Chapter 16

Somewhere Over Arkansas
Two Hours Later


I held my face in my hands, bent over my knees, fighting off nausea.
Michael had taken me from Paisley Park and Minneapolis so swiftly, he didn’t even give me a chance to pack, explaining that he’d send for my belongings. I had only stopped long enough to change into a blouse and trousers.
I was so glad that Michael had left Rusty in California, because I knew that he’d be chiming in after Michael’s every word with thoughts no one wanted to hear.
Ever since we had boarded the private plane, Michael had been voicing his displeasure with how I had been dressed while in Minneapolis.
Michael didn’t directly blame me for how I looked. He confided that he had actually blamed himself, because he had told me to follow along with Prince’s program. Well, he didn’t actually call Prince “Prince”.
He referred to him as “That Damn Man”.
“Michael…” I whined, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think that the outfit would bother you so much.” I hated to see Michael upset and I was afraid his pretty head was gonna explode with steam.
“Brynn…honey.” Michael brought my hand to his cheek and cradled it against his soft skin. I could feel the beginnings of beard stubble starting to sprout up.
“It’s just that I think about first impressions. You were dancing and singing with all those people and dressed like that. Brynn you’re such a nice person. That Damn Man had you dressed like…like…”
Michael’s deep, doe eyes squinted around the plane cabin as his searched for a word. “Like you were loose. And you’re not loose. You’re nice and sweet and lovely.” Michael leaned and kissed my mouth.
At the touch of his soft, plump lips on mine, I melted.
I completely forgot about That Damn Man.
“It’s just clothes. It doesn’t change who I am.” I whispered, leaning my head on his shoulder. He smelled like Heaven.
“I’m still your Sweetie.”
“I know. If I ever see That Damn Man again, it’ll be on my turf. My rules.” Michael nodded and pecked at me again.
“That must have been the most awful place. All that cursing and the clothing. Especially that Morris guy. What a loudmouth. And that make-up artist…Mindy? No offense, but she looked like a hooker.” Michael giggled to himself. “But then again it is Prince. Man can sing and play--I’ll give him that--but I think his idea of fashion is whacked. I should have known when I searched the web and found that he had a girl’s band that wore nothing but lingerie. It‘s sick. ”
Michael reached out and grabbed my hands, his large hands overlapping mine.
“I’m so, so glad I got you away from there. And I’m glad the children didn’t see that. That’s just a rude environment. Would have scarred them for life. Especially that naked picture of That Damn Man in the front hall. Just distasteful. It’s just…I missed you so much.”
Michael kissed my hands and ran his lips along my wrists.
…This is your Captain speaking. We will be landing at Los Angeles International Airport in exactly ninety minutes…Thank You…
“Now we can concentrate on going home, and getting back to normal life at Neverland.” Michael grinned and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.
“Yeah.” I replied softly.
Life back to normal.
If there was such a thing, with Prince tossed into the mix like a monkey wrench into the gears of a machine.
A machine called “Michael and Me.”
Neverland Valley Ranch
Three Days Later

“You look so beautiful…” Michael murmured into my ear, as droplets of warm water washed over our bare bodies.
I looked up into Michael’s lovely, deep eyes, as he gently pulled me against him, the mixture of water, perspiration, and fresh soap suds on his body combining with the same cocktail on mine.
I could feel the adoration and sweetness in his heart beating against my chest.
“We had some fun last night, huh?” Michael giggled, and moved his hands up into my hair, his long fingers pulling out the tangles in it.
My already hot body warmed even more against his.
I continued to stare up at him. I could only manage a nod.
He was truly a gorgeous sight. His long hair, normally straight, now dripping wet, fell in springy tendrils around his milky face, creased with a giddy grin.
Droplets all over his pristine nude figure sparkled like diamonds.
It was amazing that my heart still pounded when I gazed at him.
My mind recalled the events of the night. Michael and I had finally had some “alone” time.
Since I had gotten back from Minneapolis, I had been wearing three lovely little accessories: Prince, Paris and Blanket.
The children had tackled me when I had stepped into the main house, and clung to me, telling me how they missed me and loved me…
Not that I was complaining. I did love Michael’s children as much as if they were my own.
Michael’s trio followed their father and me around, all over and had even spent my first night back home slumbering between us.
After the kids had drifted off, a Three Stooges comedy short playing on the TV, Michael had confided in a shy whisper that he couldn’t wait to get those big hands of his on me. That the two weeks without me had been extremely difficult for him. That after a day and a half, he had wanted to come to Minneapolis right then.
And truthfully, I wanted Michael to ravage me.
Even though I had been with Prince and I did have feelings for him, it was Michael who was deep in my heart planting flowers of love.
I was doing my best to put Prince out of my mind.
He was a sexy mistake and I hoped I never heard his name again, unless the ‘Prince’ being referenced was Prince Jackson.
In just two weeks, I had almost forgotten just how talented a man Michael was. It was amazing to watch him put all his kids to bed--in their respective rooms--and come back to me.
He had given me another box of chocolate strawberries and we had slowly fed them to each other. I had even nibbled one out of the little dimple that was Michael’s navel.
Part of me had wanted to travel further south on the fantasyland that was Michael Jackson’s body, and partake of the treats that were God-given to him, but I held back.
I knew that Michael, even in the throes of passion, was a very conservative man and I knew that if I tried to do to him what I had done to “That Damn Man” he might have been turned off, or worse disgusted.
And I truly never wanted to upset him. I was still trying to recover from his distaste at Paisley Park. I never wanted to see that side of him ever again.
Michael was such a sweet lover. Sure I was tired after outrageous love making, but Michael never purposefully tried to hurt me, like another person had done.
Everything about Michael was gentle.
And I appreciated everything about him.
I glanced back up at Michael.
He was humming the melody to his song , You Are My Life, and still playing in my hair.
As soon as I had gotten back to Neverland, without being asked, I had straightened my hair. I had an inkling that Michael was pissed with my “Shirley Temple on LSD” look.
I knew I was seething with guilt and doing everything possible to appease Michael. (He didn’t even know what he was getting appeased for and I prayed Hail Mary’s and Novenas that he never would find out.)
But it was strange that just three days out of Minnesota, and trying to put the Purple Pervert behind me, he would start to rear his little head again.
As Michael continued to hum You Are My Life, a question started bubbling in me, and within seconds it bubbled out of my mouth:
“Do you mean that?”
“What?” Michael stopped humming and looked down at me, puzzlement on his sweet face.
“You’re humming You Are My Life…” I looked down at my toes and watched water swirling down the drain.
Michael sucked in his bottom lip, and I noticed that his ears, neck and down to his shoulders were glowing red.
He took my face in his hands.
“If I’m humming it…then it must be true.” Michael giggled and his plump rosy lips mashed mine.
I clung to him, a sudden want for him making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up stick straight.
“Daddy! Brynn!”
The sudden shout caught us a little off-guard and Michael actually bit down on my bottom lip.
“Ouch!” I laughed.
Michael touched his nose shyly.
“Sorry. Your mouth is so tasty, I lost control.” He chuckled.
“Yours is too.” I poked Michael in the little depression sitting at the base of his throat.
He giggled uncontrollably.
“Gosh!”
“Daddy! Brynn!” The little voice screamed again and it was so shrill I couldn’t tell which of Michael’s children it was.
“Just a minute! Daddy’s coming!” Michael called shutting off the water, and opening the shower door for me.
We quickly scrambled into robes and wrapped towels around our wet hair.
I opened the door to the bathroom and Paris, already dressed in jeans and a Strawberry Shortcake tank top, ran in.
“Daddy!” She exclaimed trotting in so quickly that she ran into me.
“Excuse me!’ She grinned up at me.
“What is it Honey?” Michael questioned, using one hand to hold the towel on his head and the other to pat her head.
“Rusty is downstairs. He says he has something really important to give you.” She gasped for air.
“Okay, you go tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes in my office. Can you remember that?” Michael patted her head again.
“Yes sir. Bye!” Paris turned and ran out the room.
“That’s what all the hubbub is about? Rust Bucket?” I giggled, taking the towel off my hair and starting to dry it.
“I guess so. It must really be off the charts if he sent Paris to get me.” Michael nodded, a worried expression taking over his chiseled features.
I followed Michael out the bathroom and over to his dresser where he picked up a pair of underwear and proceeded into his closet.
“I hope it’s nothing serious.” I murmured, my mind snapping. I just hoped that it wasn’t more court troubles.
“Hail Mary, Full of Grace…”
“Brynn, go get dressed, meet me in my office too.” Michael gave me a small push.
“Alright.” I turned and jogged away.
A while later I made my way down to Michael’s office.
Just outside the door, I could hear Michael and Rusty conversing.
“This came for me?” I heard Michael ask, disbelief highlighting his voice.
“Actually for you and Brynn.” Rusty assured Michael in a calm tone.
Upon the announcement of my name, I opened the door.
I looked over Rusty who was reclining in an arm chair as if he owned the place.
Michael sat bolt upright, clutching a large beige manila envelope.
“Is everything okay?” I inquired in a low voice.
Michael glanced up at me.
“Sit down Sweetie, please.” Michael pointed to the other armchair.
I quickly took a seat.
“This…” Michael shook the envelope. “…came for us.”
“From Paisley Park.” Rusty put in.
At the mention of Paisley Park, my blood cooled about 30 degrees. Why would Prince send a package to Michael?
My heart raced. I hoped like all hell that it wasn’t anything that would expose what had happened in Minneapolis.
I nervously dug my nails into the wood of the chair as Michael flipped the envelope over and started opening it.
On the address label I could make out Prince’s purple ink.
It was actually addressed to “Mr. Michael Jackson.”
It was odd that he’d be so formal before blowing my world to pieces, chunks and shrapnel.
Michael pulled out what appeared to be a handwritten letter.
“Oh gosh!” Michael exclaimed. “He wrote me a note, and he used all those numbers and funny little drawings in it. Why can’t he write like a normal human being instead of in code?”
Rusty chuckled.
“What…what does it say?” I murmured.
“Let’s see.” Michael squinted at the page. He opened a drawer and produced a small pair of silver rimmed, oval reading glasses.
After popping them on, he began reading,
Michael,

Eye wanted to apologize for what happened at Paisley Park the other day. Eye had No idea that U’d react the way U did to that photograph of Brynn. At the time, Brynn didn’t seem to have a problem with the costumes. But since U were so unhappy with the first picture, Eye have decided to take it down and replace it with another 1. Eye hope that this 1 will suit you better.

Prince

PS--Eye enclosed a little trinket for Brynn that she left at my house.
“Hmm…” Michael tossed the letter down and dug into the envelope bringing out an 8’’x10’’ photograph.
“Oh gosh!” Michael exclaimed and his large dark eyes grew even larger.
“What?” I hopped up, along with Rusty and raced around the desk to see the photograph.
I vainly prayed that it wasn’t a photo of me in the black panties.
I quickly heaved a sigh of relief.
It was a photo of me in the blue/turquoise bodysuit. I was singing off into the microphone and Prince was behind me, zealously playing his symbol guitar.
“Holy shit, Brynn! Is that really you?” Rusty giggled, eyeing the portrait.
His blue eyes were even wider than Michael’s.
“Nah, it’s the Queen of England. Yes it’s me you block head! Rust Bucket!” I pushed him.
Rusty rolled his eyes, annoyed.
“Well I suppose this is better.” Michael sighed. “There is only one leg out. That other outfit looked like an embellished t-shirt.”
“Are you happy with this?” I mumbled, afraid Hurricane Michael might return.
“I’ll get used to it.” Michael gave me a weak smile.
“And what is that get-up Prince is in? He is strange!”
Michael continued to look at the photograph.
I could actually hear his teeth grinding.
“What’s the trinket that’s left?” Rusty wondered after a while.
“Oh.” Michael turned the envelope upside down and shook it.
The silver symbol pendant necklace that Prince had given me fell onto the table.
It glittered in the light.
“Oh no!” Michael’s voice was so sharp, he sounded like he was screaming through a straw.
“He sent you another one of these damn things?” Michael picked up the necklace and stared at it.
“Is that real?” Rusty questioned. Leave it to that snake to be think of monetary value at that point in time.
Michael paid him no mind.
“I don’t like these things at all!” Michael shook the necklace, his face turning scarlet.
“Michael, it means something spiritual. Prince told me that. He’s a Jehovah’s Witness!” I blurted, once again trying to soothe Michael.
Michael’s eyes were stormy.
Tapping himself in the chest, he announced,
“I was a Jehovah’s Witness for the first almost twenty-five years of my life. I have never in my life seen anything like this associated with my religion. You met my mother, Brynn, she wore a cross around her neck, not this…this…bullshit!”
With a low grunt, Michael hurled the necklace across the room.
It hit the opposite wall and landed on the floor.
Hopping to his feet and pointing at the bauble, he instructed,
“Rusty, you get that out of my house and off my property right now! I don’t like it. And make sure my children don’t see it. Paris likes jewelry and she might try to take it from you. I don’t want them to ever see that.”
Michael slammed his hand on the desk top, making both me and Rusty jump.
“Okay Michael!” Rusty scurried to retrieve the necklace. “Can I have it?”
“Pawn it, sell it on eBay, just don’t ever let me see you wearing it!
If I do, Rusty Ross, you’re fired! You understand?” Michael slammed the desk again.
“Yeah!” For the first time I since I had net him, Rusty actually appeared frightened. He was grey.
As quickly as Michael had gotten angered, he calmed back down.
“Thank you. It’s just I feel that symbol has something to do with voodoo or the occult and I’d rather not ever see it.”
Michael sank back in his seat, pale.
“Michael…” I touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Michael glanced up at me. “For what? You didn’t ask for that thing. That Damn Man sent it on his own volition.”
He smiled.
“It’s not your fault Baby.”
He grabbed my hand and kissed at my knuckles.
If only Michael knew. If only he knew.
I couldn’t bear to look at him and focused on the other being in the room.
Rusty was heavily inspecting the silver necklace.
If Michael really knew it was my fault, he’d have been singing a different tune.
All the while moonwalking and sidefloating on my face.
And some how, I knew that the necklace was only going to be the start of trouble from The Purple One.

Chapter 15

* * *

Studio D
Paisley Park Studios
The Next Day

“Oh, come on, why won’t you tell me who you’ve got lined up to play tomorrow?” I questioned, following Prince up the stairs that led to the stage.
“Because, I want you to meet them fresh for the first time in the morning.” Prince smiled at me impishly and led the way over to his large white grand piano. His symbol was emblazoned on the top in gold and all the white ivory keys.
“Now stop worrying about it. I want you to relax today. You went through a whole lot of stuff yesterday, and dragged me with you.” Prince smiled placing his hands on my waist and lifting me so that I could sit on the top of the instrument.
He then took a seat on the cushioned pianist bench.
I glanced around at all the instruments.
“Can you play everything that’s up here?” I questioned, pulling at the short skirt of the Black Watch Plaid dress I wore.

“Yes.” Prince nodded flexing his fingers over the keys.
“How did you find the time?” I giggled.
“I made the time.” Prince smiled.
He began to lightly play a tune.
A grin found it’s way onto my face as he opened his mouth and began to sing,
“I never meant to cause you any sorrow/ I never meant to cause you any pain/ I only wanted one time to see you laughing/See you laughing in the Purple Rain….Purple Rain…”
“I love that song.” I commented as Prince stopped singing and just played the music.
Prince chuckled. “I like it too, I just hate that everyone immediately thinks of that when they hear my name.”
“Be happy they think of something.” I chortled. “Better than them saying ‘Prince Who’?”
“True.” Prince ran his fingers along the keys, a discordant menagerie of notes spilling into the air.
He began to play Chopsticks.
As he played the silly little song, a sudden urgency made me blurt,
“Prince, what are we going to do when I go back to California?”

He looked up and tugged at the thick collar of the lime green sweater he wore.
“We’ll see each other again.” He said calmly.
“Yeah? How? ” I rolled my eyes. I could just see how well it would go over if Prince showed up at Neverland and started kissing and pawing me in front of Michael. That fist fight was sure to make headlines.
“There is such a thing as keeping in touch.” Prince said matter-of-factly.
“Oh and Michael won’t be suspicious if he sees a phone bill with a bunch a calls to Minneapolis. The only person I know in Minneapolis is you. And Michael’s gonna blow the roof off the place. I don‘t want to hurt anybody. I love Michael too. ”
“Quite a conundrum.” Prince was nonchalant as he stood up and kicked the bench back.
“Uh, duh.” I threw my hands up.
“But what if there was some way that you could talk to me, with out the big watch dog on your ass? Like if you had your own phone?” Prince winked at me.
“Where the hell am I going to get another phone from?” I whined and ran my hands through my hair angrily. “If I ask for another one, Michael will want to know why I want it and what’s wrong with the one I have. Michael’s not stupid you know.”
Prince dug around in the pocket of his lime trousers.
“Here.” He tossed a small purple object into my lap.
A cell phone.
I picked it up and stared it, the realization of the situation really hitting me.
I was really going to try to carry on two separate relationships. One man knowing about the other and the other knowing nothing.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” I shook my head, nauseated again.
“It’s simple.” Prince patted my shoulder. “Just keep that someplace Michael would never look and I’ll call you. You don’t even have to worry about calling me. And if you’re tied up with Mr. Sparkly Socks, just hit ‘Pound, 31’ and it’ll ring me back. You don’t even have to remember a real number.” He tapped my nose with his finger.
“But this isn’t the same as seeing each other.” I insisted. Why didn’t he seem to understand that once I left him, I’d be with Michael. At all times.
“I told you, we’ll see each other. I’ll see to it.” Prince nodded and pecked at my neck.
As he kissed my neck with hickey force, I just stared at the phone.
How and when would we see each other after Saturday?
Saturday was less than two days away.
And yet Prince seemed so cool, calm and collected as he always seemed, that somehow I felt a little safe, that everything would be alright.
That our little secret would be our dirty little secret only.
And it was exciting.
* * *
The Salon
Paisley Park Studios
Friday Morning
Mindy leaned and hugged my shoulders from behind.
I tapped her arms.
“It’s just nice to have a girlfriend of Mr. Prince like me.” Mindy sighed.
My head popped up. “What did you say?” I questioned sharply not sure I had heard her correctly.
“What?” Mindy let go of me and stared at me.
“Did you just say that Prince called me his girlfriend?” I stared into the mirror at her.
Mindy seemed taken aback.
“Yes…that’s what he told me this morning. Aren’t you his girlfriend?” She whimpered, clearly upset.
Looking down, I saw that my hands were clenched together.
“Yeah…I am his girlfriend.” I made myself say. “He told me he loved me.”
I still couldn’t believe it.
“I meant it too.”
I whipped around to see Prince making his way across the room.
I was breathless.
Prince was stunning in a light pink see through shirt, that was unbuttoned to the waist and tucked into matching light pink and navy blue pinstriped pants. The collar and cuffs of the shirt were pinstriped also.
Even his shoes were pinstriped.
His hair was sleek, straightened, and shiny. It bounced with his every movement.
A silver symbol glittered in his chest hair.
“Hi…” I said sheepishly. I hadn’t seen Prince at all that morning because he had departed at an ungodly hour to recheck all his instruments.
“Hello Mr. Prince.” Mindy said nervously jolting up straight. “What do you think of Brynn’s look?” She spun the chair around.
“Pretty so far. But she always is.” Prince grinned standing next to Mindy.
I blushed.
“Go on, put on the outfit. The band is waiting for us.” Prince helped me out the make up chair.
“The band is already here?” I asked as he walked me over to the changing stalls. I couldn’t believe that Prince was holding up a jam session for me!
It all seemed surreal. I wanted to pinch myself, but I resisted the urge. If I was indeed dreaming, I didn’t want to wake up.
“Yeah, all waiting to meet Miss Brynn.” Prince chuckled.
In a flash I was in my outfit. And it was certainly a ‘little bit of something else.’
My outfit matched Prince in that it was pink and blue pinstriped. It consisted of a rhinestone trimmed bustier, short shorts and tall boots with heels that had to be at least five inches high. The look was completed with pink gloves trimmed in blue fur. (I was certain that the fur was faux since Prince belonged to Animal Rights group PETA, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.)
I came out of the stall with a spin.
“So, how do I look?” I asked smiling at Prince.
Prince stalked up to me and put his hand on my waist.
“Too damn good.” He pulled me against him and bumped his mouth to mine. “It’s not fair, all that sexiness in one person.” He mumbled.
Poking his nose with my finger, I chuckled, “You’re pretty sexy yourself.”
Prince laughed and reached down and patted my bottom.
“Hold it Sticky Fingers. We’ve got a jam to do. We can do this later.” I warned pulling his hand off my bottom.
“Shit, forgot about it that quick.” Prince kissed my cheek again.
Grabbing my hand, he said,
“Let’s go.”
Prince led Mindy and me through Paisley Park down to Studio D, where Jimmy stood tentatively waiting for us.
“Jimmy, you ready to rock this mother?” Prince called as we approached us.
“Yes sir.” Jimmy opened the door and gave someone inside the OK.
Almost immediately, the opening bars to 1999 began playing with a flourish.
“Oh my God!” I giggled as Prince led me into the expanse room, Mindy and Jimmy in tow.
Up onstage, no instrument was unattended. Both keyboards were being played, drums pounded upon, and bass being peppered. The music filled the empty space, and the room was actually throbbing and reverberating with sound.
Prince’s White Cloud guitar stood on a stand behind the main microphone. It was the strangest microphone I had ever seen. It was gold and fashioned in the shape of a gun.
And I noticed that close to it was a plain one, and I knew was meant for me.
I was really going to perform and the thought electrified me.
As Prince and I made our way to the stage, a familiar figure darted from in front of it over to us.
Suki Yakamato.
Camera in hand, she stopped Prince and me, having us pose casually.
“Hi Brynn!” She then enveloped me in a warm hug.
I barely heard her over the music.
“Hi Suki!” I hugged her back.
Prince left Mindy and Jimmy on the floor with Suki and hand around my waist, led me up to the stage.
As we approached our microphones, the music dropped and began playing more softly.
Into his microphone, Prince screamed,
“Shut up already…damn!”
The music whipped to an end.
Laughing loudly, Prince pulled me close to him and kissed my neck.
“Everybody, this is Brynn!”
Everyone mumbled hellos.
I realized that I had seen all of them in Purple Rain. I was looking at the greater part of The Revolution.
Going around, the stage Prince started naming people,
“On both keyboards, you have Lisa Coleman….”
Lisa appeared to be somewhere near Prince’s age, with long wavy brown hair and was dressed casually in pink button down shirt and blue jeans. She nodded at me.
“…and Dr. Matt Fink…”
Dr. Fink was really dressed like a physician, right down to the green scrubs and silver stethoscope around his neck. He was actually kind of cute, with short cut light brown hair. Dark shades hid his eyes. He banged a few notes to acknowledge me.
“Bass guitar, Wendy Melvoin.”
Wendy waved. She wore a pale yellow sweater over green denim pants. (it actually worked!) Her hair was also brown, but in a short pixie cut.
I wondered if I was overdressed for the engagement, but on second thought, I knew that if Prince did something, like Mindy said, he made sure he did it big.
“And on drums, you know Morris Day.” Prince rolled his eyes.
Morris in a white button down shirt and bright orange slacks twirled his sticks and hooted, “Hey Miss Brynn!”
Still simmering over him coming on to me, I stuck my tongue out at him.
“Oooh!” Wendy laughed.
“Y’all ready to party?” Prince asked stooping to pick his guitar up.
“Yeah man!” The band agreed.
‘You ready to bring this house down?” Prince glanced over at me.
Feeling relaxed and happy that the band seemed to accept me, I replied,
“Let’s rock ‘til the police come!”
On the ground Mindy let out a whoop.
“That’s the spirit! Everybody, Gett Off! One! Two!…One! Two! Three! Four!” Prince announced and stormed into the song, everyone following suit, playing out the melody.
“How can I put this is a way as not to offend or unnerve/ But there’s a rumor going all around/That you ain’t been getting served….”
If only I knew that someone was about to be offended!

* * *

Two Hours Later


I was sincerely having the time of my life. Prince and his band mates were playing zealously and fervently as if the room was filled to the max with fans, rather than just Mindy, Suki and Jimmy.
But the effect wasn’t lost. Mindy was jamming around in her own little world, as Suki darted around snapping photos. Even Jimmy who was the pinnacle of restraint was snapping his fingers and mouthing the words to the songs.
Up onstage, I was fully loose, dancing close and against Prince‘s side, making sure to avoid bumping his guitar and ruining his playing.
Wendy, the only other player able to walk around with her instrument, was bobbing around and swaying behind us.
We were playing through all the taboo classics, Sexy M. F., Head, Cream…
And I was able to sing every note on key.
As Cream wound down, Prince turned to me.
He looked scrumptious. He was starting to perspire, but instead of looking all wet and gross, he was just gently glistening.
“You…” He pointed at me.
“What?” I smiled at him.
“I want you to lead the next jam.” His look was mouse laden.
I stared at him, speechless. Prince wanted me to lead one of his own songs!
“Which one?” I giggled, head swelling.
Prince cast a sly glance around the stage. Everyone was leaning earnestly trying to hear what he was going to say next.
Murmuring into his microphone, Prince replied,
“Do Me, Baby.”
“The song, or is that a request?” I winked at him, evoking laughter from the entire room.
“Maybe both!” Prince laughed and swatted my backside.
“One! Two! Three! Four!” He exclaimed and the band launched into the opening bars of the slow song.
Smiling, I wrapped my hands around the microphone, and sang luridly,
“Here we are…/In this big old empty room/ Staring each other down…”
I glanced over at Prince.
He was staring at me, fingers moving over his guitar absently.
“….You want me just as much as I want you…/Let’s stop fooling around…”
I removed the microphone from it’s stand and approached Prince, every step slow, seducing, momentarily forgetting that there were other people in the room.
“Take me Baby/Kiss me all over/Play with my love…”
I reached and rubbed his cheek.
Prince winked at me, a wicked look to his face.
“Oooh! What you do…I could never love no other/ You’re the best I ever had…”
Prince turned his guitar around to the back of him and wrapped his arms around me.
Looking up into his light eyes, I launched into the sordid bridge, a mix of erotic grunts and moans.
Prince’s mouth was coming extremely close to mine.
That was an invite I wanted to definitely RSVP.
I pressed my lips against his, both of us greedily smacking at each other.
Prince didn’t seem to know what a slow kiss was, but I wasn’t complaining.
The music slowed and came to an end.
A ripple of giggles made its way around the room.
“Maybe we should take five?” Lisa laughed over her microphone.
“Make it ten!” Dr. Fink suggested and everyone busted up.
Waving his hand playfully Prince spoke off into the microphone I was still holding,
“Alright, I think we should break for lunch anyway, y’all have earned it!”
Prince went over to his piano, where another purple notebook was sitting, and began jotting down orders from the group.
“I’ll go give Juan-Carlos a jingle.” Prince shook the pad and reached out with his free hand and grabbed onto my arm.
“Come on…I wanna talk to you.” Prince whispered and led me down the steps of the stage.
“Don’t go off and do anything crazy, I’ll be scared to touch my food!” Morris cackled as we made our way to the door at the end of room.
“You’re sickening!” I called as Prince and I exited the room.
Laughter followed us out.
In the blue hallway, Prince said seriously,
“You do some good singing and dancing,”
“Thanks.” I smiled up at him. “You’re not half bad either.”
Prince chuckled and wrapped an arm around my shoulders,
“You like the band?”
“They’re nice. The Revolution, right?” I questioned as we passed off into the Hall of Protégés.
“You’re learning.” Prince tapped my nose.
“I’m trying.” I giggled as we stopped under my photograph.
“We look good together.” Prince motioned to the picture with the pad.
“We do.” I grinned as Prince pecked at my mouth and cheeks.
“You know, I’m gonna miss you when you go Brynn.” Prince deeply confided, looking down at his shoes.
A warm sensation tingled through me. Prince really did care.
“You said that we’d see each other again.” I whispered as Prince pulled me against him in a hug.
Prince gave me a mischievous chuckle. “I keep my word.”
He looked down at me, a new light in his eyes.
“You wait here. I’ll go call in these orders.” He kissed my forehead and made his way into the closest office.

I turned and looked back up at the photograph.
I had no idea how this entire situation was supposed to work. It was like something in a movie. A woman carrying on with two men. I almost felt like Scarlett O’Hara being caught between Rhett Butler and Ashley Wilkes.
But unlike in the movie, where Scarlett didn’t really love Rhett Butler--only his wealth--I did love both Michael and Prince.
I twirled one of my curls as I tried figure out what to do. I just knew that even though Prince loved me, I just couldn’t possibly cheat on Michael any more that I had already done.
Even though I loved Prince, I loved Michael…more.
Mind spinning, I turned to make my way to the office to tell Prince that I couldn’t carry on a relationship with him.
I knew we'd probably have the largest shouting match the Northeast had ever seen, but I had to do it.
I stopped short when I saw a lone figure standing just inside the double doors of Paisley Park.
My breath caught in my throat.
Michael Jackson stood there looking up and around the building curiously.
He wore a long black trench coat over black patent leather trousers and black boots with silver tips and heels.
His hair, thicker and more lush than ever, cascaded over his shoulders like a black waterfall. Fresh snowflakes twinkled in it like stars. His eyes were covered by mirrored-lens, aviator style sunglasses.
A large pink gift bag was hanging loosely in his right hand.
“Michael?” I remarked, not truly sure it was him I was seeing.
At the mention of his name, Michael focused on me.
“Brynn?” He questioned softly.
I nodded, dumbstruck.
An ear-to-ear grin lit Michael’s face like a spotlight.
“Brynn!” Michael exclaimed and ran over to me, arms open.
He enveloped me in a bear hug, and began twirling me around in a circle.
“Oh Brynn…I’m so happy to see you!” Michael whispered as he set me on the ground.
Holding me at arms’ length, he looked me up and down.
“Gosh Brynn, you look so different!” He tugged me back against him.
“But still so lovely.”
“Michael…I can’t believe you’re here!” Was all I was able to squeak out.
All I could think of was how Prince would behave if found Michael hugging me on his property. Well, that Michael was even on his property in the first place.
Michael held me out again. “Surprise! I couldn’t stand letting you ride home on that plane all by yourself tomorrow. I wanted to be with you.” He tapped my nose.
“Gosh I missed you much!” Michael’s voice broke almost tearfully and I was enveloped in another hug.
“I…I…missed you too.” I wrapped my arms around him, for the first time noting his musky, woodsy cologne. It was so different from Prince’s almost feminine fragrance. Inhaling the scent made me forget about The Other Man and my grip on Michael became real. My True Man was there.
And in my arms. I didn’t want to let him go.
Michael sighed something; a little sweet nothing and pecked my cheek.
“I brought you a little something.” Michael grinned, taking his arms from around me and holding the pink bag out to me.
“Michael…you didn’t have to.” I gushed shyly.
“If you don’t take it, I’ll cry.” Michael poked out his bottom lip feigning sadness.
“Okay.” I took the bag from him and opened it.
Inside was a huge white teddy bear.
“Oh Michael.” I chuckled, lifting the bear out, letting the bag drop to the floor.
“He’s extra cold for you…” Michael commented.
“What do you mean?” I glanced up at him, not understanding.
“All that ice he’s wearing.” He motioned to the bear and for the first time I noticed that wrapped around the toy’s chunky neck was a necklace. On a long silver chain was a cross, studded with diamonds in various shapes.
My jaw dropped.
“This is for me?” I cried.
Biting his bottom lip sheepishly, Michael merely nodded.
“Oh my God!” I jumped into his arms, kissing at his neck.
“I knew you’d like it.” Michael laughed. “Here, let me put it on you, Sweetie.”
I watched as he took the necklace off the bear.
He kissed at my forehead as he looped the necklace over my head.
“Much better than that weird little symbol thingy.” Michael hee-hee’d and was hugging me again. “At least we know what the cross means.”
Still holding onto Michael, I got the feeling I was being watched.
Opening my eyes and looking through Michael’s hair, which was falling in my face, I saw that Prince had made his way out the office.
He was standing a few feet away from us, hands perched on tiny hips, his mouth twisted and to the side of his face.
His expression was clearly saying, “What the hell is this?!?”
My body stiffened, but Michael didn’t seem to notice, he was floating on Cloud 9 in the sunshine.
I could only watch wordlessly as Prince, face still contorted, sauntered up behind Michael.
He looked me in the eyes; I could see a flame in them. Surely anger and agitation.
What scared me most was that his facade quickly became placid as he raised his hand and tapped Michael on the back.
Startled, Michael dropped his arms from around me, and turned.
Michael and Prince stood a moment in silence, gazing at each other.
Sizing each other up.
I knew it was less than sixty seconds, but the silence was so deafening, it might as well have been sixty years.

The tension that almost instantaneously sprang up was so thick, you could have cut it with a chainsaw.
A sly smile appeared on Prince’s face and extending his hand, he greeted Michael,
“Hello, welcome to Paisley Park.” His voice was so syrupy sweet, I knew immediately it was a put on.
I looked up at his face and was shocked to see that Michael was also smiling at Prince.
A genuine smile.
I watched, stunned as Michael grabbed onto Prince’s hand and shook it.
Where the hell was the paparazzi when you needed them? It was history. The King of Entertainment and His Royal Badness shaking hands without knocking each other’s teeth out!
“Thank you for having me. I hope you don’t mind me popping up a day early. Like I was telling Brynn, I couldn’t bear the idea of her riding back to California on her own.” Michael put his arm around my waist, a clear sign of possession to Prince.
Prince’s eyebrows met his hairline, but his voice remained smooth as cream as he said,
“I understand. I told her I’d be sorry to see her go.”
I was sure Prince was hoping that he and I could do the horizontal tango before I left. So much for that.
“Of course.” Michael nodded, removing his sunglasses and depositing them in a pocket on his coat.
If he noticed that Prince and I matched, he didn’t mention it.
“So, have you two gotten along, or tried to kill each other?” Michael giggled, the sound filling the silence.
He was so innocent and clueless, and the thought made my head throb.
“Kind of like both, but we’re on good terms now.” Prince nodded, rubbing his chin.
His look was so deadly that if he stared at Michael any harder, he’d have been decomposing on the marble floor.
“That’s so good.” Michael grinned and thumped his fingers against my hip. “I was worried, she seemed so unhappy at first.” He nodded, hair bouncing.
Prince hovered closer to me.
“Well, I did everything I could to entertain her and make her happy.”
He glared at me. “Right Brynn?”
“Right.” I squeaked, holding onto Michael’s arm for dear life.
“Am I interrupting anything?” Michael wondered looking around the studio once again.
His dark eyes seemed so full of happiness, my heart ached.
“We were taking a break from our jam session for lunch. Would you care for anything Michael?” Prince questioned, glancing up at him. (Michael was a good head taller than Prince.)
“Oh nothing for me, thanks. I ate on the ride over here.” Michael nodded.
“You had a jam session? Did you finish the song you were recording?” Michael reached up and tugged one of my curls.
The tension was wearing me out.
“Yeah a few days ago. Still in the mixing process.” Prince placed his hands on his hips once again. “I plan to release it as an online exclusive. If it does well, I might drum up an album.” Prince shrugged off making an album as if it were something as simple as tying a pair of tennis shoes.
From what I understood, Prince had released an album a year, every year except for 1983. (I think he didn’t have time because he was starting to film Purple Rain.)
“That’s what I’m up to, also. Just writing some songs.” Michael looked down at his feet. “I’ll get to recording later on. I might put Not Over on internet release too. ”
I knew that he and Prince were calmly trying to one-up each other.
Trying to shift the conversation, I inquired of Michael,
“Where are the kids?”
“Back at home in California. They thought it was too cold here. It‘s about three degrees out.” Michael laughed. “They’re excited you’re coming home. They missed you.”
I laughed dryly and noticed that Prince didn’t even crack a smile.
“Would you like to meet the band?” Prince was as stiff as a board.
“Sure!” Michael grinned. He was so happy; my heart ached.
If he knew the truth, Prince and I would have been splattered all over like confetti at Mardi Gras.
“Follow me.” Prince struck out ahead of us, walking briskly.
I knew he was spurned.
Michael and I trailed behind quietly. I held my bear against my chest.
Probably to muffle the sound of my heart, beating erratically and nervously.
As we walked through the Hall of Protégés, Michael stopped so suddenly that I was yanked back a few paces.
“Mike?” I stared up at him and my blood ran cold.
Michael was staring in wide eyed wonder at my portrait.
“Brynn…is that you?” He questioned, breathless.
“Looks good doesn’t she?” Prince leaned against the frame, a self absorbed smirk on his face.
“She’s beautiful….but…” Michael trailed off. “That skirt is shorter than these shorts she’s wearing now.”
Prince changed colors and I looked down at my bear, embarrassed.
His beady, black button eyes stared back up at me.
“I tried accentuate the positives on her. She has nice legs.” Prince explained, his eyes flashing.
I was just trying not to have heart failure.
At the mention of my legs, Michael blinked and his forehead collapsed into a bundle of stress wrinkles. I knew he probably didn’t want other men to look at my legs. And if he knew that Prince had been all over and through them…Lord help us.
“I don’t think that’s appropriate. It’s shorter than I thought it was.” Michael’s voice was leaden.
I became aware of him loosening the belt on his coat.
Michael removed the coat, revealing a velvet shirt that was studded with silver bugle beads.
Draping it around my shoulders, he announced,
“I think it would be best if we left now.”
“Michael!” I stared up at him in shock.
He gave me a stern look, his demeanor telling me not to argue with him.
I was thoroughly surprised that Michael was so offended by the outfit.
I knew it wasn’t the style of dress he’d pick for me, but still, his swift disappointment was painful.
Like a sword through my heart and soul.
“I think she should be allowed to say good bye to everyone.” Prince raised an eyebrow arrogantly. It was obvious he was surprised that Michael was so offended by the picture. And he was drowning in pleasure from ruffling Michael’s feathers.
Michael turned his head stubbornly,
“Fine.”
The walk to Studio D was hauntingly quiet.
Upon entering the studio, all the chatter that had been going on, immediately and abruptly came to a halt, everyone staring at Michael.
Stunned expressions covered everyone’s face.
I’m sure they never in a lifetime expected to see Prince in Michael’s company.
Up on the bandstand, the only movement came from Lisa, who was smoking a thin red cigarette. She blew a smoke ring into the air.
“Everybody…” Prince clapped his hands, trying to gather attention that had already been garnered. “I want you to meet a friend of mine.”
I stared at Prince opened mouthed. He was calling Michael a friend. And I knew Michael was half a nanosecond away from knocking Prince’s color off for the photo.
“Michael Jackson!” Michael gave a stony wave.
Suki managed to snap a photo of all three of us before Prince hurriedly waved her away.
I gabbed onto Michael’s hand, hoping to soothe him.
His hand was icy, even though it was very warm in the studio.
He was sorely pissed.
As Prince went around pointing out people, Morris began banging on his drums.
I quickly recognized that he was copying the bass line in Billie Jean.
When Prince named Mindy last as my make up artist and stylist, Michael took in a breath so deep, I was sure he was sucking all the air out the room.
Mindy approached us, hand extended.
“Hi Michael! I’m a big fan.” She grinned.
Michael gave her a quiet once over and I vainly wished she hadn’t dressed so scantily. He probably thought she looked like a groupie.
He shook her hand tepidly.
“So you’re responsible for Brynn’s appearance?” Michael’s voice was so cold, Mindy actually shrank back.
“Yes sir…I’ve worked with her everyday since she got here.” Mindy nodded, trying to crack a smile.
Billie Jean continued playing. Wendy picked up the tune with her bass guitar.
“Hmm…” Michael rubbed his chin.
I had never seen Michael so stand-offish in my life.
“Did you also pick out her outfits?” Michael’s voice dropped an octave.
It was amazing he was so pissed, but kept his decorum. A truly classy man.
“Well…no sir…Mr. Prince did.” Mindy replied, shaken.
Michael crushed my hand so hard that I was almost brought to my knees.
“Prince picked out the outfits?’ Michael gazed at Prince who was staring at Mindy so fiercely she paled.
I was pretty sure she was out of a job on the spot.
“Yes.” Prince approached Michael and they stood so closely together, I was sure a knock-down, drag-out was about to ensue.
The music instantly stopped.
Ears strained, eyes watched.
“I told you, I tried to accentuate her best features. She looks nice.” Prince challenged.
Michael flicked his head, hair swishing. His ears were reddening with anger.
“She’s got those nice legs!” Morris cackled from the drum set.
Prince spun like a top. Pointing at Morris, he screamed,
“Morris, you shut the fuck up!”
Morris stared at Prince angrily, mouth puckering.
I glanced up at Michael, his mouth was set in a thin line. I knew he was angered by Morris opening that cavern he called a mouth.
Dr. Fink was the only person in the room who laughed.
We all knew that there was enough trouble brewing without Morris tossing in his lopsided two cents.
Michael placed his hand on my shoulder.
He was pressing down on it so hard, I could feel bruises forming.
“I think it’s time to go. Come on Brynn.” I knew Michael was totally fed up with the place.
“Good bye.” I said feebly, and waved, feeling a backlash of hot tears.
Everyone waved, and shook their heads, probably trying to make sense of what had just occurred.
“Bye.” Prince said solemnly, opening his arms, showing me he wanted a hug.
I glanced at Michael.
He gave a quick nod that said, “Get it over with, now.”
I very reluctantly went over and wrapped my arms around Prince’s diminutive body, taking in his floral scent one last time.
“Ooh shit!” Morris cackled once again and over Prince’s shoulder, I saw Lisa throw a still lit cigarette at him.
Letting go of Prince, Michael quickly escorted me out of the room where I heard excited chatter kick up almost at once.
I glanced back at the door and saw Prince standing there, a plain expression on his face.
He made a phone motion with his hand.
I knew it meant he’d call me soon and I blindly nodded.
I watched him until Michael and I turned the corner and lost sight of him.
What had I gotten myself into?