MJ, Part 3
It felt as if the dinosaurs were about to leap right out of the screen. When the Tyrannosaurus rex opened its massive maw and let out a deafening roar, the shock felt by the audience was nothing short of monumental.
To put it into perspective, it was a shock akin to what the first humans must have felt upon seeing an airplane take flight, or what explorers felt upon landing on a new continent and encountering people with entirely different skin tones.
The audience had no choice but to sit there, utterly dumbfounded and overwhelmed by the spectacle that was Jurassic Park.
People marveled at the sheer evolution of cinematic technology.
Some conspiracy theorists, of course, chose to believe their own wild fantasies.
As everyone enjoyed this new-generation blockbuster in their own way, Sion Lee's stock—having appeared in the very first scene of the movie—inevitably began to rise as well.
With his exceptionally long limbs, simply watching him desperately scramble toward the raptor cage made for a stunning, cinematic shot. And in the subsequent sequence, where he collapsed in sheer terror, he momentarily stole the audience's breath before exiting the film entirely. It was a clean, natural exit that left the audience wanting more—the absolute ideal for a cameo.
On top of that, he had been constantly appearing on television screens until recently through The College Player. Naturally, everyone was eager to see what his next move would be.
While his name was on everyone's lips, a tall man wearing sunglasses was currently standing in front of an airport security checkpoint.
The uniformed officer in front of him spoke gruffly.
"Could you open your bag for inspection, please?"
"..."
"Um, excuse me, is there some kind of problem...?"
A petite, bespectacled woman squeezed in to ask. It was Dorothy, a temporary manager assigned to him by the MTV documentary crew. She was as timid and fragile as she looked, and she couldn't for the life of her understand why a rookie like herself had been tasked with accompanying a massive star like Sion Lee on an international trip.
Of course, the truth was that everyone else had found the assignment too intimidating, so they had decided it via a roulette wheel where Dorothy's name occupied fifty percent of the space.
Although Sion Lee's public image had improved significantly of late, those who actually had to work with him face-to-face still found themselves incredibly tense.
The reason was simple. It was the combined effect of his past "bratty" behavior, his still-smug and slightly fierce attitude, and the intense aura of a brilliant actor he had recently developed.
In fact, everyone around the security checkpoint was currently staring at Sion. The security officers were also on high alert, bracing themselves for any potential incident. Sion Lee's presence was just that overwhelming. If a scene broke out here, it would undoubtedly turn into a massive PR disaster.
"...We detected something unusual inside."
"U-Unusual? Mr. Lee... could it be...?"
"Good grief, what do you take me for? Go ahead and open it."
Sion gestured toward his suitcase with an indifferent shrug. Dorothy felt a cold sweat break out across her back. Was there some kind of dangerous, prohibited item in his trunk? What if Sion got detained? What about the shoot? The schedule? Her mind went completely blank with anxiety.
The security officer slowly unzipped the suitcase and inspected its contents.
What emerged from the bag was...
"...Huh?"
"Eh?"
...a remote-controlled RC car.
And that wasn't all.
Inside was a noisy spinning top with built-in bearings, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figure, a toy called "Mega Fighter," a Nintendo Game Boy, a Super Soaker water gun, and various other childish toys.
While both the officer and Dorothy stood there utterly dumbfounded, Sion narrowed his eyes behind his sunglasses.
"Is there a problem with any of this?"
"Ah, no. It doesn't seem so."
"You could clearly see what was inside anyway, so why are you wasting a busy man's time?"
"M-Mr. Lee, as long as the misunderstanding is cleared up..."
"Can't a guy carry a few toys?! Did I do something wrong?!"
The officer couldn't find the words to respond to Sion's sudden outburst.
Who could have imagined? Who would have guessed that instead of beer or a lipstick-stained souvenir from a girl he'd kissed, Sion Lee's suitcase would be packed to the brim with children's toys?
To put it simply, the very first step of Sion's strategy was to become close friends with Michael Jackson.
In order to shield him from the false child abuse allegations that would erupt in August, Sion believed that establishing a direct, personal friendship with him was of the utmost urgency.
However, Michael's management team was not keen on Sion getting close to him.
I felt a bit of wariness from them even during our initial business meeting.
They likely worried that Sion's public bad-boy image might rub off on Michael in a negative way.
Well, I can understand where they're coming from.
Michael Jackson was a flawless, pure artist. From their perspective, associating with Sion—whose public reputation was still a mixed bag—offered no benefits whatsoever.
But as someone who knew what the future held, Sion had to close the distance, become close friends on a human level, and propose his plan directly.
That's the only way I can truly help prevent those false allegations from ruining him.
Normally, the proper procedure would have been to propose a meeting through the tour management team, but the circumstances didn't allow for it. A tour of this scale required meticulous management of everything from equipment transport and setup to the performers' daily schedules to ensure peak performance. It was all designed to keep the artist in optimal condition, and Michael Jackson was a notorious perfectionist in that regard.
So if I went the conventional route and said, "Hey, I want to hang out and get close to Michael," they'd just cut me off immediately, saying, "What are you talking about? We're busy."
Moreover, since his first impression with the agents had been slightly strained, he couldn't expect much help from that direction either.
But what if he became close with Michael first and proposed it directly? Especially if the proposal aligned perfectly with Michael's personal philosophy?
He won't be able to refuse.
Concluding that he needed to build a rapport with Michael first, Sion had stopped by a local toy store as soon as the deal was finalized and swept up everything in sight. He had even scoured local flea markets and street stalls looking for unique, interesting items that Michael might not already own.
Michael Jackson was a man with the heart of a young boy. Having lived the life of a superstar rather than a normal child since his youth, he had poured the lingering pain of his lost childhood into his estate, Neverland. He spent his free time inviting countless children there to play and laugh together.
Aside from his music and performing for his fans, those were undoubtedly the happiest moments of his life.
Thinking back, it really was a "Neverland."
An eternal playground for children who refused to grow up. Yet, the adult world had used those very children to launch a brutal, merciless attack on Peter Pan.
Following the first allegations in 1993 and the second trial in 2005, Peter Pan eventually abandoned Neverland, never to return until the day he died.
Even before his regression, thinking about how Michael must have felt had deeply saddened the middle-aged, cynical Sion. Perhaps the reason he felt such a strong, genuine desire to help him now was because, like the man who built Neverland, a part of Sion still remained a Peter Pan who only wanted to act with pure devotion.
"Ah, h-hello..."
When they finally met in person, Michael Jackson was entirely different from what Sion had anticipated.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Lee... I'm Michael Joseph Jackson."
He looked frail, almost fearful.
Facing such a man, Sion was overcome by an indescribable wave of emotion. The sheer awe of standing before a genius artist who had defined an era, left an immeasurable impact on pop music, and whose image would be preserved in countless legendary videos for generations to come... he didn't even have the luxury to celebrate it.
...I can barely find my voice.
It might have been rude to think, but the current Michael Jackson bore a striking resemblance to Sion's past self—the man who had shut himself away in his room, his face ruined, cursing the world.
But while the past Sion had been a fool who expressed his pain through self-destructive rage, this man was a giant who channeled his suffering into breathtaking songs and beautiful music.
Just by catching a glimpse of the psychology written on his face, Sion felt the staggering, painful gulf between a world-class genius like Michael and the third-rate failure he had been in his past life.
"Um, so..."
They were sitting in a spacious bar in the hotel lounge, which Michael had personally come down to meet him in.
Because Michael had rented out the entire upper floor of the building, there were no other guests, but the staff attending to Michael Jackson and "the handsome young man beside him" looked as though they were living in a dream.
"What is... that?"
Sion snapped out of his thoughts at Michael's quiet, almost desperate attempt to initiate conversation.
"Oh, this? I saw it in the neighborhood and bought it. Pretty fun, right?"
"I-I see. But they... sang my song rather strangely."
"Ah, it's incredibly weird, isn't it? Calling it 'Bitch.' The phrasing is so vulgar. It completely ruined the original song."
"Indeed, with lyrics like that, it doesn't seem like a song that would be pleasant for many people to listen to."
Michael smiled shyly, his shoulders slightly hunched.
"Still, I... understand the people who like that sort of thing. 'Bad words' stimulate the brain. That's probably why they find it amusing."
"Exactly. And while some people might spiral down a bad path if they only seek out that kind of stimulation, others might actually discover your masterpieces because of it. Songs like 'We Are the World.'"
"Hehehe... Strictly speaking, that wasn't just my song, but a collaboration with many other artists. Still, I hope people will continue to love it for what it is."
"I'm sure they will, Michael. At any rate, popular art isn't bound by morality or ethics. Only by the law. That's why, to show people a wider variety of things, one sometimes has to know how to play dirty... It's a very difficult dilemma."
Sion spoke in a gentle, casual tone as he sipped his coffee. Michael stared at him intently, a soft glint of moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes.
"...Do you need a tissue?"
"Ah, n-no... I'm sorry. It's just been so long."
"Since what? Since someone used a bad word like 'bitch'?"
"No... since I've talked about art with someone."
"Come to think of it, you said during your interview with Oprah that if you met Michelangelo, you'd want to ask him what inspired him, not who he went on a date with."
"...I did say that."
A faint, lonely shadow crossed Michael's face. Sion felt a complex mix of emotions welling up again, but he deliberately flashed a cocky grin to lighten the mood.
"Go ahead and ask."
"What?"
"Because the Michelangelo of the future is sitting right in front of you."
Michael blinked in surprise for a moment, then couldn't help but let out a clear, beautiful laugh.
"...Oh, Michael. That's a bit harsh. I know I'm not even worth a single hair on Michelangelo's eyebrow, but a guy can at least speak with confidence, can't he?"
"No, no, no... I didn't mean it like that. It's just... you are so different from what I expected."
"Well, I suppose you're more curious about the dating rumors anyway, right? Like my relationship with Elena Asimov."
"Haha, I can't deny that. I saw the two of you in your movie... You were both absolutely beautiful."
Hearing Michael Jackson say he had watched his movie made Sion's heart flutter with an intense rush of pride.
"But for me, my favorite movie of yours was Deadly Summer Camp."
"...Why on earth?"
For a split second, Sion's professional mask slipped, and his genuine bewilderment leaked out.
"In that film, you and Elena were... how should I put it? You felt so much like a 'boy' and a 'girl.' It was as if two innocent children had been dropped onto a set without knowing any better. When I watch movies, I don't just see the film itself; I see the actors behind it, overlapping with their characters."
"I-Is that so?"
"Ah, I don't mean to say that your recent film, Fragments of You, was bad. It's just that the raw, youthful innocence preserved in Deadly appeals to me in a very interesting way."
Sion managed to nod, barely processing the explanation.
"...I see."
Actually, he didn't understand it at all.
But seriously, of all things, Deadly Summer Camp...?
Perhaps this was what it meant to be a genius.
A few days passed. During their stay in London, Sion occasionally met with Michael in the lounge bar to chat. Of course, they didn't just talk.
In the rented-out bar, the two of them engaged in activities that the hotel staff found utterly baffling.
One day, Sion pulled out a tabletop boxing toy from his bag, where two plastic figures faced off to punch each other, and the two of them played with it for hours.
"Take that! And that!"
"You need to focus on your defense, Michael!"
"Argh! I'm dead! Hahaha!"
Though Michael had initially found Sion a bit difficult and awkward to approach, he was now laughing more and more.
At times, they also fell into deep, passionate discussions.
"To be honest, looking back at my past acting makes me cringe. I don't think I could ever act like that again even if I tried. But... hearing you talk about it, Michael, makes me feel like even the acting I did back then had its own meaning..."
"Haha, see?! I told you! Deadly is a masterpiece!"
Meanwhile, preparations for the concert at Wembley Stadium proceeded smoothly. Similarly, Sion's documentary shoot was also coming together.
During the day, Sion followed his schedule, scouting locations and planning the shoot with the production crew. Michael Jackson made television appearances, whipping the concert hype into a frenzy.
As the days ticked down toward the big event, their nightly conversations grew longer, until finally, the eve of the concert arrived.
"Tomorrow's the big day," Sion said.
Sitting across from him, Michael nodded, looking even more exhausted than usual.
"I'm looking forward to it. Meeting the fans in London."
"Shouldn't you get some sleep?"
"Even if I lie down, I won't be able to sleep. My medication hasn't been working well lately."
"...That must be tough."
"Still, I'm happy." Michael smiled gently. "To think that my 'expression' can stimulate the world like this."
Those words seemed to encapsulate the very essence of Michael Jackson. He was like a pure boy who possessed a genius artistic gift. He spoke of love and peace like a child, yet the provocative songs he released in between captured raw, unfiltered human nature rather than hiding behind polite pretenses.
He communicated with the world by expressing himself through music, sending the entire globe into a frenzy.
But the world refused to leave such a genius in peace.
I won't let it happen this time.
What had started as mere sympathy and a strategic move to ensure the success of his project had evolved. Spending time with this beautiful soul had made Sion's resolve entirely genuine.
...Never again.
Steeling his resolve once more, Sion spoke slowly.
"I hope your songs echo across all of London tomorrow. All the way to the children's hospital nearby."
"...A children's hospital?" Michael's eyes widened.
"Yes. I'm planning to drop by during my shooting schedule to bring some hope to the sick kids."
Sion's casual remark struck a deep chord in Michael's heart.
Michael. You just need to remain exactly as you are.
This was the first step of his operation to shield the man from the false child abuse allegations that would otherwise destroy him. The plan was to reinforce and elevate Michael's image as a truly "pure" lover of children, far beyond what it currently was.