After nine years of being attached at the hip, Lyric and Prince finally split. Now, on the road to recovery, she learns a new way to view life as Prince is forced to face the music of a song he never wanted to played aloud. Join them as they learn a...
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September 9, 1992 Chanhassen, Minnesota
"I think she just has a crush on me," I tell her. My hand runs down her exposed hip to soothe the emerging jealousy. She's been high strung since she got sent home from the tour, something I didn't even see coming. "Hey, don't worry about her." A knuckle lifts her head up high. I'm honest when I say she doesn't have anything to worry about right now.
Carmen's worries have the potential to be valid even though the spinning of my brain after my last trip to Chicago left her, and every other girl in my life, floating in a wading pool. Having turned eighteen and returning from a Paisley Park funded trip to Egypt, I brought Mayte back as one of my muses. She has a unique yet commercial look I can use to my advantage. She's a sweet one too, but as she gets bolder in her every act, I know she'll rattle the cage. Carmen was already upset I had to pull the plug on her. Mayte's batting lashes after a full residency on the tour left Carmen more unsettled than she already was.
Carmen sighs. She's real cute when she's mad. Those crisp blue eyes know how to get her what she wants and she's a persistent one. If I told her I kept Mayte in my company during my short recovery break in Spain, she'd be stunning enough to stand next to a young Lyric, the one who was a beauty but reeked of puppies and glitter like she didn't have the kind of ass she does.
"You should come back tonight." My lips peck a kiss beneath her jawline, trying to soften her up as her face sits as another one of Medusa's victims. "Come by my crib tonight at nine." Another sigh is her agreeing. "K?" Carmen nods as I let go of her hand. Set free and alone, I enjoy the view of her walking away. What I enjoy even more is the space to be alone with my thoughts once she is gone.
I've had a kicking headache for three days now. A heavy thunderstorm and brain fog killed my mood two weeks ago. I've never felt this way before. When it comes to being lovesick, I'm no stranger to the pain. I'm usually put in the same two stages. I'm sad and then I'm not. This time has been a real kick in the ass. I got home and had a cold, something in the key of having the flu. I hallucinate, thinking I can hear her talking in places I know she would never be. I got bit by the love-bug bad.
That woman is something serious.
She's funny, the kind of funny that comes with corny jokes just to brighten up your day. She's smart, the kind of smart that spits out of the latin terms for every animal she spots. Most of all, she's fine... The kind of fine that wipes you out in seconds once you're between her thighs. You'll see every star of the past, present, and future in her eyes and when her stare accepts you, time stops. I'd lay on a bed of nails in the name of promoting that everyone knows she is the most beautiful woman to walk this planet since Eve, maybe a possible reincarnation.
