It was 1 AM in the residence of Whitney Houston. The low hum of the air conditioning unit echoed throughout the apartment. The whispers and giggles of the novel singer filled the room. She was retelling a tale to her telephone comrade of something she had recently witnessed on television. They were engulfed in a fit of laughter, a habit that had become common to them at this point.
Whitney glanced over at her alarm clock, her heart sinking after observing what the time entailed, "Damn-- Janet, I gotta go. I have a rehearsal for this tour in the morning. I don't want to stay up too late, I know myself, I'll be tired as hell in the morning."
Janet sighed, disappointed. She had hoped Whitney wouldn't look at the clock for at least fifteen more minutes. "I know, you gotta get your rest. Make sure to call me tomorrow after rehearsal."
"Yeah, for sure, I definitely will, or--" Whitney stopped in her train of thought, just getting the brilliantest idea, "Why don't you stop by where I'm rehearsing? You don't have to stay for the whole thing, of course. But come by the warehouse and stay for a little while. And maybe we can go out afterwards? Have lunch or something."
"Yeah, I'll be there," Janet agreed.
"Okay, take down the address, I'll be there from 7 o'clock to 12 o'clock. Come anytime," Whitney said as she recalled the address from memory and made sure Janet took down the address accurately.
"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow, Whit, goodnight," Janet whispered.
"See you tomorrow, goodnight, Janet."
Whitney leaned over and gently set the phone down on the receiver. Her hand burned from the newfound emptiness it felt. For the past week, her telephone had been glued to her hand and ear, for she was constantly indulging in conversation with the other woman. She had secured a newfound friendship with Janet. With there conversation, their bond deepened.
She turned the knob on her lamp and allowed the darkness of her room to engulf her surroundings. The woman fluffed her pillow and eased into a comfortable position for her long-awaited slumber.
~~~
"Drummer, can you switch up the cadence of the beat? I don't want it to sound like the record. Play me something fresh, maybe slow it down. Wanna make you feel something different with this one."
The drummer nodded eagerly in response to Whitney's request. She cued the band to start from the top, and they followed suit, coming in on their musical cues. The drums lead the band, slowing the cadence of the upbeat tempo to 'How Will I Know'. The nuance of the song changed from what sounded like an eager girl with a high school crush to a lovesick, desperate woman looking for any sign that the man she was in love with returned even an ounce of the care she had for him.
She held the mic to her mouth, before she began to sing and spoke, "That's it. I like that."
"There's a boy, I know... he's the one I dream of," she sang following the slow cadence of the band.
During the duration of the song, she dove into her imagination, determined to tell a despairing tale of an unrequited love. She envisioned herself completely deeply head over heels in love. She writes this person love letters. She knows them from their hair follicles to their toenails. She gets excited to hear their voice. The sound of this person's laugh is the beat in her heart. When they smile, it is as if they are completely isolated, and they're smiling their biggest and brightest smile just for her. Yet, she is plagued with the excruciating pain of the possibility of not knowing whether this person feels even an ounce of how she feels back. Her voice bellowed in an augmented emotion, accompanied by incessant yearning. The words told the story, but her voice made you feel it.
~~~
The roaring sound of the band graced her ears as she neared her destination. She came across a set of double doors that surely led to where Whitney had been rehearsing. She turned the knob and slipped into the space, hoping her presence would go unnoticed. The young woman had adorned herself with an oversized forest green graphic t-shirt that encapsulated her figure along with a baggy pair of jeans. She hid her newly cut hair underneath a black baseball cap and a pair of Aviators she slipped from her brother, Michael, covered her eyes.
She found Whitney amid song. Her eyes shut tightly strenuously expressed herself through song. The bellows of her voice took up the whole room. Janet felt moved, while she knew the girl had talent, this was on another level of exceptionalism. To completely change the original context of a song based on the pure emotion you feel when you hear it was something Janet wasn't sure she had experienced before. She was quite familiar with 'How Will I Know' after purchasing Whitney's album and listening to it multiple times through and through. She was quite familiar with the song. She adored the way the song was reinvented from something that was uppity and fun and free, and could translate to such an anguished and dreary feeling.
Janet stood in the back of the warehouse, her back against the wall, observing Whitney and the rest of the band. Whitney had closed out the rehearsal, and everyone had disbanded to their respective destinations. Whitney had stayed behind, engaged in a conversation with a stage director. Janet took her time walking up to the woman, giving them time to finish up their conversation.
"You sounded amazing today," Janet said.
"Thank you so much, girl— where is your hair? What happened to your braids?" Whitney laughed as she embraced the shorter woman's body.
"I just got a haircut... that's all," Janet replied.
Whitney smiled, "You can't change up your hair and then cover it up, let me see."
Janet apprehensively took off her baseball cap and ran her fingers through her short tresses to combat her hat hair and shook it out. Her hair was cut short with large curls that were evident from the work of hair rollers.
"Aww, it's cute," Whitney smiled as she looked at the other woman's hair.
"Thanks, I was kinda looking for a change..."
"Well, you found it, girl. Your hair is very cute."
Janet was feeling a little apprehensive about the haircut. She was desperate for a change, and cutting her hair seemed the most effective way to take control of her surroundings at the moment. After the hairstylist showed her the new hairdo, an immense amount of doubt sank into her heart. She didn't feel beautiful at the moment. Whitney's comment helped her appreciate the change a little bit more. "Did you still want to have lunch?"
"Of course, I worked up an appetite in here," Whitney laughed. She motioned for Janet to follow her and lead her out of the studio and towards her car. Whitney unlocked the door for both of them, and they simultaneously got in the car.
"Now, where are we gonna eat? What are you in the mood for?" Whitney asked as she put her purse in the back of her car behind her seat.
"Mm... whatever you wanna eat..." Janet responded.
Whitney giggled, "Oh girl, you are no help. I'm indecisive, we can eat Italian food, American food, Indian food, Japanese food... I mean it's too much to choose from out here."
"Hmm.. how about.. some soul food?"
Whitney gasped, "Now you're talking! Yesss soul food— Wait, where we gonna find that at out here?"
"I... I guess we're gonna have to make it?" Janet suggested in a questioning tone.
"Can you cook?" Whitney inquired.
"Yes... I can--"
"Alright then, we're going to the grocery storeee," Whitney sang, cutting Janet off excitedly as she started her car.
