Media outlets once again slandered Brenda Michelle. I couldn't even fly back to California yet. Brenda fumed and suggested that we confront her management team once more. Outside the agency, paparazzi hounded both of us. Camera flashes snapped so many times and I finished out sunglasses without hesitation. Poor Brenda lowered her curls and faced the ground right after mumbling through her New Jersey accent.
To be honest, I never understood the ridicule. That woman could sing like crazy and dance up a storm. Just when I believed possible conclusions wouldn't enter my mind, everything circled back to the "Soul Train" issues. Two years ago, jealous dancers aimed to bring down that "It Girl." As I've said, Brenda had been blacklisted ever since. For no good reasons, either.
I rolled my eyes and ignored the shouted questions. In the lobby, the blonde receptionist never even glanced away from her post. I walked side by side with Brenda. She mumbled with the accent once more, threatening everyone in somehow. I understood this time. While almost cliché, we'd put so much blood, sweat, and tears into this project. After "Queen Of The Night" premiered on MTV, I thought conditions would change. Nothing happens overnight of course, but I was sadly mistaken.
"What is going on?" Brenda pushed through the double doors. Manager Reggie halted a phone call. Publicist Kelly scowled after looking up from her notepad. Make-up artist and wardrobe designer Nicole folded both arms as usual. I could've easily gagged. Brenda tossed out her hands while facing everyone. I plopped into the nearest chair.
Reggie walked out of the office. Those double doors creaked shut. Kelly scrunched up her face. Brenda raised an eyebrow and those two plunged into another screaming match. I lowered my eyes at this table. Nicole and pushed down the brim of her hat and fished out a notepad of her own, scribbling for whatever reason.
"Stop!" Fed up, I shouted out loud. Heads turned. Brenda yanked off her sunglasses. Kelly turned up her nose. I wouldn't even cringe anymore. Nicole removed her hat and fixed up Brunette hair before watching. Punk Reggie opened the doors just in time. One more round of silence dropped into the office.
I acknowledged everyone by squinting. As if on cue, Brenda cleared her throat and addressed her team. I folded both arms and scowled at Nicole. She turned away like a coward. I pointed for her watch Brenda across the table. She wouldn't look, but I held back an urge to yell. These employees almost resembled children.
"I can't believe you. If you don't want to work for me, quit. Why put me through this foolishness? I worked my ass to get here and you're not helping. What is the problem?" Brenda shouted to everyone but me. The same questions raced through my mind as well.
Why did these people wake up every day and make her career miserable? At most, Kelly and Reggie were supposed to ease the "Soul Train" chaos. Instead, these two ignored everything and allowed their client to suffer. Aesthetic employee Nicole just rolled with the punches. Not once did that woman defend her own client. I felt duped after spending all my time to work with her. Right now, the debating could've affected my payments. If so, I'd leave.
"You're never going to be Whitney Houston or Madonna. Stop acting like you're going to be a star. It's not going to happen. I've told you this, girl. Wake up or you won't find success." Kelly opened her big mouth once more. Reggie and Nicole never even uttered. I nearly placed my head on the cooled mahogany table. Instead, my mind jumbled.
__
California
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Brenda offered a check and I flew back to California at night. Immediately, I soaked in a bubble bath. I deserved this glass of wine. While Quiet Storm flowed, I shut both eyes. I didn't know what to think anymore. Had my own career ended so quickly? I encountered slander by association in one way or another. To the media, working with Prince uplifted me. To the media, Brenda hindered me. Again, I never understood why.
Just when I planned to finally sleep, the phone rang. Amid silence, I walked over and picked up. Despite the late hour, I fake a smile and cleared my throat. Anyone could've called. At the same time, I soon only thought of two people. Prince or Michael most of all.
"Hello?" I questioned, lowering my voice.
"Somebody sounds exhausted." Prince answered me. I laughed to myself. Another round of silence fell between us. I quickly imagined Prince resting next to a nude woman. Yet, my back sat up against the pillows of this lonely bed. Nothing unusual.
As I've said, Prince and I moved on from one another in a physical sense. We just continued speaking on the phone, like this evening. My empty wine glass personified the solitude of course.
"I hope you didn't see the television this morning." I sighed out loud.
"Yes, I did. You don't deserve that ridicule and neither does Brenda. Too much work went into that video, Mama." Prince remained us and I knew he moved at this point.
"Thanks so much, but I don't know what to do anymore. I probably won't get this monkey off my back. Her team is so negative and I'm sure you know that." I admitted the truth without a shaking voice.
"They're all mad because both of you are more talented than them. I told you that jealousy is real in this business." Prince scoffed. I soon nodded even though Skip couldn't see my expression.
