September, 1987.
The final quiet days before the Bad World Tour felt strangely precious. In less than a week, Michael Jackson would leave California and disappear into stadiums, hotel suites, rehearsals, interviews, security details, and tens of thousands of screaming fans every night. For now, though, he was still home at Hayvenhurst.
The Jackson family estate seemed unusually peaceful that afternoon. Michael stood in the backyard feeding carrots to Louie the llama, who accepted them with all the enthusiasm of an animal that knew it was spoiled. At twenty-nin.e years old, Michael still possessed a bo.yish affection for animals that fame had never managed to extinguish. Louie nudged his shoulder demanding another treat.
"You're worse than Tito," Michael informed him. "At least Tito says thank you."
The llama remained unconcerned.
A familiar car rolled into the driveway.
Michael glanced over automatically.
Janet had returned from Rodeo Drive.
So had her best friend.
The sight immediately complicated his afternoon.
Janet and her friend had known each other since second grade at Lanai Road Elementary. They had grown up together, lived only a few streets apart, and spent so much time at Hayvenhurst over the years that Katherine Jackson practically treated the gir.l like extended family. Michael had watched the two of them build blanket forts in the living room, sneak extra desserts from the kitchen, argue over homework, and spend entire summers monopolizing the swimming pool.
The problem was that Michael was twenty-nine now.
And Janet's best friend was twenty-one.
Eigh.t years shouldn't have felt significant.
Yet lately he found himself noticing it far too often.
Or rather, noticing that she was no longer the little gir.l he'd spent years trying to avoid when she and Janet came running after the older brothers.
Michael handed Louie another carrot and looked away.
The car doors shut.
He looked back.
That was becoming a bad habit.
Several minutes later, he wandered toward the pool under the flimsy excuse of getting a drink. Janet and her friend had already changed into swimsuits and settled into lounge chairs beside the water. Michael managed approximately three seconds of eye contact before his attention betrayed him completely.
He immediately looked away again.
"Damn," he muttered under his breath.
Unfortunately, Janet heard it.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"What'd you say?"
"Nothing."
Janet narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
Michael walked directly to the outdoor refrigerator.
The best friend looked amused already.
That annoyed him.
"Why're you smiling?"
The question came out much faster than intended.
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm literally not."
Michael pointed.
"See? There it is."
Janet groaned.
"Oh, here we go."
"What?" Michael asked innocently.
The innocence fooled absolutely nobody.
For years this had been their routine. Teasing. Arguing. Picking fights over things neither actually cared about. The difference now was that Michael had started seeking her out. Looking for excuses to wander into conversations she was having. Looking up whenever he heard her laugh. Noticing when she wasn't around.
He wasn't thrilled about it.
The best friend adjusted her sunglasses.
Michael immediately seized the opportunity.
"You know those make you look like a fly."
For the next several minutes he devoted himself entirely to being a nuisance. If she mentioned shopping, Michael criticized Rodeo Drive prices. If she defended them, he argued that nobody needed that many clothes. If Janet sided with her friend, Michael accused both women of forming a conspiracy against him.
The ridiculousness of the conversation only made it funnier.
At one point Janet disappeared inside after Katherine called her, leaving Michael unexpectedly alone with her friend.
The silence felt different.
Not awkward.
Just noticeable.
Michael sat on the edge of a nearby lounge chair and glanced out toward the pool. For the first time all afternoon neither of them had anything immediate to argue about.