1997
Mayte Garcia
Days later, everything shifted.
He and Rochelle finally issued an official statement to acknowledge the divorce:
"After much consideration, we have decided to end our marriage after twelve amazing years together. Despite ongoing speculation, please remember to keep an open mind and respect our privacy. Thank you for understanding." - Public Statement issued by The Artist Formerly Known As Prince and Entertainment Journalist Rochelle Davis, 1997
No catchphrases from him. No lighthearted joy from Rochelle. The gorgeous fairytale was over.
And yet, The Artist was still shaken up.
His only way to vent was performing. Some crowds would even help him sing through the first verse and chorus of "Diamonds.
"One of her favorite songs, ya'll..." He'd gently speak to the audience about her and cheering people lost it every single time.
He even added something else to a show at one point.
During "The Most Beautiful Girl In The World," a projected slide-show featured tasteful pictures or footage of Rochelle.
He missed her so much, and I wasn't even jealous.
Only heartbroken.
***
Rochelle worked everywhere as usual and we still noticed.
More celebrity interviews. More guest hosting opportunities. Magazine articles printed her maiden name again. On and on.
No rings in sight either, not even when paparazzi took candids of this woman at different places.
Rochelle Davis laughed and smiled so much more now, beaming for work or catching up around famous friends. I'd never seen this kind of joy from her before.
Not even with him.
One time though, for some reason, The Artist walked into soundcheck pissed! I didn't know what to think, but stayed silent.
Even his security and entourage were tight-lipped as well.
He still offered brief pleasantries for the sake of kindness, but then locked into his dressing room for God knows how long.
What happened? I thought to myself.
People continued working of course, but rehearsal never truly started without his leadership. We all knew.
Thankfully sooner than later, he walked out that dressing room, moved toward the stage, and settled his upfront microphone.
"Sorry about that." He pulled himself together and sweetly apologized, when he didn't need to.
"It's okay." I mouthed. We all accepted his words.
By the time this man checked the microphone and tuned that guitar out loud, he focused, ready to work.
Back to business.
____
"What happened this morning?" Facing him in the limousine, I finally brought up what nagged my own mind during soundcheck.
"Rochelle's going back to Oprah." He revealed this truth without even looking at me.
"When?" Almost panicked, my eyes widened.
"Tomorrow night." He deadpanned, as if trying not to cry behind the partition.
He still flinched away when I gently reached out to hold hands.
YOU ARE READING
The Price of Fame || Prince/MJ
Fanfiction"Everyone has story, but what about mine?" - Rochelle Davis
