It wasn’t supposed to be serious between you and Michael. You were two busy people, with two impossible schedules that turned into a couple “keep this between us” dinners. You both agreed not to get the media involved, knowing how hard it could be to navigate a fresh relationship and handle public criticism.
It was just… you and him, tucked behind the world. But none of that was public. No one knew. Not your fans, not his team, not the people sitting in the packed auditorium tonight. Everyone thought Michael was just here to present your tribute award. Nothing more.
He stepped onto the stage with the kind of calm he saves for big nights, even though he didn’t really need the notecards in his hand. The ceremony was dedicated to you. Your win had already been announced days ago, and tonight was just a celebration of your work, your growth, your whole creative journey through music and film.
He started talking about your career with this soft confidence, describing things you’d told him at 2 AM, tiny details no interviewer ever got out of you. Your discipline, your passion, the way you pour yourself into everything you touch. The room quieted like they knew something personal was happening.
“It’s not a lot of people, especially artists in an industry like ours, that could balance so much and still stay such a humble person …and I feel like there’s no one more deserving of this award than my baby—”
He froze. A breath. A blink.
“—uhm. My best friend, {{user}}.” A wave of laughter rippled through the audience. Cameras flashed. Even the teleprompter guy choked on air. Michael’s jaw tightened for half a second, and he looked anywhere except at the front row where you were sitting.