"A tale of obsession through the eyes of a fanatic."
Every tomorrow is a bold question mark for the motherless child Ivy Valentine. But one constant in her life that always offered smiles and hope was purple music. So one day, she decides to write...
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The night before was sleepless. I just tossed and turned, thinking about my first day in Paisley Park. At one point, I got out of bed and rummaged through the moderate selection of clothes I had. Business casual... I chose a black and cream striped shirt, and white capris. My wedges looked best with it.
Celeste told me to be there at nine sharp, and I made sure to call the taxi hours in advance.
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This wasn't my first time riding up to the complex. I had once before with my friend Amber, pretending I needed to see Celeste about something important. Instead, we were met by a locked gate. This time, it was wide opened, so I had the cabbie drive through.
Being that close to the building, brought me in awe. It wasn't sky-scraping tall, but very grand in size. I read in an article it was altogether 65,000 square feet. White squares patterned the exterior, and the front doors, an electric blue, were squared away in glass, but kind of tinted, so I couldn't see much inside but another set of doors.
While I stood there gawking, this tall guy came to greet me. "Can I help you?"
"Oh, hi. My name is Aivanni Valen—or Ivy Valentine maybe they told you. I'm here for-"
"New hire, yes. Come in." He wasn't the friendliest dude in the world.
"And your name is?" I asked, following him through the foyer. But he didn't even answer!
As soon as I walked in, I could feel Prince's presence. I imagined the heavenly scent even belonged to him, but it was surprisingly not as flashy as I expected. It wasn't flashy at all, actually. I pictured deep purple walls, and gold carpeting and murals painted everywhere... but the color scheme was mainly white and gray.
Judy, the lady who'd be training me, was sitting behind a desk and upon first look, seemed super nice. As she held a phone to her ear, locked in a conversation, she made sure to hold up a hand for my first welcome.
