"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...
You ever wake from a dream and just lay in wonder? Picking apart every piece of it you can remember? Wishing it was real? Or thanking a higher power it wasn't? It was like that.
I don't remember when I first dreamt of it—the loneliness. I could've as a teen, or even a child, but I don't know. It only started affecting me the start of the new decade. Now I wasn't just lonely in my slumber, but I was missing someone...or something. Some kind of love. The kind that takes over your body, mind and soul.
Sometimes getting to the studio was the only thing to help, on those rare occasions when I'd wake up and couldn't shake the feeling so easily...those times music was the only relief for the ache in my heart.
So what is the answer 2 the question of u What do I look 4, what shall I do? Which way do I turn when I'm feeling lost? If I sell my soul, now what will it cost? Must I become naked? No image at all? Shall I remain upright? Or get down and crawl?
All of the questions in my life will be answered When I decide which road 2 choose What is the answer 2 the question of u?
But when I was over it an hour or so later, I was over it. I had too much of a life to dwell on the idea that I was ready to seriously buckle down and journey off to finding "the one." If there was ever really a "one" out there for me, I figured she'd come around the mountain when the universe called for it.
And being that the dream was now hitting me harder than usual...I should've known...
Friday/April 27, 1990/Chanhassen, MN
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In Paisley Park, there were three types of employees working under me. The majority were strictly business. A lot were avoiding, only speaking when spoken to. And then the minority of them were the friendlier ones, and some I even called "friends." Celeste Johnson was a friendly one. But for some reason I could never consider her a "friend."
"Sorry, I forgot to tell you we can't go out tonight." She wasn't talking to me. She was talking to my assistant.
Both Celeste and I merged into Ada's office at the same time and somehow, she got the floor before me. So I just sat back in the corner picking through Ada's cookie jar as the two spoke. They were lucky I was in a bullshitting mood.
"We're already a week overdue celebrating your promotion, Cel," Ada complained from behind her desk. "No excuses."
"No really. I can't. Ivy's in this dumb play I have to go to."
Every time Celeste spoke the name Aívy, I choked the same. This time I was coughing up the small crumbs stuck in my throat.
"You're so mean," Ada said, then projected her attention towards me. "You okay over there?"
