The 80s

Minneapolis Music Awards 86'

It's been really toned down between us since "the incident". That's how I refer to it because I don't actually like to say what happened. I don't know if he's still thinking about "the incident" but I am and I know it's my fault, I know it is. Violence is never the answer. I shouldn't have hit him, I know that. I don't even know what happened. I was just so mad at him and then I snapped. He's hit me before so we're even right? That doesn't make it right but that doesn't necessarily make it wrong either. Right?

However on a good note Prince's hand has healed. He's been playing a ton lately, every instrument he can get his hands on so he can get his fingers back used to playing. He swears he's lost his touch but he hasn't. His perfectionist ass.

He never leaves the studio anymore and to be honest, I've practically knocked about three or four albums worth of songs in the process. I record very fast anyway, Prince is the same. That's another thing we have in common, constantly writing and constantly recording. It's almost therapeutic. We we're talking about it last night while we were cuddled up on the balcony.

We haven't even talked about that day. I tried to apologize again but he just kept brushing me off and saying everything was fine but deep down he and I both knew it wasn't. Even though we acted the same still. I think what's happening between us is still in the back of our minds. We're a little more distance from each other, especially since he referred to me as just a "friend."

I closed my lipstick tube and smacked my lips together. I couldn't do my eye makeup to save my life but I like to do my lips. It's a weird sensation I like it. I'm at Prince's house here in Minneapolis with Naomi and Gigi, everyone is getting ready to go to the show tonight, Prince is getting some special honor tonight. The first charter membership to the Minneapolis Music Academy, which was just established this year or something like that. He mentioned it after we had sex which was a bad idea because he has a tendency to knock my ass out.

Naomi backed into the room, struggling with an arm full of drinks in her hand. "All right he's got water, orange juice, white wine, red wine, and some green soda stuff I don't know." she shrugged, kicking the door closed behind her. She sat all the bottles on the bed and picked up the soda, examining the bottle. It looked like an old school coke bottle and it has this green liquid in it.

"Taste it." I challenged her.

She shrugged and tossed the drink back, smacking her lips to taste. "It's sour...it's like-...like a green apple." She looked the bottle once over again and threw it back again. "It's bubbly."

She giggled and flopped down on the big fluffy chair, and continued to crunch down on her chips.

Gigi came out the bathroom, fanning the air. "I would wait about 10-15 minutes before I go in there and-" She held up an issue of cosmopolitan, which I was on the cover of. "It turns out if I were a sex position. I'd be reverse cowgirl."

I scrunched my face up when the smell from the bathroom hit me so I pinched my nose, to keep the smell out but it somehow got worse.

"What the fuck? Are you rotting on the inside?" I shrieked, waving my hand trying to clear out the smell.

"Oh my god!" Naomi squealed and stuck her nose in her chip bag, trying to invade the smell.

"Close that damn door before you kill us." I yelled. I ran over and slammed the door shut. Gigi threw her hands up in surrender and went to return to her seat. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed Naomi had taken control of it.

"Get up."

"Why?" Naomi furrowed her brows, knowingly.

"You're in my seat."