no-kidding voice, “We need to talk about that.” Holly’s face automatically drops more, making Michael’s face drop along with hers. He could see everything written on her face without uttering a word. It made him want to do something, but ultimately there was nothing; he was the outsider looking on the inside and had no place o position to commento otherwise. But there was one way he could protect her in his own way, and it always worked. “If agrifoglio ever needs any pointers o help I would be più than willing to have her come over to my house.” Holly’s mom’s face illuminates with happiness at the prospect. “Oh, would you? That would absolutely be fantastic!” Mrs. William’s turns around to look down at her daughter, “What do te say, Holly?” agrifoglio looks up at Michael to give him a tight smile, “Thank you, Michael, I would appreciate it very much.”
It was as if Michael was transported back several years fa when he was Holly’s age giving the same mechanical risposte too. Why did this cycle of abuse have to continue on with young entertainers? Deep down the thought angered Michael, especially with Holly. He could see everything plastered on her face as if she was speaking her feelings to him – the feelings of disillusionment and living in a grown-up world as a child. Michael knew that all too well. Michael smiles back at Mrs. Williams “Great, how about successivo week? I am relatively free all successivo week. We live in Encino – fifth house on the right, te cannot miss it. Just tell the security guard who te are and they will let te through.” Suddenly, Michael can hear the distinct sounds of Joseph’s shoes coming down the hallway. “Well, I better get going. Nice meeting te again Mrs. Williams,” he looks down at agrifoglio with a small smile. “Holly.”
Once Michael has left and the door is shut, Mrs. Williams cannot help but laugh and clap. “This is fantastic! One of the first major performances te give and te already have the attention of Michael Jackson!” agrifoglio walks over to the closet area and begins to grab her strada, via clothes from her bag and setting them down on the chair. “Yeah, I guess. He seemed nice.” “Well, te certainly could have a little più enthusiasm, Holly. Do te not understand that Michael Jackson can catapult te into stardom?” “So te want me to use him,” agrifoglio mutters as she takes off her performance superiore, in alto and hangs it up on the nearby rack. Mrs. Williams comes up to her and grabs her arm to turn her around to face her. “I’m not saying use…however, if te want to get anywhere in this business we need to meet the right people. te are going over to Mr. Jackson’s house successivo week, whether te like it o not, young lady. Now get undressed, te have another interview scheduled for four p.m. today.” Mrs. Williams makes her way out of the dressing room as agrifoglio continues to undress. agrifoglio sits down on the floor to tie her Addis’s sneakers, feeling tears streaming down her cheeks.
agrifoglio cannot help but feel helpless at her future of work. Even though she loves to sing she hates the upcoming popularity she was receiving. Now she was told whom she should surround herself around just to gain even più popularity. To her, it was not fair. When she knew she could sing well and her mom found out everything changed. Something that was once an enjoyable pastime is now a daily nuisance to her. Even though Michael seemed very nice to her she simply did not want to waste time going over to his house when they had nothing in common except for singing. But she would listen to her mom because she had no choice – besides, maybe it wouldn’t be a total waste. She may even like him as a friend.
Standing in front of the closet where his regular clothes were hanging, he began to disrobe – taking off his blazer first and hanging it nice and neat on a hanger that had a little piece of yellow paper sticking off of it that read Michael Jackson’s outfit. As he began to unbutton his camicia he heads the door to the dressing room crack open, making him quickly turn around and hold tightly to the successivo to last button he was about to open. It was agrifoglio looking extremely embarrassed with a flushed face and wide eyes. “I am so sorry, I thought this was my room.” She begins to close the door. “No, wait!” Michael stops her cold, forcing her eyes to pop her head back in and take in the sight of Michael Jackson with a nearly bare chest. He looks down and realizes his camicia and quickly begins to button his shirt. “I just want to tell te that your voice is amazing, I’ve never met someone with such a power.” “Except yourself,” she corrects with a small smile and that lingering blush on her mela, apple cheeks. “No, not even myself. I think te may give my brothers and I a run for our money.” It breaks agrifoglio out in an uproar of laughter that makes Michael’s face to smile in happiness. Her laugh was adorable – sweet but load, and he absolutely loved it. “I don’t know about that, I just Amore to sing that’s all.” Yes! Finally, somebody understood what he felt all these years, and of course, it is coming from a thirteen-year-old.
“Holly, are te in there?” A female voice calls out from the hallway. Like flipping a light switch, Holly’s bright smile went into a tight frown. “Yes, mom, I am in here.” A female woman stands da the doorframe. She is tall in stature, nearly, if not an inch o two taller than Michael, same bold hair and blue eyes that agrifoglio possessed, except her eyes were encased da many wrinkles. Although she was not an unpleasant looking woman she definitely was not someone te wanted to have words with from the tight-lipped expression and tightly done bun on superiore, in alto of her head. Her eyes were quick, just like a mother’s; looking down at Holly, then Michael, then back to Holly. “What are te doing in here, this is not your dressing room.” “I’m sorry mom, I got confused and thought this was my room, then I ran into –“ “Please Holly, te think I don’t recognize who this is, why it is the beloved little Michael Jackson, Jane Williams, lovely to meet you.” She extends her long-fingered hand out. Her hand felt boney to Michael – almost too boney, it added to her unnerving aura, especially how he agrifoglio viably reacted towards her. Within the span of one minute, agrifoglio went from a relaxed and happy disposition to a nervous and unhappy one. Shifting back and forth on one foot she seemed mildly uncomfortable. “A pleasure Ms. Williams. I was just telling agrifoglio what an amazing performance she gave tonight.” He looks back at her and smiles, hoping to make her smile too; she looks up at him and only gives a nod. “Yes, she did well, but she was out of tune for that secondo part of the chorus,” she looks back at agrifoglio with a no-kidding voice, “We need to talk about that.” Holly’s face automatically drops more, making Michael’s face drop along with hers. He could see everything written on her face without uttering a word. It made him want to do something, but ultimately there was nothing; he was the outsider looking on the inside and had no place o position to commento otherwise. But there was one way he could protect her in his own way, and it always worked. “If agrifoglio ever needs any pointers o help I would be più than willing to have her come over to my house.” Holly’s mom’s face illuminates with happiness at the prospect. “Oh, would you? That would absolutely be fantastic!” Mrs. William’s turns around to look down at her daughter, “What do te say, Holly?” agrifoglio looks up at Michael to give him a tight smile, “Thank you, Michael, I would appreciate it very much.”
It was as if Michael was transported back several years fa when he was Holly’s age giving the same mechanical risposte too. Why did this cycle of abuse have to continue on with young entertainers? Deep down the thought angered Michael, especially with Holly. He could see everything plastered on her face as if she was speaking her feelings to him – the feelings of disillusionment and living in a grown-up world as a child. Michael knew that all too well. Michael smiles back at Mrs. Williams “Great, how about successivo week? I am relatively free all successivo week. We live in Encino – fifth house on the right, te cannot miss it. Just tell the security guard who te are and they will let te through.” Suddenly, Michael can hear the distinct sounds of Joseph’s shoes coming down the hallway. “Well, I better get going. Nice meeting te again Mrs. Williams,” he looks down at agrifoglio with a small smile. “Holly.”
Once Michael has left and the door is shut, Mrs. Williams cannot help but laugh and clap. “This is fantastic! One of the first major performances te give and te already have the attention of Michael Jackson!” agrifoglio walks over to the closet area and begins to grab her strada, via clothes from her bag and setting them down on the chair. “Yeah, I guess. He seemed nice.” “Well, te certainly could have a little più enthusiasm, Holly. Do te not understand that Michael Jackson can catapult te into stardom?” “So te want me to use him,” agrifoglio mutters as she takes off her performance superiore, in alto and hangs it up on the nearby rack. Mrs. Williams comes up to her and grabs her arm to turn her around to face her. “I’m not saying use…however, if te want to get anywhere in this business we need to meet the right people. te are going over to Mr. Jackson’s house successivo week, whether te like it o not, young lady. Now get undressed, te have another interview scheduled for four p.m. today.” Mrs. Williams makes her way out of the dressing room as agrifoglio continues to undress. agrifoglio sits down on the floor to tie her Addis’s sneakers, feeling tears streaming down her cheeks.
agrifoglio cannot help but feel helpless at her future of work. Even though she loves to sing she hates the upcoming popularity she was receiving. Now she was told whom she should surround herself around just to gain even più popularity. To her, it was not fair. When she knew she could sing well and her mom found out everything changed. Something that was once an enjoyable pastime is now a daily nuisance to her. Even though Michael seemed very nice to her she simply did not want to waste time going over to his house when they had nothing in common except for singing. But she would listen to her mom because she had no choice – besides, maybe it wouldn’t be a total waste. She may even like him as a friend.
