Alpha – Chapter 1

The Essence

Club Essence, Los Angeles – January 31^st, 1989

Michael

I wasn’t even supposed to be at that club. However, all things considered, it wasn’t a bad thing that I had decided to stick around. I had been working nonstop for only God knew how long and, to be quite honest, I couldn’t even remember the last time I had taken some time off. Just a bit of time for myself to do something that wasn’t dancing, composing, recording or performing. Or flying around the world like a mad chicken being freed into the farmyard. My life back then was a whirlwind. At times, it was so easy to lose track of what existed beyond my career, and the contracts, and the venues, and the interminable meetings and all that jazz.

I often complained about my lost childhood – which was a real thing, of course – but the truth was that my life had never really changed. It had always been that way since I could remember. I was merely thirty,  yet I felt as if I had been working nonstop for twenty-five years straight.

Because that was exactly what had happened.

And so I was glad I could take a darn break, even though going out for a drink usually wasn’t my thing.

However, John and Julie had insisted, and their first wedding anniversary party had been a nice opportunity to do something unusual. The party in itself had been OK. Quite entertaining, in fact. I had feared I wouldn’t even be able to enjoy it, that I would end up being hunted down like a rabbit by the press even in such a private setting, but weirdly enough it hadn’t happened. As a matter of fact, I had been quite comfy in my role as John’s former best man – after having been his actual best man one year prior. No issues whatsoever.

Besides, how good it had been to have all eyes focused on someone else, even if only for a handful of hours!

At the party, I had spent the afternoon hanging out at this beautiful place where the celebrations were being held. I had small talks with people I barely recognized, trying as best as I could not to slip into my usual businessman mode. Well, it had worked!

And then, when I thought it was all over and I had told Bill that I was pretty much ready to go, something unexpected had happened. Laurie, one of the few people at the wedding who I would call a friend, had walked over to me and she had this sparkle in her eyes.

“Hey, Mike…”

She had tugged at my sleeve.

“Oh, hey Laurie… Glad you popped up. I was just about to bolt, but at least I can give you a hug before I leave.”

She immediately hugged me and planted a big kiss on my cheek.

“Oh, you do need to bolt. But you ain’t going back home, mister. Nope, not yet. You’re coming with me.”

“I’m coming with you? Where?”

Laurie was a cute, bubbly girl. A bundle of energy, really, and a pleasure to be around. Maybe a little too energetic for my taste at times, but all in all the most decent friend. I had met her through John a couple of years earlier and, since then, we had stayed in contact with regular calls as I traveled all over the world. We didn’t have many occasions to hang out, given my lifestyle and all, but at times it happened, and those nights spent in her company were fun and relaxing.

Laurie was also not the kind of girl I could ever be into – I only liked her as a friend. And at that jam-packed stage of my life, friends – or, best-case scenario, friends with benefits – were all I could afford to have. It was pretty sad in a way, but also the most functional option for a workaholic like me.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to have a family, I did. I could easily imagine myself married to a beautiful woman and taking care of an army of kids at some point in time. I could even more easily imagine myself helplessly in love, committed and content in my stable relationship. But right then was just not the right time of my life to think about that.

“Oh, come on! Are you really asking? We’re gonna spend the rest of the night at the Essence! It’s gonna be so much fun!”

I frowned. Where had I heard that name before?

“The Essence? You mean the new bar on Santa Monica Boulevard?”

“What are you talking about, bar? I mean the hottest jazz club in town! Dang, Mike, where the heck do you live?”

Yeah, that was an apt question. Where the heck did I live, indeed? In my own bubble, obviously. Confined in my apartment when I was home. At times, I had no grasp of anything that happened outside of its tight confines. The world that embraced me excluded me at the same time. The fortress had become a prison.

I had shrugged.

“Ah, I see. The lounge bar, then. Never been there.”

“You haven’t? That’s, uh… unsurprising.”

That remark had made me chuckle. The casual, slightly sarcastic tone she had used. But it was still the truth.

“Well… I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m pretty tired, and I was just thinking about going to sleep.”

“Get the fuck outta here. You never sleep, Michael.” Her tugging at my sleeve had become more insistent. Just like her cute little pout. “Come on, man… don’t let me go on my own…”

“Wait, what do you mean you’re on your own?”

“Well, I’m not really on my own, but without you, I’d be with folks I barely know. And why should  I be, when I can have you with me? You, of all people! Please, Mike, please. Don’t make me act like an ass and beg you in front of everyone. Come with me.”

I had chewed on the inside of my cheek. I really didn’t feel like carrying on with the celebrations, and I was afraid a club wasn’t exactly the safest place for me either. The last thing I needed or wanted was to be at the center of everyone’s attention after having avoided it like the plague for the entire day. However, at the same time the idea of my female friend being pretty much alone in a bar, at night, without any safe backup, rubbed me the wrong way.  Whether I liked it or not, I had been raised in a certain way, after all.

“Who’s gonna be there? Do you know?”

“Well, some of the guests, that’s for sure. And probably some plus-ones. All I know is that it’s a very safe, exclusive setting and not many people will have access to it. At least not tonight. You’re gonna be fine, nobody’s gonna bother you.” Laurie had given me her sweetest smile. “Come on, Michael. Don’t let me go without you. I haven’t seen you in ages and you’re gonna be gone again soon, anyway. You’re always gone.”

I had just stared at her for a moment, and then I had thrown Bill a look. My dear friend, father figure and head of security looked exhausted and I knew that he just wanted to go back home to his wife and kids. As he had all the rights to do.

“Alright… Just give me five minutes, OK… I wanna talk to Bill, first.”

So, what had happened next was that I had indeed spoken to Bill and told him that he could just go back home, and that I would take some more hours off. I would be on my own, with a friend, but I would be safe and nothing would happen to me even if I wasn’t on his watch. He hadn’t been happy at all, because he had always been very protective of me. However, eventually he had convinced me to bring along at least a couple of other security guys. It was fine, as long as they didn’t stay velcroed to me all the time.

Well, it turned out that Laurie was right and that her plans for the night weren’t half-bad either. The Essence was a nice, cozy place, dark enough for me to blend in without any major issues. I didn’t have to experience any crowd swarming me and, in fact, most of the people in the club were folks I had already bumped into at John’s party. There were also some new faces, people I didn’t recognize and a lot of secluded tables, but it was OK. Perhaps I truly was going unnoticed wearing plain clothes and zero sequins and sparkling socks. Eventually, even my security detail relaxed and sat at the bar, finally having the chance to unwind and enjoy a drink.

I spent some time with Laurie until some of her friends popped up. They weren’t at the wedding and had never seen me and, apparently, they hadn’t believed Laurie when she had told them that we were friends, either. The result was something I was used to: a – thankfully small – group of people surrounding me, as if they needed to make sure I was real, a human being in flesh and bones. In different circumstances maybe I would have stayed longer, but not that night. I needed to carry on with the sorta-kinda peace I had been enjoying all day, and so I came up with an excuse to walk away.

Of course, Laurie tried to stop me.

“Mike, don’t leave. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know they would squeal like banshees on an acid trip just by seeing you. I know I could have imagined it because you’re… well, you. But if you’re bothered, I’m just gonna tell them to cut it out and buzz off.”

I just hugged her.

“No, it’s fine. They’re alright. I’m glad you got some friends to keep you company… I just wanna have a drink by myself, if that is OK with you…”

“Sure, of course it is… I just don’t want you to feel lonely.”

Oh, if only she knew how lonely I could feel at times. But not at that specific time. I smiled.

“Nah, I’m good. Hey, do you need anything? Want me to have one of my guys stay here with you so he can drive you home, later? Just in case I leave first and you feel you gotta spend some more time in this place.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to spend the entire night in this club? It’s amazing!”

“Yeah, well… I just want you to be safe. If I can help, just let me know.”

Laurie touched the side of my face and stared at me for a moment like a sister would do.

“You are such a gentleman, Mike. Always so considerate and caring. But no, thank you. I am a big girl, I can take care of myself. You just go and enjoy your drink.” She blinked. “Oh, and by the way…  in case you decide you’re gonna stop being so grumpy and broody and wanna have some fun, there’s a beautiful girl over there who just can’t take her eyes off you, just so you know…”

“Yeah… Whatever.”

I just hugged her one final time and then watched her as she walked away, opened her arms and squealed in happiness when one of her girlfriends made her grand entrance in the hall. Well… Laurie sure looked like she was all set for the night for real. At least now she had some actual friends to spend her time with.

At that point, I had almost forgotten what she had told me – about the girl who supposedly couldn’t take her eyes off me. Sighing, I leaned against the bar counter and sipped my Vieux Carré, slowly turning my head to take a look around. Of course I was curious. Of course I wanted to know who Laurie was talking about. But at the same time I also wanted to look chill and inconspicuous.

It took me maybe five seconds to realize who my friend had noticed, and it wasn’t only because it was simply impossible not to, given how stunning the girl in question was. It was also because I had seen her before, earlier that day, although for a brief moment. And one year earlier, at the wedding itself – again, for the shortest instant.

At the opposite side of the room, across the dance floor, the young woman with the bright eyes sat all alone at a small, round table in the corner, almost immersed in the darkness. Even from where I was, I could easily make out her features. They were unmistakable and plus, I knew exactly who she was.

Her name was Lisa Presley.

When I said that I had seen Lisa before, I just meant earlier that day, and not that I was familiar with her or that I had truly met her. I hadn’t, at that point in time. Not yet. Of course, I knew who she was – Elvis’ only daughter, the only heiress of the Presley empire – and I had bumped into her mother Priscilla a few times over the years, given that she and I shared the same lawyer: John.

As far as Lisa went, I had seen her on the cover of a few magazines, but she looked very different in person. As a matter of fact, she was drop-dead gorgeous, and pictures didn’t do her justice. How old was she, I wondered? Twenty, twenty-something, maybe? I could only guess.

Of course, I had already noticed how beautiful she was earlier that afternoon while I was standing next to John and trying to make small talk with people whose names I had already forgotten. I had just been standing there stock-still like a fool, wondering what I was supposed to do or say, distractedly listening to John fawning over her wife and wondering if that magical feeling would at some point be also part of my life, when this miniature goddess had pretty much appeared out of nowhere.

Wearing a long, coral-red dress that highlighted the beauty of her slender body, Lisa had quietly walked over to her mother – yeah, Priscilla too had been at the party, although she and I hadn’t interacted – and had crouched down next to her chair. They had exchanged a few words and I could tell from the way the older woman set her jaw that she was not happy with whatever her daughter was telling her.

And then Lisa had turned her head and our eyes had met for the briefest moment. I couldn’t say how long it lasted, but it sure felt like time dilated forever.

Enough for me to notice her facial features. Her luscious lips, hooded aqua eyes, perfect nose. Her thin yet absolutely sexy frame. And of course, her resemblance to her dad, which was unmistakable. Damn, I had thought. She does look a lot like Elvis – and she took the best from Priscilla, as well!

And then she was gone. Just like that. Like a Fata Morgana. A mirage in the desert.

I hadn’t really thought about her anymore until I saw her again hours later, at the Essence. And, once again, Lisa was staring at me.

Just like earlier that day, I couldn’t really read her expression. She was like a Mona Lisa to me, and when the thought crossed my mind I couldn’t help but smile, ever so slightly, at the verbal fumble. And just like that, a tiny smile graced her lips as well. The girl with the beautiful face and the delicious body was smiling back at me.

Something moved in my chest, like a thud.

Whoa.

Well, maybe I really could saunter over to her table, given that I was at the club all alone and she also seemed to be on her own. I was just about to do it when another girl walked over, leaned in and planted a big kiss right on Lisa’s lips. She lingered there for a moment, too.

I froze.

That was unexpected – and a bit disappointing. Maybe Elvis’ princess wasn’t into guys that much. Sighing to myself, I turned around and motioned for the bartender.

A second glass slid right in front of me, the crystal shining under the reddish light. Magic!

I took a sip and the jazz music playing in the background distracted me for a handful of seconds. Until I felt a presence next to me. Turning again, I noticed that it was Lisa. Possibly the last person I would have ever imagined sitting by my side at a bar.

I just stood there like a dimwit, looking at her.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

Thank God I had been trained to recover quickly and have my bland mask back at its place in zero time.

“I’m Lisa.”

“I’m Michael.”

“Oh, I know who you are.”

“Me too.”

She gave me a lopsided smirk that looked real cute on her face.

“You know who you are? That’s grand.”

I had to chuckle.

“No, I mean that I know who you are.”

“I see.” She bit her lip in concentration. “Why didn’t you come over?”

Well, sure as hell she made it clear from the get-go that she was quite the straightforward girl.

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t planning to go anywhere.”

She smirked again in that special way that I found quite smug. And attractive. There was just something about her lips that…

“Weren’t you, really?”

I just shrugged.

“Well, I just saw you had company, so I changed my mind.” Once again, I motioned for the bartender, who thankfully didn’t seem too impressed by me – or Lisa, for that matter. “Can I get you anything?”

“A bourbon or scotch, neat, will be fine. But I’m paying for my drink, thank you.”

“Hey… I didn’t mean alcohol.”

“What are you? My father? I’m old enough to decide what I’m gonna drink, if you don’t mind.”

She wasn’t being hostile at all, but I could sense she wasn’t the kind of woman who would have it any other way but her own. And she was right, after all. I wasn’t her father, and she was an adult.

“Wow. OK.” I turned to the guy. “Hey, man… A bourbon for the lady, please.”

Lisa and I stayed quiet for a moment, just listening to the music in the background. Probably assessing each other. It didn’t feel awkward at all, strangely enough. It almost felt like being trapped in some sort of bubble. The red velvet of the furniture. The vintage tapestry on the wallpaper. The jazz music and the smell of expensive cigars and hard liquor in the air. The dimmed down lights.

“I gotta say, I thought you would go for a beer.”

She laughed.

“Not tonight, no. Tonight is special.”

I really wanted to know what was so special about that night, but I didn’t think asking her was the right thing to do, given that it was our first conversation and all. It wasn’t that she and I were intimate or anything.

“Well, alright. However, let me tell you this… A woman who orders a bourbon or a scotch neat knows exactly what she wants, cares about what she drinks and doesn’t mess around.”

Her eyes kept laughing as she stood up, her glass in her hand. I just glanced at her, noticing that her outfit was slightly different compared to earlier that day. She still wore her beautiful coral-red dress, but no longer high heels. They had been replaced by shiny black combat boots, a perfect match for her black leather jacket. Even her hair was no longer styled in that fairytale princess up-do. That dark cascade was now down on her shoulders. She looked almost like a little warrior. It was as if Lisa wanted to let everyone know that she didn’t care about what people thought of her without saying anything out loud at all. That she would not do what others – her mom, maybe? – expected her to do. Regardless, she looked stunning. And she was fierce.

“Whatever you say, man. Listen, I don’t like sitting at the bar. I don’t wanna look like someone who’s waiting for something… or someone.” She tilted her head. “What about we go back to my table?”

She began to walk away without even waiting for an answer.

And so I followed her.

Lisa

Finding the guts to get up and go to him as if it was the most normal thing in the world hadn’t been as easy as he probably thought it was – or as I made it look. But at that point in my life, I had already learned to act way tougher than I really was. It was all make-believe, but also the only defense mechanism I had and, thankfully, it worked with Michael as well. At least for the time being.

Even when his eyes began to scan me as if he was trying to read something that I was not willing to disclose, I kept my poker face in place. I would not let this guy guess what really was going through my mind. It didn’t matter how hypnotizing his eyes were or how gorgeous he looked upp-lose and personal. And he did indeed look way more handsome than I could have ever imagined. Pictures or TV footage really didn’t do him justice.

As a matter of fact, I had already noticed that he was attractive. It had happened during the wedding, one year earlier, when I had decided to just pop up for a minute to tell my mother that I wouldn’t be staying. Michael hadn’t even seen me, back then – but I had. It was hard not to notice John’s best man.

Then, the same thing had happened again earlier that day, when I had shown up at the party just to leave ten minutes later, spotting Michael in a small group of people busy talking about only God knew what.

“Hey, mom… I’m just wanted you to know that I’m heading back home. I got stuff to do.”

Mom had just stared at me for a second, her eyes letting me know she didn’t like my behavior one bit. I knew I was breaking the rules – her rules – but that place just wasn’t for me. Glitzy people weren’t my thing, especially if my mother was around, showing me off as if I was some sort of trophy. Of course, she was pissed, but she would have to suck it up. I was no longer a kid, and she couldn’t force me to do what she wanted anymore.

What had become apparent from the get-go was that Mother sure had big plans for the day. She thought she would formally introduce me to her uppity friends, given that it was the eve of my twenty-first birthday at all, but quite frankly the last thing I wanted was to be celebrated by people I felt I had nothing in common with. And so I had bolted, pretty much pissing all over her plans. I was sorry about John and Julie ‘cause they were nice people and all, but at the same time this was their moment and their celebration – not mine.

The only positive detail about the whole situation had been seeing the mighty Mr. Jackson in person again, even if only for a brief moment. I had heard rumors that he would be around and that he was close to John, but I hadn’t pay them any mind. I didn’t really care. He was the ultimate superstar, but so what? Big whoop. It wasn’t that I wasn’t used to stardom, after all, since I was born into it and I had grown tired of it pretty quickly.

However, I was surprised to find out that he was at the party – exactly one year after having shown up as John’s best man. And the vibes he had exuded when our eyes had locked were unlike anything I would have expected from him. They had made me feel in some kind of way. To the point that, in the back of my mind, I had even started thinking that maybe I could stick around for a little while, just to see what would happen. Just to see if it was just my imagination.

But nope. I was more stubborn than I could ever be enticed by any man on this planet. I had left and gone on with my day.

Now, the Essence was another thing entirely. That was a place I wanted to see, and I wanted to be on my own while doing it. This was just one of those days when I didn’t feel like having anyone around, and so I had planned to just have a couple of drinks by myself and then call a cab and go back home. Maybe I could sleep it off for a few hours before putting my princess mask back in place and having my birthday celebrated in grand style at the mansion. Like the good girl my mom wanted me to be, despite me being anything but. Oh, she had always made sure I knew what a disappointment I was, to her.  It never failed, and it would sting every single time.

And now, well… Now my plans had changed once again, seemed like. Because sure as fuck, the last person I expected to see at the club was Mr. Jackson himself. For the third time! Even less, I would have ever fathomed that he was a whiskey kinda guy. Having to bet, I would have gone with some orange juice for him – or plain water – but, as I was finding out, the real guy was not exactly the person that the press loved to portray. Not really that flashy and in need to be noticed, just for starters. And also, that famous man-child attitude was nowhere to be found either, just like that soft voice he used in public. Well, Michael did speak softly, but the color of his voice was way darker, deeper and thicker than I had expected. Velvety and seductive. He looked and sounded confident and if his was all an act… well, then maybe we both were wearing our public masks just fine.

However, the point was that the superstar and the man didn’t really overlap that much once you interacted with Michael in an informal setting. There was just something about him that I hadn’t been expecting, and that had caught me completely off guard. Just like realizing that I was drawn to him, that I wanted to find out what this man was all about, and why everyone seemed to flock to him like bees to a flower.

His little remark about my drink had also struck me, given that I had gone through the same mental process when I saw him sip a glass of Vieux Carré, of all things. What a refined, stylish choice.

The vibe was pretty clear. It showed that the guy enjoyed whiskey but not just some random brand. He knew some more obscure classics, as obviously he was a seasoned traveler. That wasn’t a big surprise, of course.

The sweet, seductive scent of Cognac, Martini and vermouth reached me when Michael followed me and stepped closer, almost entering my personal space but always keeping a bit of a polite distance, asking me if I was sure he could sit down at my table. Once again, he was an absolute gentleman, but delivered the question in that deep, sultry, sexy-ass voice that I had never heard him use during interviews.

At that point in time, I didn’t know that it would take one single night to change the course of my entire existence. Not yet. I thought I was in control, I thought it would be easy to dominate the setting, like it would usually happen with men. At least in my own little world. Guys were never a challenge to me, never difficult, never something I really had to fight hard for. And I knew that, for most of them, it was just all about my name. It was just about carving a notch into the bedpost if they ever had the chance to screw the Presley girl. The chick with the big name and not much else to offer. With time, I had learned not to care too much about it, but in order to do so, I had been forced to shut off and lock my heart in a safe place. I still remembered one of the supervisors in Clearwater, nagging at me because I would always look sad or aloof. I hadn’t even dignified him of an answer because I didn’t expect him to understand. It wasn’t his fault, after all.

What was I supposed to smile about? I was not a happy person. For a while I had been a very, very happy child – and then tragedy struck and I lost my father. I was just a little kid back then and my world had crumbled and, even as an adult, I was still trying to put the pieces back together. To figure out how things had gone so wrong so early. Not much time left to smile when you felt like you were shattered into thousands of pieces and could never be whole again.

Yet, Michael had been able to do that just fine just by talking with me about liquors. Making me smile, that is. And it had come natural to me. Effortless. So maybe that had been the thing. Maybe that had been the detail that had prompted me to want to spend some more time with him.

And so I just walked back to my table in the corner with Michael in tow, not even needing to look at him to know that he was checking me out. Staring at my ass in a covert manner or something. And even though we barely knew each other, I was perfectly fine with it. With his eyes singing me through my clothes. Even years later, I couldn’t tell if mine was defiance or just straight-up boredom, but starting a conversation with the biggest star on the planet definitely wasn’t something I had in mind when I had arrived at the club. It had just happened.

“So… why did you want me here, at your table? I totally wasn’t expecting you would ever come over and talk to me.”

What a weird question. Why not?

He sat on the deep-red sofa and relaxed against the cushions. As his eyes still scanned me, still tried to read me, he reached up and unbuttoned his jacket, then loosened his tie. He was still wearing his formal outfit, and it looked damn good on him. Far from the flashy, bold items of clothing I had seen him wear on stage or during public events. For John’s, Michael had chosen something different – that wouldn’t put him front and center for once. He had donned a black suit, black tie and white shirt. His hair was tied in a ponytail. He looked discrete, yet classy. Sexy.

“Because I am on my own and you seem to be, too.”

He tilted his head and his eyes narrowed. I could tell he was used to watching his back constantly. I was too.

“But are you, really? On your own, I mean. I saw you and your girlfriend kissing just minutes ago.”

I had to smile. Again. Oh, I knew he had noticed, that he had been watching. And I had also noticed that, unlike other men, the sight hadn’t propelled him forward in the hope he would end up caught in a threesome, but instead had held him back. A nice change for once.

“She’s not my girlfriend. Only a friend I sometimes play with… just for fun. But it wasn’t even a smooch. It was just a peck on the lips. Silly, meaningless stuff. Don’t read too much into it.”

His face remained unreadable, but those dark eyes of his looked amused. He was a mysterious guy, that was for sure.

“Just for fun, huh? And, pray tell, who you girls make fun of?”

“Guys, usually. But not all of them. You, for example, looked pretty unbothered.”

This time I did get a bit of reaction. In fact, Michael smiled back at me – and it was a beautiful sight. An open, honest smile that lit up his entire face. The smile of someone who was probably unlike any other guy.

“Well, why should I be bothered? I hardly know you.”

“You don’t know me at all, Michael. We never met before.”

Chuckling, he sipped his drink.

“Oh, yes, we did.”

“If you’re talking about earlier this afternoon, I wouldn’t really call it an introduction. You were busy chatting, and I was leaving.”

Michael put his glass of Vieux Carré back on the table. Once again he looked quite pleased with himself and I wondered if I had given away a little too much. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to know that I had noticed him, at the wedding.

“I’m not talking about today. I met you about fifteen years ago, when you were nothing but a child and I was just a teen. Your dad took you to see me and my brothers more than once.”

I just stood there, looking at him as if he had suddenly grown two heads. What the hell was he talking about? I had never seen him in person before John’s wedding. Or had I? And why was he bringing up my father as if it was the most natural thing to do?

Old defense mechanisms immediately resurfaced, together with the contrasting feelings that would always come along with them. Part of me immediately walled up – and closed off, wanting to end this conversation then and there. But there was also another side… A much softer, more unguarded and way more fragile part of me that wanted to know everything about those times. Before I had to experience the utter shock of losing the man that meant the most to me, that made me feel unique and loved and special. That made me feel as if I was worth something.

I realized that I didn’t know how to handle what Michael was offering, even though it was so tempting to give in and just ask him to elaborate. To tell me every single detail he remembered about that past I missed so much… even though I could barely remember it. His face… it was gentle, open. Honest. I swallowed hard and gulped down my drink, immediately signaling the bartender that I would need another one ASAP.

“Well, maybe you’re mistaken, because I don’t recall any of that.”

“It’s normal you don’t. Like I said, you were little. But we definitely met before, albeit briefly.”

I just stayed quiet, and we stared at each other. He almost looked as if he was trying to assess the situation and see if he was supposed to go ahead and keep talking. Then his eyes turned even more tender than they had been up until that point.

“You were very shy. I remember you hiding behind your dad’s legs, barely looking at us.” He paused. “But then he began taking you backstage again and again. And after a couple of times, you started saying hello to me and my brothers. You were probably six or seven, I think.”

The waiter came and went, and I stared at my drink, watching the amber liquid swirl into the tight confines of the glass.

“I wish I could tell you I remember.”

There really wasn’t anything else I could say to him. My memories were fuzzy. Nothing but small patches of colors, chopped sounds, my dad’s face, settings I couldn’t really place, muffled voices. I wished it wasn’t that hard to bring back the happiest time of my life – at least in my mind. All of a sudden all my bravado was gone, and I didn’t care about dominating the setting anymore. All of a sudden, I felt sad and forlorn – and alone. A feeling I hated.

“It’s OK. I will try to remember for both of us.”

I glanced up at Michael again.

I didn’t think his answer to fears and pains he had no idea I was experiencing could have been more beautiful.