I sighed in relief as my laptop clicked shut and I leaned back in my office chair. It had been another busy day of nothing but filming, photographing, and editing. One would think filming Makeup tutorials for social media was simple. Wake up. Throw on a face. Record and post right? No. Not the case at all in fact, at least not when your livelihood depends on it.
Idly, I strolled into the kitchen of my apartment grabbing a bottled water out of the fridge, while scrolling through Instagram notifications on my phone. It had gotten to a point where I had to permanently turn off my notifications because it simply wore my battery down from the ample amount of likes and comments. I gulped down my water before I even left the kitchen which led me to grab another before I plopped down on the couch. I laid down, resting my head on a pillow as I finally allowed my body to relax. I'd been up since 6AM after only sleeping 4 hours the night before. I stared at my phone, scanning through the hundreds of comments that were quickly flooding the latest photo I had uploaded that morning. The warm LA breeze rushed over my skin from my open balcony as I sunk deeper into my couch. I could feel my eyes getting heavy as I decided to peek into my DM's. I rarely checked them. People still like to send me messages asking me to book appointments to do their makeup, even though it clearly states to contact me via email on my profile.
107 message requests
I glanced over them swiftly, ready to lock my phone and allow sleep to win this battle until one message caught my eye.
@theepreeuh
The name didn't sound familiar, nor did the face though she was stunning. The one sided conversation told me that she had sent me a message before, but of course I paid no mind at the time.
- That tattoo of yours is flawless! Tell your artist they did an amazing job 💜-
I smiled to myself as I looked over at the artwork that peeked out from underneath my crop top. For what it cost me it better be flawless, and the pain too for that matter. The rib cage is no joke. I posted a photo over a year ago of my love symbol tattoo. I designed it myself, and I was incredibly proud of it. The swirls of Paisley intertwined with the symbol, adorned with Purple roses. God knows I love that man. If 12 hours of pain doesn't prove that, I don't know what does.
I continued to read on and nothing could have prepared me for what I saw next.
- Prince saw your work. He wants to meet you-
I shot up from the couch as my water bottle fell to the floor. What the hell? Who is this chick? Who would mess around and send a message like that? What a cruel joke to play, there's no way Prince even knows I exist. Whether she was delusional or just downright mean, I decided to click on her profile and do some digging anyway. Her profile read:
Ria (Ree-uh)
"I don't design clothes. I design dreams." -Ralph Lauren
LA - MN
LA to Minnesota huh? Have we met before? With ten thousand questions running through my mind I scrolled through her photos. They were very artsy. One of those Instagram profiles everyone aspires to achieve. Enticing photos of food at just the right angles, perfectly edited images of her city and perfect "not so candid" shots of herself. I clicked on a photo from one week ago. It was a picture of a sewing machine, her perfectly manicured fingers sewing black and white fabric. The caption read:
"What the Purple one wants, the Purple one gets"
Was she his designer or something? I continued scrolling, desperately looking for more answers. The only other clue I found was another artistic looking photo. She was against a giant white wall that resembled...no. Now I'm just looking for things. Just because it's a giant white building doesn't mean it's Paisley Park. But I had to be sure. I re-read her message as I tried to think of a reply. Prince likes my work... Was she referring to my actual work or my tattoo? The message she sent was from 2 weeks ago, do you think she'd even remember anymore at this point? And if this wasn't a prank, had he forgotten by now?
- Prince wants to meet me? I'm sorry, who are you?-
That's all I could think to ask or say. I laid back down assuming she wouldn't see it for quite some time. Since I keep my notifications off, I stared at our conversation in anticipation. As soon as I was about to finally give my body the rest it needed a message appeared.
- I thought that would get your attention ;)-
YOU ARE READING
A Love Conflicted
FanfictionRiley always wondered why she found his music, or better yet why his music found her. It all became very clear to her that year. His music was just the tip of the iceberg.
