Krystal

"KRYSTAL, KRYSSIEEE-STAAL."

I rummaged through a couple of clean shirts, and slipped one on, not bothering to clean the small pile of worn clothes that had gathered on the chair beside me. I didn't need to. I was staying. Michael did it again. He forgave me. 

"Wait! I'm coming." 

I slammed the door to my room shut, letting Paris and Blanket latch onto each of my hands, and leading me out into the hallway.

"Hey you two. What's good?" 

"Prince couldn't make it today because Grace said he had to finish his algebra questions but we just want to apologise for yesterday. You were trying to make us happy and we're sorry we got you in trouble." Paris hands me a piece of paper folded into two halves. I open it to see 
an adorable illustration full of primary colours. 

"It's us! It's me, you, Blanket, and Prince!" 

"I-I drew everything."

I bend down to better align with Blanket's height. "You did, did you?"

"Yeah. He didn't let me! But I coloured them in and wrote the poem on the back!" I did as I was told, and was confronted with the same precious handwriting on the note from just a day ago. 

We're sorry we got you in trouble, 
We're really good even if we got you in rubble, 

Get to know us before you judge, 
my favourite sweets are cookies whilst Blanket's is fudge. 

We hope you continue to like us, 
and play with us too. It doesn't have to be everyday, but just know we love you. 

Very much love, 

Prince, Paris, and Blanket

P.S (!!) I love you most - Blanket

It was the cutest thing, ever! 

"We're still on punishment, but we tried our best to tell daddy that it wasn't your fault."

"Can I tell you a secret?" 

They both lean in attentively as if I were about to tell them the biggest secret known to man. 

"You guys are like my new best friends." And it was true. They undeniably made me feel more of myself and more at home. They didn't act like spoilt rich kids, not that I was expecting Michael's children to anyway, but I was still surprised at how fast they warmed up to me, clicked with me, loved me. Maybe playing against Michael's rules a little had its perks after all.

Blanket was the first to react and hugs my neck so tightly, I felt like he was cutting off my circulation. I open an arm and Paris walks into me. 

"Best friends forever! I never really had a best friend for long." 

"Me neither!" 

"Well we found each other now, right?" 

"Yeah! Thats all that matters!" said Paris. 

"Paris! Blanket!" Grace's voice echoed. I let the children run along. 

Last night on the tree, Michael told me that he was hosting a party today, which meant we were serving. I didn't know exactly why there was a party, and he left little room for me to ask before disappearing upstairs. 

"Fetch the tray, Krystal. Those appetisers look soiled."

Joanne takes the tray from my hands when Ms Dubois isn't looking and begins to roll the California rolls again herself seeing as I failed a couple of times already. Honestly, I had never made anything in all of my life, which was a huge disadvantage when moments like this rolled around.

"I'll take care of the food. Make sure every handle you see in sight is glowing like a light bulb and all the cutlery is put on the main table in the right place. Here's a diagram that'll help." 

"You're a life saver. Thank you!" I whisper.

As I walk towards the dining table, I spot Javon running towards me. I stop walking and wait for him to catch his breath. 

"Hey. . .miss! Mr Jackson was wondering if you'd play something for the guests." He takes another fresh breath of air and I relax because I didn't do anything wrong. "I'm sorry if it's too late for you to practice, but he preferably wants you to play Moonriver. He told me to tell you that he'd definitely pay you. If that's okay with you, I'll return the message right away. You can fit in a few minutes and leave duty early if you like." 

It was the least I could do for him. "No no, it's fine. I'll do it," I reply without thinking it through too much. I hadn't played for a crowd in years, but feeling like I would rise to the challenge put me in a state of motivated determination."Tell him to not mind the money though."

"I'll go tell boss right away." Javon raises an eyebrow but smiles at me after a second or two. He then walks off before I look back at the kitchen and see Joanne look at me as if I'd grown two heads.

"Uhhhh-- earth to Joanne." 

"You sure you're a maid?" she sheepishly asks. I realise that she had overheard me and Javon talking and kick myself for not staying more in role. 

"Yeah. Why?" She thankfully leaves it at that, busying herself with the un-made sushi in the kitchen. Close-call. 

Funnily, the idea of impressing Michael again filled me with butterflies. Yes, I was nervous and jumpy, but apart from owing Michael for his tremendous patience for putting up with me until now, a part of me did feel like showing off. If I could fill him with the magic that he made me feel through every speech, song, deed, and lyric, then I would be doing the right thing. 

Michael

"She said she didn't need the money, Sir. But, she agreed." 

"I'll put it in her pay check anyway." My thoughts were too clouded to recall who she was after giving myself a once over in the mirror. Nope, the jacket was all wrong. Indecisively, I reach for a grey blazer. Nothing looked good enough.

I hear an unexpected laugh. 

"Are you trying to look good for anyone, sir? Perhaps for a girl you like?" 

Bill elbows Javon in the ribs. 

"Can't a fifty year old man look good?" I asked without taking my eyes off of my reflection. "I think I'll go casual. There will be young people. I'd like to fit in. The jeans will have to do," I drawl. 

"I know." 

I run a quick hand through my hair, finally a little more satisfied with my attire. Bill hands me my raybans. 

"Well, how do I look?" 

"Fit for a princess, Sir." 

Krystal

With a good twenty minutes to spare, I sprint over to the venue where the guests would arrive. My injured ankle wasn't hindering me from running anymore.

"Thank God." Walking in such a huge house was such a bore.

I reach the staircase which indicated that I wasn't far. I look at my wrist watch. I have a reassuring 25 minutes I could make use out of. That'll probably leave me to go over the piece eight times which was more than enough.

"Ouch. I'm sorry, I'll watch what I'm doing next time-- I'm going to get you some ice-- Can I get you some orange juice--any juice?!"

I start blabbering everything I had rehearsed in my head incase someone at the party got hurt because of my clumsiness; making me look and feel like an idiot since it had already happened before the dang thing even started. 

I look at the tall stranger I had just knocked into, my eyes narrowing as his broad shoulders rotate with his body. 

I stammer, "Mr Jackson. I--." Of all people. . .

He tips his sunglasses downwards revealing the familiar brown eyes that made me want to shrink under their gaze; letting my breath be stolen away while my mind blanks. I can feel the heat rushing to my face and he hasn't said anything yet. His lips part to speak."You're blushing," he nonchalantly points out before I could finish my sentence, sending my hands flying to my cheeks. If I was so used to getting myself into embarrassing situations, why on earth do I feel as embarrassed every time? 

He begins to laugh softly and I divert my eyes elsewhere. Anywhere but his eyes. "Don't worry about it. I doubt you even need to practice when you know Moonriver right off the bat." 

"Yeah! How did you know I was heading there?" 

"Well, you're the only one who tweaks the rules to get to where you want to be on time."
Tweaks the rules? Right, I wasn't allowed to run. 

"Oops." I cheese. "Bad habit since I'm new. I'll remember next time." He puts his glasses back on. 

"I don't mind. I don't even know who made the rules," he smiles his most frequent of frequent smiles. I'm glad. My eyes skim over my watch; 22 minutes. 

"So, you ready?" 

In all honesty, I'm not ready Michael, I feel nervous and tired because I had to wake up early and I'm dehydrated and I have to be perfect because I'm representing you.

"I just hope they'll like it." 

"Of course they will. You'll be playing it." 

I laugh at his adulation. He had such a cute way of flattering people. I stand before him and take in his appearance; his jet black straight hair that matched his black jeans, his prominent facial structure, and his aviators that I couldn't read through. Michael was wearing a white shirt underneath his jacket. He looked so good. I scratch the nape of my neck apprehensively after remembering that I was killing time by the second. 

"Right. Haha, I'll see you in around 20." 

I know it was rude of me, but I took off running instantaneously; throwing the doors to the event-room open and propping myself down to familiarise myself with Moonriver as soon as I could.

*

8pm. 

The music penetrates through what felt like every corner in the building. The guests were going to arrive any minute now and I knew it was time. I pad to the kitchen and look at myself in a mirror, one more time. I was wearing an Indonesian-style batik blouse that hugged my figure which I thought would be perfect for an occasion like this. Everything was set to plan. 

"Ready?" Marissa asks me. I look at Marissa. At almost 6ft in her giant mules, the green sundress she wore paired with them and her gorgeous caramel skin tone made her look like a catwalk model.

"Ready," I exhale.

I put on a decent smile and walk right into the grand hall that was already full with guests.

Some I knew, some I didn't. I instantly recognised Liza Minelli, Cher and another actor; all of which were swaying to Gloria Estefan's 1-2-3 and chatting with a wine glass in hand. 

"P-pardon me-excuse me. Thanks. Can I get you anything?" I make my way round to Liza first because I am a huge fan of her and her mother's. Okay, I couldn't help myself. She was perfect for the role of Sally Bowles in Cabaret and now I had the opportunity to talk to her. 

"Thank you, honey!" Liza and I chit-chat for a few minutes. She gushes about Michael's parties in the past and how they are much better than the other ones she'd been to. We also briefly touch on the subject of Michael, his home, his children, and of course, Liza's illustrious performing career and how she met Michael Jackson; she agrees with everything I say but I have to cut the talk short to re-stock my almost-empty-tray. 

The air was moist and permeated with the smell of an array of expensive colognes and perfumes. It was entertaining being in a crowd I'd never thought I'd be in. As a Korean celebrity, the circle of entertainers I knew felt like a small family. 

"Attention, attention everybody." The music and voices from the crowd die down to nothingness. I can hear a comforting, familiar voice I was used to hearing lately. He walks onto the stage in the room, allowing everyone else to be in awe of a rare moment; a glimpse at this fantastic performer on stage. This must be my moment. 

"Friends, as much as I hope you're already enjoying yourselves, I've prepared a surprise to complete this evening. Miss Krystal will be playing a song on the piano for you all, and on behalf of everyone at my home, we hope you enjoy it." 

I gulp. That was my cue. I take off my apron and set down the tray I'm carrying onto the nearest table. My hands, already beginning to perspire, meant that my nerves had definitely kicked in. Joanne watches me from the sidelines, giving me two thumbs up. I look at her as if to say help but she knows that look too well and dismisses it easily. The flock of people split down the middle like the told-of parting tides from stories about a prophet.

I sit myself down at the polished piano keys, feeling every stare in the room on me and my hands. This wasn't Moonriver, it was a personalised rendition of Moonriver that I'd improvised a year ago after passing one of my exams. I remember that day quite vividly. I was playing a technical version of the very same piece and my parents wanted me to play it in front of our extended family. As I sat at my piano practicing the same notes for the dozenth time, I fiddled with them a little and ended up re-writing a few of the verses. I added in a cantando, a capriccioso and changed some of the dynamics, turning the Breakast at Tiffany's masterpiece into something more orientated towards traditional classical music. It took me five months after that to perfect it and here it was– my craft on show in front of one of the world's greatest performers and his friends. Though the difficulty puts me into a state of tension, I remember it and I play it and I nail it.  

I finish on the last set of notes and wait in the few seconds of silence that follow. I stand up and the guests applaud and cheer and one whistles. My bashfulness returns as I bow and walk away. I really missed performing. 

The music booms from the speakers once again and everyone disperses throughout the hall; talking, sipping, and socialising. I was just so happy I went through with it. I wanted to thank Michael for giving me the opportunity and believing in me but I look around and I couldn't see him. You see, stage fright is something I've always had to tackle and put under the belt. After leaving F(x), I doubted myself, relentlessly. As if the comments and criticism from anti-fans meant anything, my confidence turned quite fragile. But whenever I'm ed up onto a stage and the deed is done, my resilience only grows. 

Joanne is shouting something at me from the kitchen but I can't hear her over the music. 

"The rush is never ending
Now, you got it, you're wow, wow, wow, wow
You got it; you're wow, wow, wow, wow"

"WHAT? I can't hear you!"

I jog to the kitchen instead, but I am stopped by a stocky, tall man with a large build who completely cuts off my view. I wasn't a tall girl, so I decided to wait it out until he moves. 

"Hi! I really liked how you played. It was mesmerising."

"Thanks! I really appreciate it. I'd love to play again sometime, if Mr Jackson let's me." 

"He sure should. He's always bringing fine people into this house. So, uh, how are you?" 

I laugh. "Very well, thank you. You?" 

"Just dandy!" 

The small talk doesn't seem to cut it for either of us and I laugh again but this time more awkwardly. I wanted to get back to Joanne and see what she wanted to tell me. 

The stocky man hesitates for a second and looks back at Michael who is talking to a few guests, Liza included. He was standing maybe 13ft away from where we were.

"I was wondering if you would like to come out with me so we can get a bite to eat together. I know this really fancy place and it seems like just your type. Can you do Saturday? 

I hesitate for a moment because this was happening so fast. He barely knew me and I didn't know what to say. Literally. Maybe this was common courtesy in the states. 

"Why don't you answer him?" A chirpy voice asks me. Redirecting my attention to her, I see it come from an older woman in a maroon dress. 

"Well, I--"

"Hello! It's Channing Tatum!" She gushes before I could answer, even more confused. "And he asked you out! You're a very lucky little maid, ain't cha?" She looks me up and down and pinches my side causing me to flinch. I giggle the whole thing off, a little intimidated. Joanne, please come get me - now.

"Leave it, Sue," laughs the man I now know is Channing.

"You're obviously aren't from around here, are you?" He leans an arm on the wall behind me, leaving little room for me to move away. I swallow hard, not used to this much forwardness. I mean, I could obviously tell he was flirting. . .

Stifling a smile, I reply "I was born in San Francisco but lived in South Korea up until a week ago."

"Korean. I like it," he his lips and smirks, offering a huge and burly hand for me to shake. I tried to move away for some more air, but his frame seemed to keep me from moving anywhere at all except closer towards him. 

"So what'd ya say, pick you up at 8:30, next saturday?" 

The older woman's eyes lit up with so much enthusiasm, I felt like I had the power to break her heart.

"Sure. That's fine. I mean, if that's okay with my boss," I look around for Michael but I was too short to get a glimpse behind the cliques of people insanely taller than I.

Channing looks in the direction I'm looking at and hollers, "Yo MJ!" catching Michael's attention, immediately. He wasn't standing too far away from us, after all. 

"Can I date your y employee? I'll bring her back at 10 on the dot, next saturday." 

Michael stops talking, looking very stern, raises an eyebrow and then turns his head to look at me. He seemed just as unsure to answer as I was. 

"If that's what Krystal would like. . .Then may luck be with the two of you. But make sure you bring her back by 10," he said, sounding like a skeptical father.  

"Awesome!" Channing fists the air. "Well I'll let you get back to your duties, Miss-- Your name? And, can I have your number?"  

"Krystal and of course." He has a pen prepared. "I'll see you later then," I say after jotting it down on the back of his left hand. "I've got stuff to get back to. Enjoy the rest of the evening!"

"Looking forward to it." Channing nods all smug to himself with his arms crossed. The woman standing next to him turns him around to talk. 

The idea of dating while I stayed in America never occurred to me before and I really had no intention to. Feeling the pressure in the moment, I only agreed for that reason, only. In those tense few minutes, I felt rude to just decline. It's like when you're asked if you like a gift you didn't really want or when you're forced to talk to distant relatives you don't remember on the phone just to please them. But aside from that, Channing seemed aright. He was the type guy who you would expect to surprise you with random acts of spontaneity and the man your friends would give you kudos for. 

Marissa, Joanne, Stacy and Benito who were all on duty tonight were waiting by the kitchen. When a few minutes pass and they fail to speak, I was the first to laugh and ask if they were okay. 

"You got Channing Freaking Tatum to have your number!!!" Stacy practically screams but the music is loud enough to drown out her voice.

"Lord have you blessed girl, how did you do that?" Marissa asks. They all gather in more closely.

"I don't know. I didn't even know his name until today. Is he some kind of actor?"

"Where did you live again? Because I swear SK is a hermit country if you haven't heard of Channing Tatum. Yes he's an actor! And you're his date now! Get ready for red carpets and toe-curling moments with the guy, woman," Benito, the only guy in our 'crew' explains. I laugh through clenched teeth when he mentions toe-curling moments. 

They were making this too big of a deal. "It's nothing," I shove Benito, playfully. "Seriously! It's just one date. I've been here for less than a week and I've got so much to do than just date. We're just going to go eat. It's not like I'll let it go any further."

Their faces drop at my lack of excitement and I feel bad. 

Stacy mutters something and I hear all of it. "If only he asked me on a date. I wouldn't be nearly as prude and as boring as her," she says and walks away. It was a little hurtful but I shrugged it off, any way. 

"It's because she's Asian and he probably wanted to try something new. Don't worry." 

"I heard that, Benito." 

Benito looks embarrassed and picks up his pace, guiding her to the sink by her shoulders. I don't even know why they're upset. I'm the one going on a date with him. What matters is what I'm happy with so they shouldn't care if I'm excited or not. 

Michael's guests are dismissed after another half-hour. I help them with their coats and bags and thank them for coming and tell them to come again. Some of them compliment me on my playing and I get a warm tingling feeling in my chest that reminds me of what I love to do; it is a feeling like no other when you're being praised for what you love.

"Great night, wasn't it?" 

I turn around to see Michael standing behind me. He had changed into a silver blazer over a black button down shirt, aviators still over his eyes and a white fedora tilted to the front. I couldn't get past how amazing he looked tonight.

"It really was. I'll be honest though. I'm super tired and I'm glad it's over."

Michael chuckles. "You looked amazing on the piano today. My guests wanted to know where I'd found you. I mean, what can't you do? You do your duties well, play well and my children love you." A classic, full-faced, Michael Jackson grin appears on to his perfectly chiselled face. 

Heat. Rushing. To. My. Face. 

"They're exaggerating for sure." I roll my eyes to disagree and look down, smiling like a little girl. "You've seen what I can be like, Mr Jackson. And the playing. . .I'm sure anyone can do it if they had what I've had. Plus, I like playing."

Michael takes off his glasses and folds them onto his shirt. He was quick to jump to his defence, confuse b his eyes as if I had offended him. "No, that isn't true. You play with something more. You play with animation and a fiery compulsion to portray emotion before all else. Everyone was speechless."

"It just took a lot of practice." 

"That's called talent even if it took you a life time to learn how to play it." 

"It took me five months. That's a lot." 

"Stop undervaluing yourself." 

"Don't make it out to be too big. It was nothing." 

"It was perfect. You were perfect. You are a perfect person, Miss Jung and don't you dare try arguing with me."

"You don't know me." 

"Then maybe I ought to know you better."

*

By now, me and Michael had walked out into one of the balconies that I didn't know even existed in front of the window, outside of the main hall. I was must have been too busy lost in our conversation time because I forgot time even existed. 

"For one," I pause and bite my cheek to stop myself from smiling too much, "I'm too stubborn."

He doesn't hesitate to ask me to elaborate, his eyes examining my face for any give away of emotion. 

"I like order and work and I need to be more easy going." 

"Lame reason. Next." 

"I didn't really want to say yes to Channing's invitation out today but I really had no reason to turn him down either." I couldn't help myself but mention it. A part of me wanted to know what he thought. 

"Is that your idea of stubborn?" 

"Poor guy deserves a chance!" 

"You could have just given me a hint if you didn't want to go out with him." 

I wanted to tell him that it was a little too late for that but took a moment to think about how much this man cared for me, instead. He was obviously treating me as if I wasn't just an employee he had met earlier this week but, like the same friend I saw in him. His eyes were glowing. When I am with Michael, I feel this strong sense of safety I can't word with just twenty six letters in the alphabet. 

"Speaking of Channing, I know how exciting it must feel to be with someone with an image as big as his, I know. But, if ever anything happens to, err- happen and you don't want it to, then call for me. Oh, and you could always call it off if you change your mind." 

"What could happen?" I put my hand on my stomach and snort. 

"Nothing. I just want you to feel safe whilst you're here." 

"Coming from someone I admire so much, that means the world to me. Thank you, Michael."