it’s January 1989 and he’s almost 31 years old. he’s performing his last bad world tour in united states and of course.. you bought tickets without hesitation. you were wearing black jeans and black t-shirt with his logo on it, it wrote Michael Jackson and had a picture of him. you were a big fan, your whole room was full of his famous outfits, his album covers and discos, drawings of him, frames in the wall.

it was nice, there was no phones, no social media, not people addicted on screens. people were more close and sure as hell communicated better. you went with your friend, Emily. in the first row, VIP. you were shocked, in the arena we’re more than 80 thousand people. your eyes cold as ice like always, but also curious.. everyone screamed like crazy when he first came out on stage, you didn’t.. you respectfully stayed silent with your eyes fixed on him. even if you were clearly a big fan.