𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧

50. The Artist

Anxiety.  It'd be lovely if I could just go in a corner and hurl it out of me. 

     "Aívy?"

     "Let the EMTs check her."

     Waving my hand in refusal, I turned away from everyone to find space to think.  Not now.  But there was no solace in the madness.  Humans were everywhere.  The best this crazy place could offer was a corner for my dizzy head.  Facing it, my forehead leaned forward as I slowed my breathing. 

     Prince was the only one still in my bubble.  "What's wrong?"

     Breath in, hold, long release.  Repeat. 

     Prince caught on and didn't bother.  He stood there as support, fingers typing across the back of my neck.  We had already been through a handful of my anxiety attacks and he learned from the first one how to handle it best.  Patience. 

      "Aívy!?"  But impatient handlers needed us.  It made me cry because the medley was almost over and there was still a madman at my heart, climbing up my throat.  "Artist, you have to go!  If she can't-"

     "Stop!" Prince snapped, then his voice came back to me softly.  "Baby, look at me."  He pulled gently at my waist and stepped in front of me.  I used the metallic gold on his shirt as a focal point.  "This about last night?"

     I shook my head, though it partially was the cause.  Too much to carry.  Feeling overwhelmed now, I just prayed to myself I wouldn't reach 10.

     "Tomorrow it'll be just me and you.  We'll go to the hideout, won't nobody know, and we'll find our center again.  Okay?"

     "Sorry," I exhaled.

     "For what?  You gonna leave me hanging?"

     "No."  I'd never abandon him.  I'd rather die on the stage. 

     "Tell me you're okay."  Thumbs wiping under my eyes, he said it again.  "Tell me if I leave you'll be okay." 

     "I'm okay."

     "Don't overthink.  Let it pass.  Look at me."

     I did.

     "You're okay."

     "My heart is just—skipping beats."

     "When you get on the stage, you'll feel better. Promise. I love you."

     "Thank you."

     Prince threw a kiss on my lips I wasn't able to catch, then ran off saying something to the many staring in passing.  Whatever it was, it greenlit them to invade my corner.  Makeup brushes, empty words, and a bottle of water all in my face at once.  It didn't help but I still managed to move my legs forward towards the black curtain. 

     "Welcome to the dawn.  You have just accessed The Gold Experience."  The announcer made the dramatic introduction.   "On June 7th, 1993, Prince departed from this earth.  His name changed legally to an unpronounceable symbol.  Ladies and gentleman, the Artist Formally Known As Prince."

     Still fighting off the panic, doing my best to not let it get to where I knew it could go, I listened to his song Billy Jack Bitch and waited for the lyrics that would cue me. 

     Like the others, the AMAs were making The Artist lip-synch.  And like before, Prince opted out of pretending and performed hands-free, chewing on a piece of gum as he sang along to the track.