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( CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: OOOOHH...THE TLC TIP ) August, 1992
❝ chilli, will ya stop flirting with the man?! ❞
◯
For the first time in a long time, Devon felt rested. He was rejuvenated, hungry, he felt whole again. Even though he still felt the pain of his brother's suffering and he could still pinpoint the stark slashes of his mother's treachery, something in him was switched on. He didn't know what it was, but he knew that a certain person caused it—and it was Janet Jackson.
It was her, it's always been her.
Every moment she was there, every time when he was at his lowest, she was there. And Devon noticed it fully. A few more days went by, and he was forced to leave New York again to commence the official rehearsals of Bobby Brown's world tour in Atlanta, which would have its first show in late December.
Devon's job as head choreographer was tiresome and draining, but he loved it. However, he had to admit, he missed the martial warmth of his family, and he spent a few blissful moments at his home enjoying their company before he had to work again. Arkell, despite being unresponsive, was slowly unravelling from his shell. He spoke little words to Devon, and yet the young man took that as significant progress.
Devon suspected that Janet's short visit to his home lifted everyone's mood. She spent a few days with him there, claiming that his quaint family made her feel at home. And so, Devon's heart began to pump at the thought of her, every moment he thought back to every single one of their late night talks, the quiet, emotional intimacy was something that he was severely deprived of as of late. However, she gave it to him, gladly.
When Devon left New York, Janet's face was rooted in his mind, and all of a sudden it was like the summer of 1990 all over again.
"Devon," the dancer's glazed eyes snapped open, looking towards his left to catch the face behind the voice. He tore away his eyes from the squeaky pairs of feet reciting Devon's choreography, and his straightened form stood up, seeing Bobby Brown walking towards him with three young women dressed in colourful swabs of clothing.
"Hey Bobby, everything's on schedule," Devon said in a focussed tone, eyes intricately examining the details of the dance moves as his mind instantly thought of ways to enhance it. "That's good Devon, I want you to meet a couple of friends," Bobby said in a brisk fashion, gesturing towards the three women who stood in front of him.
Devon recognised them immediately. The girls bared a unique, tomboyish style that had hints of hip hop flavour and natural carefree femininity, and that style was a defining look for none other than the hot, fresh new girl group called 'TLC'. Their current album was tearing up the charts, and their distinct sound had fusions of new jack swing and classic hip hop, and Devon couldn't say much but he was intrigued by their vibe.
