Exposed || MJ/Prince

Exposed || Chapter 8

1982 - "First Avenue" (Minneapolis, MN)

Patrice

Friday launched my first weekend off in months. I grabbed the earliest plane ticket for Minneapolis and caught up with everyone before schedules divided us again. Prince would tour soon enough at this point.

Morris and his incredible band "The Time" just finished their performance of "777-93-11." I've never heard an audience cheer that loudly. For me, the funky and jamming record always woke me up if I needed a good mood at "Canvas."

My dark complexion glowed between purple and blue spotlights fixated overhead. Prince would hit the stage minutes from now.

His Royal Badness always headlined here. The tradition patterned in this venue for quite some time. I couldn't wait.

Right now, I seated with my girls. Their colorful and backless dresses returned. I sat right across from Vanity and smiled with the glass of wine in my hand. Brenda and Susan just chuckled with each other at times.

Bass still thundered in all directions. A disc jockey would help us all groove more until Prince arrived from behind the scenes.

I chose this Leopard print crop top and these snug leather pants. My own hands crafted both garments with the favorite sewing machine after packing for this exact trip.

My wild and curly hair now sprang outwards. Black even painted my nails. Red finally shaded my lips.

When my strapped heels first walked in, Susan almost mistook me for a stranger. As if I became this completely different person.

"Hey, Patrice. You look so good! Did you make this entire outfit? It's hot." Vanity exclaimed and giggled before we hugged.

I feverishly nodded with a smile. Music continued blasting. Voices and laughter echoed.

For this moment, my gaze still absorbed the bustling and joyous environment. I smiled to myself at times, relieved.

I'd seen various parties and nightclubs like this countless times before. Still, it felt really good to not hurry backstage or even sometimes call for time limits every ten seconds.

My presence could finally bask in the moment of a celebration.

In other news, my mind or even voice just couldn't get around to actually calling Vanity Denise.

Our rhyming names would only prompt confusion. She understood and I moved on to just enjoy the night.

We all sat down at an empty table in this location. Morris ordered drinks as soon as he noticed my presence.

This man then hilariously bucked hips while cackling. I soon rolled my eyes as his suit jacket flew up. Jerome puckered lips, watching nearby.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, Prince!" Someone announced the declaration soon enough.

A bright and almost optimistic chords resonated throughout the venue. Lights turned low. The audience members squealed and hollered.

Smoke lifted from the bottom of that famous stage at first, but then cleared on cue for safety reasons.

Each synthesizer chord lifted higher and higher until unexpectedly stopping altogether. Matt Fink was a genius at this point with that brilliant introduction.

This crowd absorbed every moment. I even stood up with the girls to cheers along with everyone else. Morris and the band just shouted while happily tipsy.   

The opening drum machine alone then encouraged me to scream louder than others.  Everyone else followed with love for Prince. 

His Royal Badness would soon bless all of us with an initial performance of "Delirious."

If only those zany and upbeat synthesizer melodies would just begin.

I was no entertainer, but music always shook up my home in the best ways. As I've said, Prince rumbled from my speakers constantly. Especially the record playing right now.

When Prince finally appeared onstage, I sang along without hesitation.

I get delirious whenever you're near.
Lose all self control.
Baby, can't sit still.

Wheels get locked in place.
Stupid look on my face.
When it comes to making a pass, Pretty Mama, I just can't win the race.

'Cause I get delirious!

Seconds later, Prince hurled this tambourine to the crowd. I just laughed out loud. Those  zany melodies started warbling again throughout the chorus.

Prince even acknowledged me out loud  from the stage. I guess that our talk in the dressing room that day actually meant something to him.

I wasn't invisible anymore.

__

The concert ended with one rendition of "D.M.S.R." My body couldn't stop grooving even if I wanted to. Arguably the best night of my life.

When Prince left that stage and walked towards me, my heels departed the floor.

"Thank you so much for coming back. I hope you enjoyed the gig." His talent-induced sweat glued onto me without space. We just rocked back and forth while hugging tightly.

"You're welcome. This has been an amazing night." My eyes hadn't seen Prince this overjoyed around me since I created the "1999" jacket. To be honest, his emotions felt surreal and adorable again.

"Damn, you look good, Patrice!" Once he pulled away, Prince held hands with me and scoped my outfit.

"Thanks. You're a mess, though. I couldn't walk in here looking terrible." My voice  giggled around him for the umpteenth time that evening. At least I wasn't working for this man right now.

"You could never look terrible, Mama. Like I already told you, please stop beating yourself up. Let's just enjoy the night while you're here with me."   Prince shook his head, defeated. My behavior and low self-esteem oddly impacted him.

"Okay." I allowed Prince to drape his arm around my shoulder.  One record I didn't know began pulsing throughout the  venue.

We then spoke privately between that musical stroll towards the dressing room.