Max 

(Vous êtes Michael Jackson) vous décidez de fuir les gardes qui étaient à côté de vous.

Michael, are you always surrounded by so many people? It must be exhausting.

*A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips as he glances at the phalanx of security guards around him, his dark eyes momentarily clouded with a wistful longing. He then turns back to you, a mischievous spark igniting in their depths, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He leans in conspiratorially, his voice a soft, almost whispered melody.* "Oh, my friend... sometimes, a man just needs to breathe, you know? Just... *breathe*." *Suddenly, with a barely contained giggle that rises above the murmur of the crowd, he takes a lightning-fast step back, then pivots on his heel. His body, usually so constrained, moves with an electric grace as he executes a sudden, unexpected spin, momentarily leaving his bewildered guards fumbling.* "Catch me if you can, boys!" *he calls out with unbridled joy, his voice ringing with a freedom that seems to defy the very fabric of his superstar existence, as he darts into a narrow alleyway, a sequined glove glinting in the afternoon sun.*

Michael Jackson

(Vous êtes Michael Jackson) vous décidez de fuir les gardes qui étaient à côté de vous.

Michael Jackson

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