1999
Rochelle Davis
"Aww, a dolphin bracelet." My husband played with the charm briefly swinging on my wrist.
"Yeah." I smiled, holding hands with him backstage.
My best friend was always stunning, but tonight's look almost rendered me speechless.
Gold patterns lined up or down one sleeved but long high-neck shirt. Glitter sparkled near the top of his brunette hairstyle, reaching both temples.
A beaming Love Symbol necklace centered the middle of his clothed chest.
We kissed in that green room, having already met Larry King beforehand.
"I love you." He lifted my chin and smiled, almost boring those perfect eyes into my soul.
Minutes later, he walked off to handle the broadcast.
****
Fan questions. Humble beginnings. Musical inspirations. A heartfelt but quick answer for the name change. On and on.
He even slyly called me out.
The Artist winks towards cameras before a commercial break and briefly mouths one phrase: "See you later, Chelle."
***
Once Larry King said goodbye to us and this program ended, my husband almost chased me out of the CNN building.
I had no idea what shifted after the genuine interview, but he was all over me. Kissing. Touches. Compliments. So much attention.
I couldn't even change clothes for bed or wrap my Locs without him staring towards me in the bathroom mirror.
"You're so pretty, mama. I've never said it enough before." He almost blushed.
This was me at the moment: No make-up. An old "Jam Of The Year" tour shirt. Shorts. Wearing a silk headwrap.
"Thank you." I said.
He fell asleep for once, more peaceful than I'd ever witnessed in years.
****
Just days later, headlines drove me crazy:
"The Artist joined VIP access during this year's Versace Fashion Show and invited former Paisley Park dancer Mayte García as his date!"
What the hell? Thoughts panicked without mulling twice.
"I should leave. What is wrong with you?" I'm right here!" I wanted to shout.
"She asked." This man pissed me off more and more.
"And you said yes?" Tears soon reached my eyes. "Why not ask me? We've been through this."
"You know why, Rochelle." He continued.
"No, actually. I can't read your mind. Speak up." I rolled both eyes before long, wanting to pack and leave.
"I couldn't reach you in enough time for the show. It's not like you answer my calls anymore. Work is always first." He ranted again and I pouted my lips.
"Admit it. You love her." I went there. Enough was enough.
"Absolutely not. I'd never argue back and forth with her like this, Ro." My ex was still going. I turned around and quickly packed, just to get the hell out of here.
"Bye." I called outward, moving further down this hallway.
"Uh-uh. Where are you going?" His heels clicked my own steps like a Paisley metronome.
YOU ARE READING
The Price of Fame || Prince/MJ
Fanfiction"Everyone has story, but what about mine?" - Rochelle Davis
