True to their promise, everyday from that July to well into the next month, Michael crept away from rehearsal at about the same time everyday and went down to the main halls, behind the door, down the steep, gray stairs, and rushed through the narrow hall to the very last door in the middle. Sara eventually came to expect him, and took to setting a chair close to her work table in the early morning when she came in. For the hour a day they were together, they spoke of so many things, but surprisingly enough, the story of the Shadow Princess would not come up again for quite some time. Of course they always meant to start it again, but amongst all the other questions and stories of the past they were distracted with, there simply wasn't enough time to fit it all in.

In those weeks, both Sara and Michael learned more and more about each other. Soon, Sara could recite all of his favorite memories and places by heart, and Michael could recount a list of Sara's favorite books in order, forwards and backwards. Michael learned just what made Sara laugh and tried his best to do just that, as he'd grown to love her laughter. And Sara learned what subjects made him smile, and which one's made him really think, and tried to keep their conversation on that. When the hour finally drew to its close, he'd get up and rush to the door, but always turn around and look back with a smile on his face. He always nodded, and somehow that always made Sara's cheeks turn pink and she'd smiled back at him before he turned again and went back to rehearsal. And so, this was how they went on.

"Well, you sure know how to pick'em don't you?" Josh asked one day when he was down in the sewing room with Sara. She'd just told him that she'd been expecting Michael when he walked in, and now her cheeks were pink, this time from embarrassment.

"What do you mean?" she asked. Josh rolled his eyes and a knowing smile came to his face.

"Out of all the boys you could've picked to crush on, you choose Michael Jackson. Can't say I blame you much for that, he's cute, and he's seems nice enough too. But even better then that, you've got him coming back everyday just to see you. Not bad for a girl that's never flirted a day in her life at the school of hell," he said, moving the fabric on the table. Sara felt her cheeks flush up again and stood to move the fabric to the next table.

"We're friends, Josh, nothing more than that. And it was my idea for him to come down, to finish the story, although there hasn't been much time for that lately," she admitted. Josh smirked and leaned against the chair.

"Exactly my point," he said, smiling. "Been too busy asking about each other I bet."

"It's not like that at all. Yes, we've been asking questions, but only to get to know each other a little bit better, that's all," she said.

"So has he got a girlfriend or what? That should've been the first question you asked," he pried. Sara rolled her eyes.

"I don't know, but even he does, that's his business. We're friends!" she said, folding the fabric.

He scoffed, and sat backwards in the chair in front of him. "Well, I guess I'll just have to do some digging around for the both of us, since you won't flat out ask, and I'm curious myself. He's definitely a good catch, so it'd be surprising if he didn't have a girlfriend. But not at all surprising that he'd keep her a secret. He seems like he could hide a relationship and get away with it. But if that's the case he has no right to talk to you and..." Josh rambled away and Sara, eventually tuned him out and focused more on her own thoughts. After what seemed like hours of thinking and Josh's faraway voice, one loud knock followed by two, small taps broke Sara's train of thought and silenced Josh.

"What's that?" he asked, staring suspiciously at the door. Sara's face lit up as she dropped the fabric and rushed to the door. She turned her head to Josh and lifted her hand to wood.

"That knock means "I'm here"" she said. She knocked against her side of the door then tapped against it softly three times.

"That one means "All's clear"" she said, and leaned against the wall to listen. When she heard another knock and four small taps she laughed and finally opened the door. Michael walked in with a smile on his face, but it quickly fell when he saw Josh staring back at him. Sara closed the door and he turned to face her with a nervous, confused look on his face.

Before Sara could say anything, Josh stood up and moved closer to them, heading for the door. Sara smiled and stepped forward, stopping him, and gestured between the two of them.

"Michael, this is my friend Josh. Josh this is Michael," she said in a hurry. Both the boys nodded to each other and Michael forced a smile, while all the while feeling as though someone had hit him.

Josh didn't smile back, but instead crossed his arms and surveyed him up and down. Michael couldn't think of anything else to do but stand perfectly still and looked to Sara for a sign of what to say next. But Sara was just as clueless as he was and she stared at Josh, wondering what on earth he was up too.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Josh fixed his eyes on Michael's and nodded again, as if he approved of what he saw.

"Nice to meet you," he said, unfolding his arms and shoving his hands into his pockets.

He cocked his head to the side and chuckled as his eyes went up and down his body again.

"You look exhausted, " he finally said. "All the noise from that party last night keep you up too?"

Michael looked surprised, and nodded slowly, giving Josh another questioning look. He had been kept up all night by the noise of music from a condo above his, but how did he know that?

Sara smiled at Josh and Josh shook his head. "I can't imagine wanting to have a party until two in the morning on a Tuesday night, but I guess everybody's got ways to get their kicks. Better not happen again though or I'm going down the hall to ring Joey's neck. They live on my floor, so it was loudest up there."

"You live in Sutton Place?" Michael asked, still confused. Josh nodded and shrugged his shoulders, as though it was no big deal.

"Yeah, I've been there for three years now. My dad pays the rent while I live here and work and try to make a way in the city," he said.

"Where's your dad?" Michael asked.

"In Italy, with my brother and sister. I lived there for most of my life, and it's really nice, but there's just not enough going on in the countryside where our place is. My dad wasn't exactly sorry to see me go either," he said casually. At the mention of his family, Michael felt a small knot in his chest forming. He couldn't help but think of his own family, and their less then perfect choices.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, feeling the knot grow bigger. Josh shrugged his shoulders again and smiled.

"Don't be. The feeling's between us are mutual, believe me, but it's alright. I wanted to get away, and Daddy Dear pays for my place to stay, or rather pays for me to stay away. The condo's nice and upscale, something I could've never afforded on my own at my age, and I get to do what I love, make music. I'd say that's not such bad luck," he explained. He stepped forward and moved past Michael to the door.

"I've got to go, back to rehearsals before Quincy takes it into his head to have a word with Sydney and have me fired. See you guys later." And at that, Josh opened the door and walked out leaving Sara to move forward and close it behind him. Michael slowly sat in the chair close to the fabric and stared at the ground, thinking of what Josh had said. Sara came to join him in the chair closest to him and immediately picked up the fabric and began to prepare the machine.

"He seems nice," he said, turning to face Sara. He wanted to ask more questions about him and his life, but knew it wasn't his place to ask so he just stared at Sara with a strange, confused look. Sara knew from his look he was curious so she sighed and shook her head while threading the machine.

"I think some people just aren't meant to be together, but sometimes certain situations stick them that way. Josh and his father are two of those people. As far as I know, Josh is the baby of six kids, he's got three brothers, and two sisters, and I can't imagine it was easy for his father, bringing up the six of them on his own," she explained.

"But where's his mother?" he asked. Sara shook her head.

"Gone.  I guess she liked that life of hopping from place to place and person to person better then being a wife and mother. She left a few years after Josh was born, and he hasn't seen her since. I think her name was Pauline," she said.

"Oh," Michael couldn't imagine a mother ever just walking out on her family. Perhaps a father, but never a mother. The very idea of it seemed almost impossible to him, yet Sara said it was so.

"Yes, it's not the best way to start off a life. But Josh's father did all that he could. He never married again, so the children were solely in his care. Despite the complications of raising such a large family, he managed to be very successful and rich. Josh himself said that anything they ever needed or wanted as children, they had or got immediately. They had a beautiful villa out in the country, and people to cook and clean and handle the estate for them. They all went to the very best schools. I guess, on the outside, it seemed like a very charming life."

"What happened between them then?" he asked.

"Well, like I said before, I believe some people just aren't suited for others. Josh likes very much to go whichever way the wind blows. He likes to go out, explore, and see everything that he can of the world, and always has I imagine. The way Josh describes him, his father isn't like that at all. Though he loves his children, he never let them stray too far from home, except for school. Josh says they never had any time to themselves, and if they even thought of going somewhere without him, they'd be punished. He says they got into quite a few heated arguments as he grew up, but when he was fifteen, he just couldn't take the smothering anymore. He'd saved up money from performances he did with his piano, and bought a ticket to America. Of course, it wasn't long before his father came running after him, and he wasn't too hard to find. They argued again, and Josh refused to come home, so finally his father said he'd rather not have him home at all. That if he wanted to stay, he could, but that he wasn't welcome to back home."

"But, then why does he pay the rent for him to live in that condo?" he asked.

"Because he loves Josh, nothing will ever change that. And I guess he knew he'd be hurt, living in the streets of New York alone. So he makes sure he has a place to stay, a nice one. And, personally, I think that's his way of saying that he only wants the best for Josh and, ultimately, for him to be happy." Michael rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, looking away from Sara.

"Yeah right. If you ask me, it sounds just like what Josh said, he pays to keep him away. Why be bothered with him when it's just easier to send him away? It's awful! But I guess parent's, especially fathers, can be cruel sometimes," he said. Sara stared at him, unable to think of a reply and sensing there was a horrible reason he would say something like that.

"I guess, but I just don't feel that way. I think that parents can be mean, but ultimately most, maybe not all, really do love their kids," she said.

"Sure they do," he muttered and brushed off the comment. "So, wait. While all this was happening, didn't his brothers or sisters try to say anything, to stop it?"

Sara sighed and stopped her work. She bit her bottom lip and looked at the floor, nervous.

"Josh's two oldest brothers are dead," she said, and his eyes grew wide from the shock. "His oldest brother, and the oldest of all of them, fell off of a horse shortly after Josh left and the fall and the way he landed snapped his neck. His second brother, and the second oldest, died a few years later. He was really sick, and I can't remember exactly what it was called that killed him. I remember when Josh went back for his funeral though. His oldest sister, and the third oldest, died only a few months ago, but Josh doesn't know quite what happened to her. He went back to Italy for her funeral too. Right now, it's only the fourth and fifth, a brother and another sister, and Josh that are still alive."

"That's terrible," he mumbled, feeling the knot return to his chest. Sara nodded, feeling a tightness in her own chest.

"I know, but he doesn't seem to think so. He says none of them were ever very close, in fact he flat out says he didn't like any of his brothers, or his sister that died. Sometimes I wonder if he went back because he wanted to be there, or if he only went because he felt like he was supposed to," she said.

An uncomfortable silence settled on the room again, but Sara soon brushed off the eerie mood with a small smile and picked up the fabric again.

"I'm sorry," she started. "You seemed so happy when you came down here, and all this must have put you in a sour mood. What was it you were smiling about when you came down here?" Michael immediately gave her a small smile and tried to put Josh's story in the back of his mind.

"I've been in a great mood since last night actually," he said. "I talked to my mother, and she's coming, with my brothers and my little sister, to New York next week. They want to see the set and there's going to be this big party at Studio 54 for the album me and my brother's are releasing. It'll be a lot of fun, but I'm just so glad they're coming!"

"You sound like it," Sara said, smiling. "You must miss them since you've moved here."

He nodded and smiled back at her. "I've missed them all so much! I didn't think I'd be nearly as homesick as I am."

"But didn't you used to go on tour for months at a time when you were younger?" she asked. He nodded again and began fiddling with his fingers.

"I did, but I always had my brothers with me to keep me company, even though our mother couldn't be there," he said. Then he stopped and looked away from her, embarrassed.

"I know this might sound a little strange, but this is the first time in my life I've really been away from home without them. I've got my sister, Latoya with me, so it's not like I'm completely alone, but...it just feels so different without everybody. When you're getting up in our house, there's always so much noise, people talking, the washing machine going, the clinking of dishes, the TV, the radio, the animals, and just everything mixed up together. Here, there's still the sounds of the TV and Latoya if she's washing a few dishes, but other then that it's really quiet. It's kind of weird really."

"I guess so, if that's what you're used too. Where I live, it's practically silent when you wake up in the morning. There's no TV's, no sounds of anybody else living there at all," she said.

Michael made a face and shook his head. "I can't imagine waking up like that everyday! It sounds creepy. I like to hear the noise to know everyone else is around me."

"I bet it's nicer that way for sure. So, exactly how many brother's and sisters do you have? I'd heard you mention them, but I've lost count," she laughed.

"There's nine of us all together. I've got five brothers and three sisters. But only four brothers and one sister are coming this way. My oldest sister, Rebbie, doesn't stray too far from home too often. She's more of a homebody, and she's got her own kids to take care of too," he explained.

"What about your other brother?" she asked. She immediately saw him glance the other way and shift uncomfortably in the chair.

"Jermaine...things are...he's not always around, much..." he said, tapping his fingers against the table nervously. Sara quickly got the hint and changed the subject.

"So, you're sister that came here with you, Latoya, you must be really close if she came from California to be here with you for so long."

Michael smiled and nodded. "Yeah, we are. She drives me crazy with how nit picky she is though! Everytime I leave anything on the counter, on the bed, anywhere, she comes in and picks it up. She likes everything to be neat and organized all the time, which I guess is okay, but I kind of like a little clutter. If a place is just too clean, it feels like no one ever lives there. But other then that, we get along about most everything else. When we're together, we can always talk about just about anything."

"That's nice to have that closeness with a sister," she said, smiling at the thought of it.

"Yeah it is. I really miss my brother Marlon and my sister Janet, though. I can tell Marlon anything too, and he's not so organized as Latoya. He leaves stuff everywhere just to make her mad at home! And he's just a lot of fun to be around. I guess we're closer because we're the closest in age, he's only a year older then me, so it's always been easy to be close. We did almost everything at the same time growing up. And me and Janet just like a lot of the same things. We like a lot of the same movies, same books, the same shows on TV. And we can plan out lists of stuff to do for days without ever getting bored! I mean, I'm not saying I don't miss all of my family, because I do, but I guess it's the little things like that, that you never really think of until you're not doing them everyday anymore," he said, staring past Sara and at the wall.

She could tell from the faraway sound of his voice that he really loved them, more then anything else in the world and immediately she felt her hands go numb and a tightness grip her chest. She felt sorry for him, but not only that. She felt sorry for herself, as she'd never experienced even a small portion of the kind of bond he spoke of.

"That sounds nice. You must be eager to get back to it, once all this is over," she mumbled, looking down and at the fabric, careful to avoid his gaze. He broke his stare and looked back at her, sensing her sudden change of mood.

"Well, I guess so," he said, softly. "Do you have brothers and sisters?"

Sara flinched at first from his question, then slowly shook her head.

"None. I'm an only child. So, I often spent my time wishing I had eight brothers and sisters," she said, solemnly.

"An only child? I can't even begin to imagine what that's like. I've always shared things nine ways. But I guess it must have its perks; whenever you wanted your mother's attention, I'm sure you got it, didn't you?" he joked.

To his dismay, Sara didn't laugh, smile, or even glance his way. She continued to fold the fabric and twist the strange knobs on the machine, and to him, she seemed to grow paler.

"Believe me, it's not quite what you'd think it'd be. I think my parent's wanted to have more children, but they just...didn't get around to it I suppose," she said.

"Oh," he said, feeling his own spirits fall as a million different thoughts raced through his mind at once. Thankfully, he didn't have much time to dwindle on those thoughts, for soon Sara raised her head and the color came back to her cheeks quickly. She forced a small smile and moved forward and sat in the chair close to him. He watched her reach up and gently move a small chain from her underneath her collar. She tucked the small, circular piece of the necklace in hand and dropped it, into his outstretched hand, and watched as he turned it over and over again in his fingers.

The front was a small, compass. The tiny golden arrow spun every way as he moved and twisted the circle around. The small, painted black and red letters stood out against the ivory background. On the back, a miniature version of the globe was carefully painted. The bright green of the continents and the deep blue of the oceans shone, even under the dim light. The smile returned to Michael's face as he turned it over again and again.

Sara's smile grew bigger and she leaned forward, a few black curls falling around her face.

"There were some, small benefits of being an only child. My parents traveled a lot, and often times they took me with them and bought me nice, quite extraordinary presents while we were away. This was of them, my mother bought it when we were in a small store out somewhere, I can't exactly remember where. But whenever we were home, she'd take it off my neck and hold it out to see where the spinning arrow would stop. Then, once we knew the direction, she'd go to a large map we had that hung on the wall and point to a country that was in that particular direction. She would tell me all about that place, the people that lived there, the animals, the food, the clothes, and any of the old stories and legends they had there. She studied up on countries and people, that's what she loved to do. And she'd tell me, that as long as I had my compass with the world on its back, I could think of all the amazing places there were, and the stories there, and I pretend I was there, seeing it all." Sara stopped and caught herself, before she divulged too much into her history.

"But, I guess that sounds sort of silly doesn't it?" she mumbled. Michael looked up at her and shook his head, then looked back at the necklace.

"I don't think it's silly at all! That sounds wonderful! I wish I had something like this," he said.

"Do you really?" Sara asked, surprised. He nodded.

"Yes, I've never seen anything like it before. I wish that-" He started then stopped at the sound of the door opening. Both of them turned to look and instantly recognized the petite figure walking into the room. She closed the door behind her and forced a smile onto her face, though she felt like screaming.

"Hey Steph, what are you doing down here?" Michael asked.

"Looking for you, I just thought I'd let you know they'll want you back for rehearsal soon," she said, staring past his shoulder and at Sara. Sara kept her eyes glued to the wall behind her and fiddled with her fingers.

"I've only been gone for about forty five minutes though," he said, standing, "I haven't been late for over a month, since that day Sydney yelled at me."

"I know, but I just wanted to find you, is that so wrong?" she said, smiling. Michael smiled back and touched her shoulder. Stephanie took a quick glance around the room and looked at him.

"So, this is where you've been going everyday for the past couple of weeks?" she asked.

"Yes. Steph you remember Sara right?" he said, gesturing towards her. Sara stood immediately, as she was taught to do. She nodded and smiled at her and Stephanie forced another, small smile on her face.

"Yeah, we've met before," she said, then turned to Michael again. "I was really looking for you to ask you something. You're coming to Studio 54 next Friday, right?" she asked. Michael bit his lip and shoved his hands into his pockets while trying to avoid her gaze.

"Well...maybe, I'm still thinking about it..."

Michael! You've got to go out that night, it's your birthday! You're turning 19, your family will be here, let's celebrate a little!" she said, smiling. Still, Michael looked uncomfortable.

"I don't know Stephanie, I don't exactly do big parties, not for birthdays, it's just that-"

"Look, it's your birthday, we're going out, and we're going to have a good time. You've been working so hard lately, you need to kick back and party! Okay?" she said, pulling at his arm. Sara stared at the both of them, feeling invisible, but curious as to what they were talking about.

"It's your birthday next Friday?" Sara asked in a voice close to a whisper. Michael looked her way and nodded.

"Yes, August 29th," he said, and looked back at Stephanie again. "But really, Steph, it's not that big of a deal. And, I should've said so sooner, but I've got to tell you that I-"

"Stop making excuses!" she interrupted. "You need a break, and that night is the perfect time for one." Michael wanted to say more, to explain things to her, but saw it was little use trying to do so then, so he sighed and looked away, shuffling his feet beneath him. Stephanie smiled at him and tugged at his arm again, making him smile.

"Look, Sydney will be looking for you soon, you'd better not keep him waiting," she said. Michael looked back at Sara and saw that she shrugged her shoulders and nodded toward the door, indicating that he should probably go. He nodded back at her and smiled, knowing she understood, then turned back to Stephanie.

"You're right, I probably should go back up. I'll see you tomorrow Sara," he waved, and walked slowly to the door and down the hall to the stairway. Sara waved back and turned to her table, ready to resume working. But the expected silence of an empty room didn't come, because Sara was not alone in her room.

"So, tell me Sara, how did you come by this job?" Stephanie leaned against the wall, crossed her arms and glared at her from her spot near the door. Sara looked at her for what seemed like forever before bending her head over her work again.

"Why does it matter?" she muttered.

"I was just curious is all," she said, twisting a loose strand of hair between her fingers. "It's not very common to see someone as young as either of us working in costuming."

"Miss Ella, I've known her for a while, thought I could be of some help to her, and she convinced them to give me place here," Sara said, trying hard to keep her eyes off her and on her sewing.

"Oh, I see. Well, that does make things much easier doesn't it? When you know someone already on a set that is," she said, and Sara felt her cheeks redden. From that, she gathered Stephanie accused her of being a leach, and not really working to keep her job as a costumer. Still, Sara bit her tongue and said nothing, but instead continued to work.

"Michael seems happy to have you here," she persisted, stepping forward. "You two have become fast friends. You, do consider him a friend don' t you?"

"I do," Sara answered. "He's kind, and very sweet. We always have something to talk about when we're together."

"It's nice to have friends. It's nicer though, to have a boyfriend. Someone that only has eyes for you, and tells you so everyday. Someone to go out with on the weekends. Someone to do some of the "best things" in life with," she said, dreamily. "I've got my eyes on someone, and he'll be mine soon...very soon."

Sara began to feel the tension building between them, but still refused to look at her. Stephanie continued on, moving closer and closer to Sara.

"We've been dating for a while now, and I know he'll ask me soon, I'm just sure of it. When we're together, there's just this....spark. This indescribable sort of chemistry and connection between us. He makes me feel like I'm the only girl in the world when we're alone together, though I have to say that doesn't happen too often anymore. You see, he's perfect in a lot of ways, but he's got one big flaw," she said.

"And what's that?" Sara asked.

"He gets distracted too easily. He's not always focused on what's best for him, and lately, he's been very, very distracted," she said, lowering her voice. "But that's alright. Once we're official, I'll be able to take care of that."

"What does that mean?" Sara asked slowly, setting down the fabric.

Stephanie moved close to her, sat down beside, and stared hard into her eyes.

"It means that my man can't have any distractions. Not when he's with me. And if I have too, I'll just have to get rid of the distraction. And it wouldn't be hard to do either. Pull a few strings here and rearrange a few more, and you'd be surprised how fast a problem goes away," she glowered. Sara stared back at her, knowing full well what she meant and how she meant to do it, but unable to understand why she felt this way.

"Do you understand now Sara?" she asked. Sara continued to stare in silence, and finally nodded slowly.

"Perfectly."

"Good," she said, and smiled smugly. She bounced up and nearly skipped to the door.

She glanced back only once at Sara, and caught her staring back at her, and almost instantly she felt a strange chill run up her spine. She turned and hurried out the door and up the stairs, but for the rest of the day the chill stuck with her, as did the emotionless look on Sara's face.

Sara, for her part, continued to stare at the door until long after she was gone, until finally she mustered up the feeling to look away and continue her work.

"I understand perfectly well," she whispered, "But I don't care, and I'm not afraid. "