Spotlight || MJ/Prince

Spotlight || Chapter 4

1982

Angela "Angie" Powell

"I bought your album, I'm sure you've heard the recent headlines, though." I called Michael one night and raved about "Thriller" like everyone else in the world back then. We hadn't talked or seen each other in quite some time, especially since Michael and I both worked on different projects these days. Meanwhile, I still remembered when one of our late-night phone calls cut off two years ago. I wouldn't mention that shock with this new conversation. I still knew better.

When Michael officially released his new album, I actually wore a disguise to visit my local record store. After someone recognized me out of nowhere, rabid fans battled and mobbed with various questions. Even then, I nearly got arrested for wanting to fight back when this random white girl uppercut my nose. The store manager intervened before the police tried to slap handcuffs on me. Folks gawked.

Headlines swarmed about the store encounter until my own management team finally shut everything down. Looking back now, it was a miracle that the parents of my juvenile assailant never even filed charges. My mother sued as well, but that was one crazy point in time. I still cringed about what happened, even to this day.

"Thank you for the support, but I'm really sorry about your nose." Mike spoke up on the other line. His voice whispered kindness. I appreciated his sympathy for obvious reasons, but planned to offer my two cents anyway. My bedroom lamp flickered.

"I've already healed, but don't worry about me. It's not the first time that someone fought with me like that." I offered my own truth soon after, drifting back to when girls used to bully me in high school. I didn't cringe about memories anymore.

"Doesn't make what happened to you right. Violence is a crime and everyone deserves to be treated with respect, especially you." Michael lowered his voice for once, prompting me to listen more and more. He had soon put his foot down.

"Thank you for the reminder. I know what you mean, Mike. Just understand that I still can handle myself. People aren't always gonna respect you, no matter how kind you actually are." I remained realistic, staying on the phone as this night continued.

"Of course. Now, can I please ask you something off topic?" Michael finally changed the subject and I nodded, all despite the fact that Jackson couldn't even see my own facial expressions. We had stood in completely different places tonight.

"Sure." I sat down on the edge of my bed now, still planning to speak with Michael in one way or another. Outside my bedroom windows, moonlight beamed more and more. Michael then cleared his throat and I still waited for him to respond now.

"I read something about Prince not that long ago. Have you crossed paths with him before?" Michael revealed his question and it wasn't long before the biggest smile crept onto my lips. I'd wondered how Michael felt about my one of my other peers.

"Yeah! We actually met for the first time two years ago. I was backstage and Prince opened the "Fire It Up Tour" for Rick James. What's your question?" I could only imagine what Michael thought about this time. I kept up my own excitement.

"Did you really play electric guitar for The Time?" Michael offered his reasonable question and I soon cleared my throat to explain what happened in one way or another. Memories of my own recording session with Prince quickly flooded back.

"Yep. Prince wanted me on the 777-9311 record. When he cued me in, I jammed until that tape ran out. Morris's album version only gives about three minutes worth of what I did." I laughed, remembering how Prince cheered in his own way. His chants weren't on record of course, but I would never forget that particular night.

"Congratulations. It must've been intimating, though. Playing together probably wasn't easy for you." Michael said. I prepped to defend myself as we continued this conversation. I didn't even care about the late-hour. We were both awake anyway.

"I held my own. Don't worry." I stood my ground, knowing that even someone like Prince couldn't intimidate me. I'd crafted my own music long before him and would continue working hard. No one, not even Prince or Michael, would slow my hustle.

"What instruments can you play?" Michael kept his mind on music, of course and for the first time in a while, we didn't feel awkward anymore. I cleared my throat, planning to run off the mouth, jokingly. He would appreciate my so-called listings.

"Let's see: Electric guitar, bass guitar, acoustic guitar, keyboards, piano, synthesizers, and Stevie taught me how to play the harmonica for this new album. Do you have any other questions?" To be honest, I felt extremely proud of myself.

"Wow, I always knew that you were talented, but did you plot to steal Prince's career or something? Jeez." Michael chuckled on the other line. I returned the humor to him. I'd learned these instruments in both high school and college.

"Michael, I would never steal anything in this business, but he's definitely one of my inspirations." I answered. Thoughts of Prince showed up in my mind. I hadn't seen him in quite some, either. His "1999" tour with Morris Day and Vanity 6 traveled everywhere. Fans were chaotic, praying to His Royal Badness with a crew.

On the other hand I still needed to finish my own work in the studio. We'd hopefully see each other on the road or somewhere else soon. To be honest, it wasn't like Prince to lose touch with me, even though we still didn't meet up all the time.

"I'm glad that you two respect each other, but just be careful." Michael offered his advice as if I didn't even know that Prince fooled around with other women. We were close and he even admitted feelings for me last year, but we still remained friends. I wasn't even stupid enough to fall for bullshit. We kept distance, knowing better.

"I know. Good night, Michael." I wasn't angry with him, but we couldn't stay up for the rest of that night speaking about Prince, or my own possible love life. It was none of Jackon's business. I hung and went to sleep, planning to work by morning.