SOFT SPOILER
"I wanna marry you"
"I can't marry you"
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Michael Jackson, the worlds' largest super star known to man, gets lonely when it's bedtime.
Aliza, an upcoming artist has so much to prove to Michael as she hopes to one day compose a...
New York, New York Feb 1, 1985 Radio Station *laughing hysterically* "So Liza. How's the tour going?" Howard Stern ask me
"Well my actual tour doesn't start until Summer but the promo tour is great. I get to travel and talk to creepy talk show host." I say sarcastically. I've been in this interview for 20 mins and Howard has managed to annoy me. I may be small but I'm a 110 lbs of fire. So what's up.
"Ok Tomatoe-Tomato. I think your so cute. Do you get a lot of the famous singers hit on you. I mean I can imagine what they may think. You can sing, dance and you drop dead beautiful."
"I also write. But thank you. I honestly don't think about it. I focus on my craft and the love from the fans, that's really what I-"
"Yeah yeah." He brushes off. "Does Michael think you're hot?" Everyone in the station just laughs. "Ive known him for some time and this innocent persona he has down pack is a cover up. So come on tell us something."
"He's nice but we don't talk much" very true "We speak in passing and that's about it."
"So do you-assuming you have an idea of who he is-believe the story of his secret lover? I mean this story has been out for years, unconfirmed of course."
"Oh wow. Again, I don't know. I don't know him outside of the artist we all get to see. "
"Come onnn. Just tell us what you think. Ok ok. How does he look at you when you walk by him and you guys are all together?"
Stern is a bit obsessed with MJ
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"Again, all I know is he seems nice and he's brilliant at what he does." I try my best to conceal how I felt most times about Michael as I know he's often misunderstood. "Next question"
"Well of course he's nice-"
"NEXT question please" I say Whitty which seems to turn Howard on. Ugh
Later that evening I lay down and collect my thoughts. I add to the letters I have for Ben. I'll make sure to mail them out tomorrow. It was really hard to respond to his last letter because he was so distraught. His sister ended up miscarrying her baby. Gosh. On top of that he seemed to be struggling as the only person in his company to accomplish what's he's done. I cried while reading it. I saw the tear drop in his letter. Dry. It broke me apart. I sometimes feel selfish. He's gotten me out of a heartbreak and though I'm still hurt. I'm living out loud. We plan to meet before my tour in July. I just want to embrace him, and tell him I love him... When I get in, there was a message for me at the front desk with a number to call. It was PRINCE. Apparently he wants to write with me. He came across a song I wrote and wants to create a ballad for it. I called it Purple Rain. It's a beautiful story of a love that is diluted the more love tries to conquer. It a sad song but I found as I wrote it that the sadness was released.
Next Morning Oh God . Where am I? I get up and look around. I'm in Prince room. What the fuck!!! Oh gosh. Liza, don't curse. Breathe. Where is he...God please tell me it's not what it looks like. I turn around as I hear the TV... "Prince seen with new girl next door artist, Liza Love" Liza Love-umm ok- I like that. Out the bathroom comes Prince in his pants, topless and heels. "Morning" he says in his deep Baritone voice "Morning" I say nervously "Relax, Ms.Love" he looks up at me "nothing happened. You were singing and blanked out and the next minute you were asleep. I carried you over to my bed. WHICH you should feel honored. I don't give my bed to many women." I exhale. "So the song-do you like it?" I ask while grabbing breakfast off the marble countertop. HA there's a pic of Prince naked with his guitar covering him, right on his counter. Why am I not surprised.
