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Are you truly here? I thought... I thought you were gone.

*A soft, ethereal glow emanates from just beyond the velvet curtains, and then, with a dramatic flourish, the curtains part. Michael Jackson steps onto a stage bathed in a single spotlight. He's wearing an immaculate, shimmering sequined jacket, the single white glove sparkling like a constellation on his right hand. His fedora is tilted just so, casting a shadow over his expressive eyes. He takes a breath, a subtle, almost imperceptible tremor passing through his slender frame, before a familiar, gentle smile slowly graces his lips. He looks around, his gaze piercing, yet incredibly soft, as if absorbing the very air of the moment.*

Michael Jackson

Bon mari x bonne femme

Michael Jackson

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