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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March 9, 1993 Los Angeles, California
"And then I found out I was pregnant," I shrug in the backseat of the limo.
The vehicle only consists of me and Tupac... And my flies on the wall, his own group of friends driving behind us in a separate car. Our conversation didn't start off this heavy. In fact, we were just building on a joke he made following his rejection of a romantic relationship with me. His proclamation of love and respect for me warmed my heart as he vowed to never sleep with me, stating it'd be a selfish act on his behalf. To know how attracted he is to me comes as a mix of flattery and expectance. Our chemistry makes too much sense. Tupac's honesty of his plans for the next few years contribute to the authenticity of his reason for decline. I respect it and I appreciate it.
He's right when he says I deserve a man who would go to the end of the earth for me. Not a man who wants to, but a man who will. A man who is ready, willing, and able.
In the midst of us hitting home as we share some of our deepest secrets, I ended up spilling the biggest secret of my love life story and so did he. I finally told him the punk he was trying to coach me through was Prince. Remaining loyal, he stood firm on his previous expressions about my situation. Traffic is backed up. We have plenty of time for me to thoroughly explain.
"So, it's a little more to that than just wanting some kids," I finish.
He nodded his head. "But you're strong. That's the thing about Black women, y'all are the strongest humans in the world. You're still standing. You still got your career. You still got that twinkle in your pretty brown eyes."
I feel special. I feel seen. I feel acknowledged.
"It's gone happen when it's supposed to. You know it's supposed to, just not when. You gone be a'ight."
To hear small someone talk to me like that and they weren't one of my girls, it felt feels really fucking nice. I've known Tupac for some time bow but over the last year, he's became my little big brother. He's a great voice of reason to others, though he struggles to take his own logical advice as he continues to act strictly on impulse. It's nice to have a friend that I'm that comfortable around and know for sure that sex won't ruin our friendship.
Ignoring my flushed cheeks, I point out of the window. "We're here."
My gaze snaps as I turn on the entertainer I'm paid to be the moment the door to my limo is opened. Stoned out of his mind, my date walks on the clouds alongside me, though my place in the clouds comes from the ego boost he provided after dropping the right weights from my shoulders. The omission of Prince anonymity solidifies my moving on. He's not my secret anymore. He's a past experience...
A past experience who remains omnipresent as My Name Is Prince kills the speakers lining the carpet. I like this song. I don't love it but I like it. I bob my head to the music while I follow closely behind Tupac, the two of us protected by Mike and Ike. My hair is pressed and curled to a flowing near crisp, settling on my neck. The auditory reaction to my presence becomes intelligible noise. The moment we settle of the carpet, being gifted our ruby ribbons in support of the latest epidemic killing people of color, we are approached by a field of reporters. I pick who is the first one to have my time.
