One

dancingthedream

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My fic is a bit too long to post in forum style so I'm dropping the link instead.

Book 1: https://www.wattpad.com/story/132190049-one-a-michael-jackson-fan-fiction
"It's an adventure, it's a great adventure. There's nothing to be nervous about. They just want wonderful experiences. We want to take them places that they've never been before. We want to show them talent like they've never seen before. We're putting love back into the world. To remind the world that love is important... love is important. We love each other... We're all ONE."

Quinn is a young dreamer who manages to land a job working for Michael Jackson's Bad World Tour. Along the way she goes on a multitude of adventures and befriends the king of pop himself. Through him she learns to challenge limitations and see the world in a new way. Join her on this epic journey.

Book 2: https://www.wattpad.com/story/153886610-one-the-adventure-continues-a-michael-jackson-fan
Four years after the Bad World Tour, Quinn finds herself back on the road with Michael once more. The Dangerous Tour is set into motion with lessons and adventures on every corner. Together they push through trials and tribulations never experienced before and witness wonders never seen before. Join her as she continues the adventure.
 
Chapter One (Preview)

With the clatter of keys, I slung the strap of my bag over my shoulder and made my way down to the front of the stage. The hour was late and exhaustion tugged at my eyes. Most of the crew had headed to the hotel by now so the arena was quiet, the only exception was a small group of individuals who sat pondering over the lighting console, fixing some error or creating something new. Nothing could go flawed here. Perfection was the demand. I stood a safe distance away so that I wasn't intruding on the process but stopped to watch them from afar, wondering what choices were being made and how they would make it happen. As they played around on the board, different things would happen on stage, awarding reactions of approval and the occasional frustrated sigh that would follow a failure.
The soft thwack of a cherry that now rolled on the concrete floor after striking my arm drew my attention back to the console and a head full of curls poked above the others with a cheesy grin on his lips. I hesitated a moment, trapped in a brief mix of shock and confusion. I had been working with the crew of Michael's tour for a little under a year now but I had only seen him in passing. Until now he had never addressed me one on one.
Another cherry broke me from my trance, this time striking me on the chest. "Are you busy?" He asked in a gentle voice, so different than the power his voice held on stage. I opened my mouth to respond but my tongue tied with the contrasting words that tried to come out. On one side, I wanted to say no and continue to watch them at work. On the other side, if I didn't leave soon, I'd miss the next bus back to the hotel. Before I had the chance to conjure a response, Michael decided for me, motioning me to them. "Come on, sit down." he said, a certain giddiness in his voice. "Watch!" The man in the center continued to play with the buttons, programming some lighting sequence into the board. "The greatest education in the world is watching the masters at work." Michael whispered, and as if it were a period to finish off the sentence, the programer pressed one final command and the lights danced across the stage. "Like magic." He smiled.
"Alright everyone, good show. My team, I'll see you in the morning for a quick tech run, Michael, thank you for joining us. Let's get this shut down and get some rest, agreed?" came the voice of the one who ran the console. There were nods of affirmation and casual small talk amongst the rest of the crew that remained and people made their separate ways. On my way out, I crouched down to pick up the two cherries Michael had thrown a moment before.
"I hope you don't intend to eat those." He giggled behind me.
"Not at all!" I quickly defended, twisting to face him. "Just figured I should start building up an arsenal lest any more cherries come flying my way." Michaels lip curled into a wicked grin at the challenge. "... Unless, of course, you want to eat them." I offered, holding them out by the stems. His face contorted in disgust and he promptly denied.
An entourage of black cars waited out back for Michael and his team. Most of them already waited inside. He climbed into the mother car and the door was closed behind him, taking the breath I involuntarily held from my lungs. With a smile I turned to find my way to the busses, dropping the cherries into a nearby bush for some animal to find later.
As luck would have it, the shuttle arrived soon after I did and before long I was back in the comforts of my room. The fellow stagehand I had the pleasure of rooming with lay fast asleep in her bed. In time, I gladly succumbed to my exhaustion, not waking until the following morning. Teagan's ragged and muffled complaints drew me from the world of my dreams. "Turn it off." came her voice through the thin shroud that separates sleep with the waking. My eyes blinked open laboriously and soon the shrieking of the alarm conquered all other noise. Instinctively, my arm flailed out, smacking the snooze button with my palm until either one of us were cognitive enough to actually turn it off. Teagan proved to be the first in motion as she rolled to the edge of her bed and flipped on the light, which in it's dim haze still seemed blinding to our freshly woken eyes.
In time, we managed to get ourselves out the door and to the arena in a rushed and disorderly fashion; the typical morning routine. I grabbed the first rung of the ladder that took me to my place at the spotlight and turned to wish Teagan luck in the madness that always commenced during a show. My voice froze before it came out, however, as my eyes caught a glimpse of Michael heading our way. "Good morning, Cherries!" he exclaimed. Teagan whirled to face him, quickly stepping aside so as not to get in his way.
"Good morning, Mr. Jackson." I replied with a friendly nod, my lip twisted slightly upward at the newly acquired nickname.
"What's it like up there? I imagine it's quite a different view than any one of us get."
Looking up at the catwalk where I spent my nights, I responded. "Maybe sometime you can come up and I'll give you the tour. It's really quite astonishing to look at everything from so high."
"Honestly? You'd let me up there?" His face was one of utter shock.
"If you feel safe going up then there's nothing stopping you. But it'll have to be another day. We've gotta get ready for the show." He nodded, suddenly excited for this new adventure.
It wasn't until after the show that I saw him again. I had unlatched myself from the harness that kept me safe up in the lighting grid and made my way down to the floor where my gaze caught his. Michael turned his course to my direction, draping a small white towel over his shoulders, carefully dabbing away the beads of sweat that dripped from his curls.
With a broad smile, he spoke. "Do you hear them out there?" he questioned, nodding his head towards the sound of the massive crowd that still rumbled in the house. "Sometimes I wish I could just stop time. I'd do it right now, walk through the crowd and take a moment to see all the art in the room. See, each and every one of us are our own individual works of art; different stories, different personalities, such wondrous differences that make us unique; and we must always take a moment to see it in everyone, including ourselves." he advised, helping me off the last bit of my ladder. I nodded in a feeble attempt to show I understood.
With that, he made to leave and Teagan took his place, standing with me at the base of my ladder. Her brow was raised in curiosity and I could almost see the million questions that ran behind her eyes. No words came out so I grabbed her by the sleeve and pulled her towards the exit.
Teagan found her voice as the shuttle bus pulled into the drive and the door swung open with a vicious squeak. Though, the only thing she could muster was, "Cherries?"
A short burst of laughter erupted from my lips and I simply shook my head in answer. "I ran into him last night after hours. He was with a few of the lighting technicians when I passed by to leave. He saw me watching them so he threw a cherry at me to get me to join them." I explained.
"And you have yet to introduce me because...?" she teased "Come on Quinn, I thought we were in this together. You make a connection, you share the connection. That's how this works."
"Fine." I smiled. "I'll introduce you tomorrow."
"You'd better." Teagan finished, flopping down into one of the bus seats beside me.
Upon arriving back at the hotel, we began the chaotic process of packing up our lives to be transported to the next country. Another land, another timezone, the process was truly exhausting but wondrous all the same. How many others my age were traveling the world working for the biggest entertainer of the decade and getting paid to do so. It was a dream come true.
Teagan tossed my jacket to me and I zipped up my luggage, scanning the room to make sure we left nothing behind. She propped the door open and we made our way downstairs to join the rest of the tech crew we were traveling with who waited in the lobby. The air outside was crisp and our breaths rode on clouds in the cold. We loaded up the busses and waited inside until it was time to head to the airport.
Overnight red eye flights are never optimal travel conditions, but we made do with the time we had. Teagan sat beside me with an exhausted but burning fire of rage in her eyes. I dramatically leaned against the side of the plane, making it a point to sink into the chair, getting as comfy as I could, relishing in the fact that it was my turn for the window seat and her turn to sit cramped in the middle. With a menacing grin I pried open the shutter and Teagan rolled her eyes. She always kept it closed, trying to keep the early rising and invasive sun at bay as we crossed between time zones. Not me, though.
I love to have it open. Looking out that window as you lift away from a thriving city is an experience like no other. It's those fleeting moments as you look out over the sea of lights that stretch for miles like false stars that blanket the earth, stealing the light from the true stars that have vanished from the skies, that I find absolutely magnificent. It's a sad thought in some ways, that something so beautiful from the sky causes such emptiness to the ones looking from below. When you look at it from this angle, though, you almost start to believe that magic may be real. Nothing else can explain the way your heart soars, or the way your breath catches when you see it.
As those distant stationary fireflies faded from view, leaving only the unknown blackness that falls over the land each night, I finally gave in, pulling down the shutter to resign to sleep.
 
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