Dreams [PRN]

chapter twelve

A few days passed, and the tumultuous feelings from that night slowly settled into a quieter, though still persistent, murmur in the back of my mind. I focused on settling further into my new life, channeling my energy into making my apartment truly feel like a home. On Saturday, I decided it was time for a deep clean—a physical way to cleanse and organize my space, which I hoped might mirror in my emotional world.

As Paula Abdul's "Forever Your Girl" played energetically through the CD player, I danced around with a duster in hand, a scarf tying back my hair as I moved from one task to another. Dressed casually in comfortable home wear, I moved energetically around the apartment, dusting, sweeping, and reorganizing. The music made the work feel lighter, and I found myself singing along to the familiar tunes,

My phone rang just as I was scrubbing the kitchen counter, the sound slicing through the pop tunes. Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I picked up the phone, pressing it between my shoulder and ear as I continued my cleaning. It was Prince.

"Hey," his voice came through, sounding cheerful and warm. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important?"

I laughed, glancing around at my half-cleaned apartment. "Just a bit of morning cleaning," I replied. "What's up?"

"I've been thinking," he started, pausing briefly as if choosing his words carefully. "I know you've been seeking some independence, getting settled and all, and I completely respect that. But I also can't help but think about how well you danced the other day. It left quite the impression."

I paused in my cleaning, the compliment sending a warm flush through me despite the cool foam of the cleaning spray on my hands. "Thank you," I said, genuinely touched by his words.

"So, here's what I was thinking," he continued. "Why don't you come back and dance with me and my choreographer? I'm working on a new project, and I thought you might want to be a part of it."

I felt a surge of excitement at the invitation, mixed with a touch of apprehension. The thought of returning to Paisley Park, especially for a dance project, was both thrilling and daunting. "What kind of project?" I asked, trying to sound casual despite the racing of my heart.

"It's a dance piece I'm putting together with my choreographer," Prince explained. "I thought it would be interesting to see how you'd do dancing with us. Just to see how it goes. No pressure. If we find that we work well together, I'd like to offer you the opportunity to dance with us more regularly. And of course, you'd be paid for all your time and contributions."

The offer was both exciting and daunting. Dancing had always been a personal outlet for me, a way to express emotions that words could never capture. The idea of doing it more professionally, especially with someone as respected and talented as Prince, was an opportunity I had never imagined might come my way.

"That sounds amazing," I found myself saying, the words out before I could fully weigh the gravity of them. "I'd love to give it a try."

"Great!" Prince's voice was filled with genuine enthusiasm. "I thought you might. We're planning to rehearse tomorrow afternoon. Can you make it?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

I glanced around my apartment, already mentally rearranging my schedule to accommodate the unexpected invitation. "Absolutely," I replied without hesitation. "I'll be there."

"Perfect. I'll send a car for you tomorrow then," Prince said, his voice warm with anticipation. "Looking forward to seeing you dance."

"Me too," I replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside me. "Thanks for inviting me."