Chapter 14

Dance Studio B
Paisley Park Studios
Two Hours Later

“...I knew from the start/I loved you with all my heart/But you were untrue/You had another lover, and she looked just like you!/Bambi...!"
I twirled around in front of the large sheet mirror that ran along one wall of the expansive room as the song continued to blare over the loud speakers hanging in all four corners, music being fed to them from a large stereo on the back wall.
My moves, on the verge of sultry, were slick, clean, precise.
My memory of the lyrics were clear as a summer’s sky, though I hadn’t spent much time poring over the words.
Upon the completion of another spin, I stopped.
Studied myself in the mirror.
I looked pretty good.
Hot, even.

I wore an oversized red t-shirt with a close up of Prince’s face on the front in black and white and his symbol on the back. With the shirt I wore stretchy black short shorts and black strappy shoes.
The shoes were kind of a departure from my usual dancing shoes. I was more at home in sneakers as opposed to stilettos, but I was sure I’d be performing in heels.
My hair, still in loose curls were pulled back and out the way in a ponytail.
But even though I was extremely dressed down and casual to almost the point of boredom, an hour long meet up with Mindy resulted in my wearing my usual mask of cosmetics.
As the chorus to the song ended and the second verse began to play, I went back to my movements, singing along and trying to imagine what it would be like to be up on the stage full live sound enveloping us, Prince leading the way with a fiery guitar solo.

Thoughts of Prince performing along side me fueled me to jump of the edge of sexuality and I began to contort and twist my body in seductive ways, my eyes batting and the effort was paying off.
Prince was right: I was sexy.
Bambi segued off into another raunchy tune, Sexy M. F.
I had to admit, I was thoroughly enjoying the music, even though some of the themes were truly taboo.
Maybe that’s why I liked Prince’s songs so much--there unlike anything I had heard before.
Prince was being himself in his music and not apologizing for it.
He was just so frank and curt…
“…you sexy motherfucker…”
“Hot damn! Miss Brynn, you’re cutting loose like a goose!”
I misstepped at the sudden shout and nearly tripped.
Looking at the reflection at the mirror, I saw that a familiar figure hung in the doorway.
“Hi Morris.” I sighed placing my hands on my hips and turning to face him.
Morris gave me a wide smile, his large eyes bulging.
He wore an deep grey Zoot suit over a white shirt and a skinny red tie. Matching Stacy Adams covered his feet.
“So whatcha doing in here?” Morris sauntered over to me, the hinged door closing silently behind him.
“Nothing much, just tossing together some moves for the jam on Friday.” I shrugged.
“Yes.” Morris looked me up and down, eyes ever widening. “I caught part of that little dance. Not bad…nope, not bad at all.”
“What are you doing here?” I wondered quietly.
“Oh, Prince and I were chatting about who to have come play. Little things.” Morris nodded and made his way over to small seating area near the stereo system. (It was just a couple of overstuffed green couches.)
“Will you tell me who’s playing?” I asked following him and shutting the music off.
“Nah, brother distinctly told me not to tell you. A-Ha!” Morris chortled.
“You’re no good!” I giggled sitting on the arm of the couch.
“Hey what can I say?” Morris threw his hands up.
He glanced at me. “Do you dance professionally?” He muttered.
“No, I am strictly a singer by profession…why?” I cracked my knuckles.
“Oh nothing, just that you have the legs of a dancer. Nice and pretty. Always thought you had nice legs.” Morris nodded solemnly.
“Yeah, thanks.” I started to get an inkling that Morris was trying hit on me.
My beliefs were confirmed when Morris reached over and placed his hand on my knee.
“Your legs are so toned, damn.” Morris mumbled and ran his fingers up, across my thigh.
“Stop it.” I knocked his hand away.
“Oh come on. Get loose.” Morris urged in a whisper, giving me a sleepy, half lidded look.
“Um, no thanks, I got things to do. Dancing to catch up on.” I started to get up. Something was telling me to get away from this fashion challenged man.
“Now wait a minute…” Morris grabbed onto my wrist. “Can’t you spare five minutes to make a man happy?” He pursed his mouth and brought my hand to his lips, pecking it gently.
“Cut it out Morris!” I tried to jerk my hand away.
Morris tightened his grip on my wrist with a crushing power.
“Don’t you like me? Don’t you think I’m a good looking man?” Morris asked quietly, looking up at me, his eyes once again widening with faux innocence.
“Let go of me Morris!” I grunted struggling to pull myself away so hard that I was almost squatting.
“I think you’re a fine woman…so young and springy and fine.” Morris cooed, dragging me closer to him.
With my free hand, I tried to pry his hand off my wrist.
I even dug my nails into Morris’ hand. I could see droplets of blood springing up around my nails.
Morris seemed unaffected.
“Let go! I’ll scream!” I warned.
“You won’t.” Morris spoke softly and pulled me around the edge of the couch so that I faced him directly.
Morris reached up and placed his other hand on my hip. “AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!”
My shriek rang out and echoed throughout the room and caught Morris so off-guard that he actually pushed me away.
In the huff, I tripped over my own feet and landed on my side on the polished hardwood floor.
“I can’t believe you screamed!” Morris announced in a shocked voice.
“Damn it! I told you I would!” I gasped, trying to regain the wind that had been knocked out of me.
“What’s going on in here?” A new voice asked.
I looked over and saw that Prince was hanging in the doorway.
He looked like an angel in head-to-toe white. From his thick cashmere sweater and matching slacks to the white framed Versace sunglasses he wore covering his eyes.
A white gold NPG pendant swung at his waist.
“What are you doing on the floor? Did you scream?” Prince moved lightening fast across the room and crouched at my side on one knee.
“Yeah, I did.” I replied as Prince helped me into a seated position.
I gave Morris, still seated, a deadly stare.
“Morris, you let Brynn fall on the floor and didn’t help her up?” Prince’s face went blank and he stared at his “friend”.
“Well, man she went down so fast. I hardly had time to react.” Morris tossed his head and rolled his eyes. I knew he was trying to play off what had happened.
“Still, you should have helped her.” Prince’s voice dropped and I could tell he was stewing. He probably would have skewered Morris if he had known what was really happening.
“Are you okay?” Prince tilted his shades and looked over them at me, his hazel eyes flashing with concern.
“Yeah, just banged my wrist a little on the way down.” I held up my right wrist. The impression of Morris’ fingers were visible on it.
I saw one of Prince’s immaculate eyebrows raise quizzically.
“Damn.” He cradled my wrist and kissed on it. “Is that all you hurt, Pretty Baby?” He wondered.
“Yes Prince.” I smiled up at him, thankful that he had intervened.
“Gimme a little something.” Prince tapped his cheek with his fingers, once again indicating he wanted a kiss.
Wanting to one up Morris and make sure that the lines were clearly drawn in solid concrete, I leaned past Prince’s waiting cheek and pressed my lips against his.
Prince seemed a little surprised, and I didn’t blame him, it was the first time I had “pursued” him.
I grabbed his face with my hands and held in place for several moments, greedily smacking and sucking on his lips.
I peeked back at Morris as I kissed Prince; he was ashen, and looked miserable.
Brimming on the verge of arrogance, I pulled my lips from Prince and leaned back.
Prince was clearly taken, his face reddening. He chuckled deeply and rubbed his chin.
“You’re a little bit of something else.” He finally said and wrapping his arm around me, helped me to my feet.
“I know you’re busy, but I was wondering if you wanted something to eat. It’s about time for lunch.” Prince dropped his hand to my hip, the same spot Morris had touched and squeezed it gently.

“Sure.” I winked at him.
“Juan-Carlos made us a little something.” Prince led me to the door.
He stopped and glimpsed back at Morris,
“You coming?” He asked.
“Nah, nah, man, got no appetite.” Morris mumbled from behind us.
“Fine.” With that Prince escorted me out the room.

* * *

Prince’s Office
Paisley Park Studios

“This is yummy.” I giggled, spooning a thin broth into my mouth. “What exactly is this?”

Almost all the meals I partook of with Prince were vegetarian and I had a hard time determining what I was eating.
“It’s a bell pepper reduction. It’s supposed to be eaten cold, but I can’t stand it cold. I hope you don’t mind it hot.” Prince said quietly from where he sat on the other side of his large white lacquer L-shaped desk.
The entire room was done in white. Behind him was a big window and like in the Game Room it consisted of dozens of glass blocks that distorted the image behind them. Even his computer, off to the side of the desk was white.
“I like it. It’s good.” I nodded, eating more. “Did the bell peppers come from the greenhouse too?”
“Yes…” Prince trailed off as he ate a spoonful of his own soup.
“Tell me something Brynn.” He leaned forward across the desk, his leather chair squeaking.

“Did Morris come onto you in the dance studio?” His voice chilled the air.
“Um…” I looked down into my bowl as if it were the most interesting thing on the planet.
“Did he?” Prince repeated.
“Yeah…he did.” I said meekly. I waited for the fireworks to start.
“Do you like Morris?” Prince pushed.
“Not like that…I can tolerate him.” I continued to gaze into my bowl.
“Hmm…” Prince appeared to ponder my response. “Morris comes onto anything with a pulse, don’t worry about it, I think you kind of gave him the message you didn’t want him. Trying to suck my lips off. Got one hell of a mouth on you.” Prince laughed.
I chuckled, the mood lightening.

“Oh Brynn, while you were practicing, a phone call came to the front office for you.” He announced pausing to sip from a tall glass of iced fruit punch.
“A call for me? Who was it?” I smiled eating more soup.
I dropped my spoon with a loud plop when Prince replied,
“Michael Jackson.”
I felt my chest tighten. For a scant moment, I wondered if I was having heart failure.
“Michael?” I squeaked, feeling my entire body grow cold and lungs start to collapse.
“Yeah, Michael? Remember him?” Prince chuckled.

I gasped for air. I had forgotten about Michael! My Michael! The man I loved more dearly than life itself.
I looked up at Prince and a new, fresh worry began tearing at my soul. I had slept with Prince!
I had cheated on Michael Jackson!
The one man I had vowed to never cheat on. I had done the horizontal tango and was floating around Prince as freely as if I were his. And I wouldn’t have even been there if it wasn’t for Michael in the first place.
The room seemed to tilt and spin and I grabbed onto the side of the desk trying to keep from fainting away onto the shaggy rug under me.
And I had let it happen. I knew that deep down I had wanted Prince. The little bastard had seduced me.

“What…what did Michael say?” I was breathless.
“All the man said was that he tried to call your little cell phone and you didn’t answer it.” Prince leaned his cheek against his fist, a large grin covering his face.
I had left my phone in my room when Prince had carried me off to his room.
Like I really had the time to stop him and grab it anyway.
“Mumbled some shit about sending you a special gift on Friday. I think it’s dumb as hell to send something on Friday since you go back to California on Saturday.” Prince took off his sunglasses and set them on the desk, eyes fully rolling.
“And what did you tell him?” I tried to regain my composure but everything I spoke was weak as dishwater. I was certain that Prince had shot off at the mouth and told Michael about our tryst and that Michael was probably en route to beat me bloody.
“Just that you were rehearsing.” Prince continued to grin, a shifty glint to his eyes.
“Yeah…I was tempted to tell him I had you screaming my name to high heaven last night, but I stopped myself. That shit ain’t classy at all.” Prince flicked his head, a few strands of hair falling across his forehead.
“You…you didn’t tell him? About what happened?” I was truly shocked. I just couldn’t imagine that Prince hadn’t gloated. I dropped my head, a rush of emotions overwhelming me.
Fear, despair…
“No…” Prince pushed his bowl away and stood.
“But I still can’t believe that you fucked Michael Jackson!” Prince exclaimed started laughing. A loud, mind numbing whine.
“I can’t get over that. I bet I screwed rings around him last night.” Prince continued walking around the desk to me.
I looked up at him, my heart tearing.
“Is that all you think of me as? A competition with Michael? Another notch on your belt? Do you even think of me as a person?” I whispered, hurt and anger emerging. “Do you hear yourself? ‘I bet I screwed rings around him last night’?’ I climbed to my feet fists curled.
Prince stood, plain-faced. “Brynn…” He started.
“I don’t wanna hear it. I messed up. I should have stopped you last night. When you said you’ve wanted to do me since you first saw me. Should have busted those funny looking balls of yours and left.” I shook my head, my eyes welling with tears, heart twisting in knots.
“Brynn…” Prince began again.
“Leave me alone!” I pointed a finger at him, feeling nothing but a blaring distaste for him. It was stronger than when I had initially met him.
I turned and ran.
“Brynn!” I heard Prince yell after me.
I ran down the two staircases from Prince’s third floor office, past the front ones and out the front doors into the chilly air.
I was so consumed with thoughts that I barely even noticed the cold.
I ran to the end of the driveway and out the gates of Paisley Park.
I started towards Prince’s home with the intent of gathering my things and maybe trying to find a hotel to stay in until I could go home on Saturday.
It was eerily silent on the tree-lined road.
I couldn’t believe myself.
I couldn’t believe that I had been so awful to Michael. That Michael had trusted me with all his heart, loved me with all his heart and I had betrayed him. I felt lower than an amoeba on a flea.
I couldn’t believe that I had let Prince weasel his way around me and into what Michael and I had and take me.
I couldn’t believe I had been so weak, so stupid.
So incredibly, flamingly, alarmingly stupid.
How could I have let myself fall for Prince? Why didn’t I notice? Prince had gone through women like he was Wilt Chamberlain! I should have known better. Two failed marriages and probably dozens of broken relationships to his name.
I looked down and saw Prince’s image looking up at me on my shirt. Watching me.
Even though it was freezing and my breaths were coming out in white clouds, I pulled the shirt off over my head and tossed it on the side of the road, wrapping my arms around my bra and shorts clad body for warmth.
I didn’t want anything to do with Prince.
I knew that I had liked Prince. That I was attracted to him and had followed him around like a trick pony seeking his approval for every little thing.
Oh the things I had done. The dirty, dirty things I had done! The dirty vile things!
How could I even face Michael when I got back to California?
Cold tears fell down my cheeks. I didn’t know what to do.
I knew I probably couldn’t even look at Michael nor even be in the same vicinity with him and keep my sanity.
Damn Prince. How could I let myself be so weak?
As I continued walked, I became aware of a vehicle following me.
Part of me hoped that it was a cop car ready to haul me away for surely looking like a hooker.
But at the moment, I felt that a hooker was more reputable that me.
I looked back and felt a scowl take my face.
It was Prince’s black limousine creeping along.
The car pulled up far enough for the passenger side glass to be even with me.
The window came down and Prince stuck his head out.
“Brynn! Are you crazy? It’s eight degrees out there!” He exclaimed, his words smoky in the frigid atmosphere.
“Maybe I am crazy for fooling with your ass!” I retorted, not in the mood to even look at him.
“Get in this car before you die of exposure! Brynn!” Prince leaned out of the window, reaching for me.

“Like you care! If I die, what are you gonna tell Michael? That you did me and let me die? You’re a true Casanova!” I shook my head and jogged away.
The car sped up and Prince was once again even with me.
“Brynn, if you stop long enough, I want to talk to you!” Prince sounded stern.
“You’ve got nothing to say that I want to hear!” I shouted.
I spotted and thicket of trees and ran off the road into them.
I ran away. I wanted to get lost in the trees. Michael would probably eventually get over me, and to hell with what Prince did.
After a while, I stopped and leaned against a tree, trying to catch my breath.
The cold air stung my lungs and nasal passages.
My legs felt like jelly.
It was then I noticed something white floating around me.
I gazed up; snowflakes were falling.
It was snowing.
I would just stand out there and let the snow cover me and maybe by the next spring someone would find me.
And it would be all over.
The snowflakes began to fall harder.
I felt a hand grip my shoulder.
I spun around quickly to see Prince standing in front of me, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Go away Prince!” I shouted. “Leave me alone or I’ll start screaming ‘rape’! Try me, I swear I will!” I inched back.
“I just want to talk to you. You need to get out of this cold. You’ll get sick.” Prince reached for me.
“I don’t care. Why do you care? If I get sick, you won’t be able to do me anymore?” I taunted still moving back.
“Do you really think that’s all I care about? Just having sex with you? You think I went to all the trouble to write songs and bring you here and go through Michael and Rusty and all that just so I could ‘do’ you?” Prince shook his head.
“You made that pretty damn clear at the orgy den you call a home and studio.” I sniffed, more tears flowing. “It was all just one elaborate scheme.” Prince’s jaw dropped.
I continued. “And I bet you tried to pass me off to Morris. What do you think I am? Some kind of groupie? Some whore you can mess around with until you get tired of me? I’m a person Prince! A person!” A sob erupted from me and I sank to my knees on the cold soil hands to my face crying.
“Brynn!” I felt Prince wrap his arms around me. He struggled to pull my hands from my face.
“Quit it!” I slapped at his face several times. I wanted him to feel some of the pain he had inflicted on me.
After a fruitless fight, he got my hands down and held my face in his hands,
“Look at me. Look at me.” He forced his eyes into mine.
“Haven’t I shown you the best since you’ve gotten here? Given you expensive clothes and jewelry? Taken care of you? Given you a nice warm room and nice food? And treated you the way any good woman should be treated? Aren’t you happy? Don’t I make you happy?” Prince argued continuing to stare at me. “Do you think I would have done all of that if I didn’t care about you?”
“I know what I said came out wrong. I know I said it wrong in the studio and I am man enough to admit it too. Damn it Brynn.” Prince thumbed my tears away.
“Don’t touch me!” I shoved Prince back on to his bottom and his back smacked the tree.
“You probably don’t understand cause all you’ve been around is Michael Jackson and I think he just treats you like his children. You’re an extra child. You just happen to be old enough to perform for him and occasionally go to bed with him.” Prince murmured.
“Damn you--Michael loves me!” I shook my head violently trying to pull free of him.
“Brynn! Don’t you see? Don’t you get it?” Prince questioned.
“What? What don’t I get?” I warbled, struggling to get away from him.
Prince wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against the softness of his sweater.
“Michael’s not the only man who loves you!” He groaned into my ear, rocking me like an infant on the snowcapped ground.
“I love you too!”
I rested against Prince, limp, cold and drained.
He was breathing heavily into my ear.
I wanted to believe him. I desperately wanted to believe him.
I felt something wet land on my bare shoulder.
Another wet drop landed on my shoulder.
I looked up, Prince was staring at me, the whites of his eyes red.
He was crying.
Prince was crying!
The sight of his tear-stained face struck a cord with me.
He was telling the truth.
He was telling the truth!
Prince really did feel something more for me than an animalistic lust.
Prince loved me!
I leaned against him sobbing even harder.
I didn’t know if my tears were from remorse or relief.
* * *An Hour Later
I looked around the bathroom in wonder. In the almost two weeks since I had been at Prince’s house, I had never seen the inside of his bathroom.
I once again felt as though I was in a hotel.
There was a large beige and purple tiled marble washbasin that appeared to be meant for two people. It was split in the middle by an art deco inspired mirrored vanity. Round bulbs glowed in gilded sockets.
On the counter of the basin were several bottles of facial and skin creams and moisturizers and curiously enough, a box of baby wipes. I hoped that Prince used them to strip off his make up as opposed to using them for his bottom.
Across the expansive room was a walk in rain shower that doubled as a steam room. Next to it on a hook hung was what I supposed Prince would wear to bed--a set of red pajamas, trimmed in gold piping. Under them was a pair of red high heeled boots. I wondered if Prince ever wore regular shoes.
Hidden behind a privacy panel near the back of the room, I could make out a commode and bidet, apparently made of marble that matched the floors.
And the symbol was everywhere, on the light fixtures, including a crystal covered one that hung from the ceiling. It wasn’t a chandelier, but just as swanky. There was even a symbol on the soap bar.
“Are you warming up?”
Tearing my eyes from my surroundings, I saw Prince entering the room, another steaming mug in his hands.
“Yeah, I think so…” I answered absent mindedly. I had so many thoughts racing through my head, I thought they’d start dripping out my ears.
Thoughts about what I had done to Michael, what Prince had done to me, what I had done to myself, what I had done to Prince, and on top of that all, the thought and admission that Prince loved me.
It was almost too much to bear.
Prince dropped to his knees on the side of the tub and pressed the mug to my lips.
“Prince, please…” I turned my head, avoiding the cider. “If you keep giving me this stuff, I’ll get drunk.” I whispered.
Prince chuckled. “If you can go through five mugs of this stuff and still see straight, you’re not going to get drunk.”
He poked the mug at my lips again. “Drink it. It’ll make you sleep better later. You need to rest.”
I sighed and took the mug from him and tried to drink quickly. I didn’t really like the cider, it tasted like cinnamon flavored lighter fluid.
Only God knew how much of the drink was rum and how much was cider. The first couple of mugs had made me cough something fierce and scorched my throat, but now by mug six, it was somewhat tolerable.
As I drank, the room fell silent.
I glanced over and saw that Prince was watching me quietly, his eyes seeming to take my entire existence in.
I stared down at the whipping water, more thoughts nagging at me.
“You’re thinking about what happened earlier, aren’t you?” Prince asked softly.
“Yes.” Head still down I held out the mug to him.
He took it away and I heard it clank as it hit the floor.
“And what do you think?” Prince patted my head.
I stared at him, eyes wide.
“You don’t really love me, do you?” I whimpered. I just couldn’t seem to get my mind around the idea. Prince seemed more like the love them and leave them type of person, rather than love for the long haul.
Prince smiled. “Yeah, I do. Why can’t you believe that?” He leaned his cheek against his fist.
I shrugged. “You haven’t known me long enough. Not even two weeks. I mean, that’s a really short time. You can’t just throw the word ‘love’ around like a baseball.” I explained.
Prince chuckled. “You don’t believe in love in first sight? What people have to hang around each other for what? Months? Years? You don’t think it can happen like pow?” He snapped his fingers.
“I don’t think I believe in love at first sight. Lust maybe, but not love.” I poked my toe at a bubble jet.
Prince whistled. “Okay, maybe, it was lust when I first saw you. That dress was banging though. Did you pick that blue number out?’
“No…um, Michael did.” At the mention of Michael’s name, I became nauseous, and wondered if I could make it across the room without puking.
I could only wonder of how Michael would react to everything that had happened. The betrayal. It was a slap in the face to even be in the tub with Prince in the room.
“Ugh, Mike must be a boob man.” Prince stood on his knees.
He reached into my hair and with a few hard tugs, pulled the elastic holding my ponytail out and my hair fell over my shoulders.
Prince’s lavender scent wafted to my nostrils. For some reason, the aroma seemed to relax me and take the sickness I felt away.
“I saw that little light in your eye when you looked at me. Maybe that was lust too?” Prince chuckled toying with my waves.
I felt myself flushing.
“But, I’ve gotten to know you. We’ve talked and I like some of the things you’ve told me. Except I don’t think I have funny looking balls!” Prince’s voice went into a comically high register and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“But aside from that, yeah, I love you. There’s something about you.” Prince grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back so that I looked up at him.
His minty breath blew into my face. “Maybe it’s cause you’re so pretty. Maybe it’s your innocence that keeps me coming back. Maybe I just want to spoil you. And I like spoiling you.”
His eyes searched my face. “Do you love me too?”
Closing my eyes to stop from being drawn into his gaze again, I tried to think of a reason to avoid answering.
“I don’t know if I can love a man that doesn’t have a last name.” I murmured.
Prince tugged my hair again. “It’s Nelson.”
My eyes popped open. I never thought he’d have that normal of a last name. I figured it would be something more exotic.
I was pulling for straws. I needed anything, anything to keep from giving him a real response.
“Are…are you Black?” I didn’t know where the hell that lame question came from.
“Does it matter?” Prince laughed uproariously.
“Well…I’d like to know, if you don’t mind.” I tried to sound cool, but I was more shaken than anything.
“If you most know, both of my parents were a mix of things, Black, Italian, French, all kinds of races. But for all intents and purposes, I am Black.” Prince shrugged.
My eyebrow raised over something he said. “You said your parents ‘were’. Are they…” I trailed off and Prince let go of my hair.
“Yeah…they are.” Prince nodded solemnly, a sad expression coming to his face. I hadn’t seem him that sour since he’d told me that he and Manuela were over.
“I’m sorry.” I felt a pang of guilt and sadness. I couldn’t believe that both of Prince’s parents were…dead.
“It’s okay.” He sighed, dropping back on his heels.
“Did they go at the same time?” I wondered quietly. I couldn’t even begin to think of what my life would be like if not one, but both of my own parents were deceased. I knew I was on the out and out with them, but not to the point where I’d ever wanted anything bad to happen to them.
“No…a few years apart.” Prince looped his hands together and cracked the knuckles.
We both sat in silence for a while.
Prince broke the ice.
“How do you and your parents get along? You never mention them.” He asked thoughtfully.
“Um, we don’t get along.” I brought my knees up to my chest.
“Why is that?” Prince sat with his back against the side of the tub.
“Well, I wanted to sing, and dropped out of college to do it and they basically said I go back or to get the hell out of their house. So I left. What else could I do? I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to perform. I like to sing. I like to perform. It makes me happy. What’s wrong with doing what makes me happy?” I felt a surge of bitterness like none other at the thought of how rudely my parents had treated me.
I just had a massive weight that I had been carrying around with me, and for some reason, it felt right to confide in Prince.
“I mean I was miserable in school. My parents wanted me to be a doctor like my father. I didn’t want to look at sick people all day. That’s depressing. I feel special when I sing. Looking out and seeing that I’m making people happy--even if it was a bunch of drunks. My parents were wasting money on college. I’m smart, but my head wasn’t for the medical field. I wanted to go out and make a name for myself. And I want that more than anything now. I don’t care about the money or anything, I came from money. My parents have money. I have a trust fund that kicks in when I turn twenty-five. I just want to make a name for myself. I’d just love to know what the hell they’d think of me going from singing in low rate dives to being here: in Minneapolis singing with you. In a mansion, in a tub made out of marble. Doing better than they probably ever dreamed.”
I nodded as Prince turned to stare at me. Something in his eyes made me know that he completely understood where I was coming from.
“I don’t feel any more alive than I do when I have a microphone in my hand. I know that music can touch people. Make them happy, sad, crazy, sexy, whatever. You know what it’s like. To perform. To feed off the crowd and have then throw it back at you. It’s incredible, remarkable. The best feeling in the world.” I popped a fist in the water, making a small splash.
I gazed over at Prince, he was staring at me with a sultry pout.
Embarrassed, I stammered, “I don’t know what made me say all that.”
Inhaling deeply Prince said, “It needed to be said. And you trusted me enough to say it.”
He looked up and over my head.
His eyes flittered around the room as he said in a throaty voice,
“We’re too damn much alike. Loving performing and making music. Oooh…you love me…say it, Brynn. Say you love me. I wanna hear you say it.”
My hands trembled, as did my soul as I felt a certain set of words come to my mouth.
I wrapped my arms around my damp shoulders. A sudden chill burst through me.
Lightening fast, Prince jumped to his feet and stood over me, glaring down.
His eyes seemed different though. His stance was almost threatening, but his eyes…
Prince seemed to yearn to hear the words.
“I…I…I…” I seemed to choke on the words.
“Brynn…” Prince’s breaths seemed to become labored.
Dropping my head, I knew that I had no choice to tell Prince the truth.
And it was breaking for me to say it.
“I love you.” My voice was almost inaudible.
There was a strict yank on my hair and my head flipped backwards with a snap.
Before I was even aware of it, Prince was cradling me, head in arms, lips over lips, kissing and nibbling my mouth greedily.
I hung there numbly for a few moments.
Then as I succumbed to seduction, I reached up and wrapped my wet arms around his head, crushing his hair.
When Prince came up for air, I panted,
“I love you! I do! I do!”
It was all I could manage before his mouth came back down on mine for round two.
My body rattled from the truth, and from another dark, unhappy whine in the deepest recesses of my mind.
A staggering reality.
I was in love with two men.