Penname: pultrite [Contact] Real name:
Member Since: Jul 10, 2018
Membership status: Member
Bio:



 


 "they treat me like a machine,
a contraption free from emotion,
but, god, all i ever do is feel. "

 



- i am the pain in my mind and the despair in my heart // k.s. 




Beta-reader: No
Gender: Gender Fluid
Age: 18-21
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Stories by pultrite
Summary:

Most entertainers put out a show, an illusion, a façade. If you’re lucky, some are okay with opening up to their fans in the most emotional way. Yet it’s still safe to say that the way someone may act on stage may not be how they always are in private.

Sonja realized this the wretched way, as she allowed Michael’s trembling body to cling to her for dear life. His tears hot and sticking to her skin, curls splayed, and clothes wrinkled. This was a side so unlike anything else, a pallid vulnerability that he allowed only her to see.  


“I wouldn’t betray you like that. You don’t deserve that kind of hatred.”

 

 

A girl can dream, that’s the one thing this broken, soul-grabbing, city couldn’t take from you.

Though, Sonja Carter’s dreams never involved meeting Michael Jackson, especially hiding the poor guy in her small apartment from rampant fangirls. They just consisted of parties littered with drinks and drugs, some good ol’ carnal nights, and a plethora of good-looking things.

It was an odd encounter so one could say fate had intertwined the two. Possibly for love or possibly for heartbreak and horrid knowings.


And since the world was filled with more sin than hell itself, you could heavily argue the latter.

 


Categories: Bad: 1986-1990, Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Characters: Michael, Original Girl
General Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Mild Violence, Nudity, Some Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Some Scenes of an Explicit Sexual Nature, Strong Language
Trigger Warnings: Drug Abuse
Series: None
Chapters: 9 Table of Contents
Completed: No Word count: 44654 Read Count: 1013
[Report This] Published: Jul 29, 2018 Updated: Dec 10, 2018