Exposed || MJ/Prince

Exposed || Chapter 1

1982 - California

Patrice Cooper

I've worked behind the scenes for quite some time. Everything from make-up and hair to fashion designing. If stars needed someone, I was there. Even at the last minute.

My footsteps raced from one location to another almost every day. Limousines and private jets guided me to all kinds of professional engagements.

Award shows. Concert tours. Music videos. On and on. If someone named an occasion, I was probably hustlin' backstage.

Just as I entered the lobby to begin another productive day, the phone rang.

Our blonde receptionist wasn't even around to answer. Desperate to stop the beeping, I hurried around the large desk and picked up.

"Hello, you've reached Canvas Inc. This is Patrice Cooper. How may I help you?" The coffee in my opposite hand almost spilled as I held the phone. Someone would be out of a job tomorrow.

I sat down the coffee and opened up the nearby notepad. Its pen rested inches away. At least someone other than me prepared themselves this morning.

"Good morning, Patrice." Those three simple words departed one of the biggest stars today.

Unlike any other lucky individual, I rolled my eyes when Prince answered this phone.

That musically gifted man knew so much better than to call during work hours. Unless he offered me a professional opportunity.

We met for the first time after "Controversy" released. I listened to his music often and absorbed that outlandish fashion style.

At first, felt shocked by his lewd records and gender bending persona. Just like rest of this seemingly uptight world. Still, Prince seemed wildly refreshing and in entertainment.

"Good morning, but why are you calling so early? I've got a busy day, all right?" I nearly lost cool while trying to answer Prince.

"Maybe I want to work with you for once, Mama." Prince complained to me before long, but responded. I could only shake my head.

Employees in this lobby continued hurrying in all directions. Countless heels clicked along the marble floor.

"I'm listening." I genuinely smiled after drinking coffee again. The absent blonde receptionist returned.

My hand shooed her away during this one phone call. Prince Rogers Nelson wanted attention from me. Not some careless and clueless secretary.

"Well, we're shooting a music video for the "1999" single. I just can't find one good jacket to wear here. Could you please make somethin' for me?" As soon as Prince mentioned the jacket issue, I wanted to go.

Hopping into another limousine felt great as usual. I'd always gain this adrenaline rush.

__

"1999" Shoot

Prince and his amazing band "The Revolution" filmed on this soundstage. Within the hour, I discovered shimmering, purple fabric. There was no other choice but to tuck myself away.

Nothing could distract me in that makeshift work room.

A sturdy table centered this  area where I sprawled fabric and other essentials.  My favorite sewing machine required its own packaging and assembly every single day.

I'd even jotted down neatly printed  body measurements for Prince before my steps walked into the room. Bandaids finally  positioned nearby on this table just for safety reasons.

P needed the jacket immediately after our lunch break here. We ran quite a tight ship today. I still  loved this adrenaline, though.

Filming would start back up and we all needed to get out as if nothing different happened.

Prince would start touring for this exact album soon enough. "The Time" and "Vanity 6" opened these concerts.

On that colorful stage set, two different ladies would even check his hair and make-up just before I'd give him the jacket of his dreams. 

We'd soon launch that last minute fitting process afterwards.

One of my favorite aspects of working with the stars involved basic small talk between intervals. Even if it only lasted minutes.

Time and time again, I'd leave places with a much bigger smile on my face than beforehand. No other feeling seemed better.

At last, I finished the jacket with minutes to spare. Bandaged fingers cuts were now my "battle scars" as usual.

"Hello, again. This is Patrice. The jacket is finished. Should I come back down and give to wardrobe is someone picking it up? I don't mind either option. Oh, okay. Thank you again. I'll see you in a few minutes." I hung up moments later and finished my sandwich at another table in the room.

Nothing other than materials could touch my work station nearby. I've had that rule for the longest time now.

A wardrobe employee and Prince  would stop by soon. I'd watch every detail of the garment  exchange process like a hawk. Rip and even dirt screw ups took place on some occasions. My creative heart broke every time.

Minutes later, Prince arrived with bodyguards and the wardrobe employe trailed behind.

I simply nodded to him and he immediately noticed the jacket on the table. Draped and finished with all its shining glory.

"Here we go. Thank you so much, Patrice." The wardrobe employee wheeled in this  silver clothes  rack without help. I greeted her moments later.

She lifted my garment carefully before taking down one hanger from the clothes rack. Once the jacket hung individually, we all just took a second to gaze.

I'd seen this moment countless times before with other clients. But Prince let down his cool persona and wouldn't stop grinning.

Absolutely worth the bandages.

"Thank you." P kissed my cheek before strutting out right here. The employees and clothes rack followed him once again.

This was my life.