Spotlight || MJ/Prince

Spotlight || Chapter 8

1989

Michael Jackson

Fans still packed this large stadium tonight and the last concert of my "Bad" tour ended. Crews members dismantled various types of equipment in all directions. As Bill and other bodyguards still patrolled in the hall, Angie spoke up to answer me.

"Why would you ever stop touring?" Angela barked this question as soon as we stopped trading our pleasantries backstage. Even Frank shook his head while cornering himself near the back wall. An unlit cigar had poked from his mouth.

Even as I faced Angie once more, I rolled my eyes for just a moment now. Other people passed us to avoid this talk. Even Karen had left us alone for the sake of privacy. There was no other choice. I didn't need several people eavesdropping.

"It's time. I want to do other things." I'd spoken up one more time to defend myself this evening. Unfortunately, even my own answer didn't fix the painted lipstick scowl that still etched onto her pretty face. I hadn't convinced her, at least not yet.

On that particular night, Angie dolled herself up with this crop-top and dark jeans. Boots clicked out loud to capture my attention before she even entered this space. Light make-up only enhanced her beauty now. Honestly, she was gorgeous. I hadn't seen Angela look this pretty since we first met, all the way back in 1979.

It wasn't long before we had taken multiple pictures together, all thanks to my photographers. Even Frank and Karen joined in between snapshots to commemorate this night in my life. Angie had caught on and smiled.

"All right, then. I'll let it go, but I'm still proud of you." Angie surrendered in one way or another and tossed up both of her hands. I chuckled, understanding what she meant. If we called a truce, there'd be no argument. We'd taken the high road.

"Thanks. Now that I've got my tour out of the way, let's change our subject. What's this stuff I heard about you working with Teddy Riley?" I folded both arms and still paced this floor as adrenaline remained rapid in my body from the concert. Headlines reported that Angela worked with Teddy to help produce something.

"You're right, actually. I helped Teddy produce Merry Go Round for Guy. At first, we were just jamming in the studio. I started fooling around and played chords for Thriller on my synthesizer. Next thing I knew, we called Quincy for permission just in case and soon had the song." Angela then explained what happened and smiled.

"Impressive." I teased, raising my eyebrow just to mess with her. We hadn't seen each other in quite some time, again, but my own questions just wouldn't stop rolling. Even Frank took away his own cigar and began to chuckle behind me.

"Anything else you'd like to know?" Angie smirked, planning to volley our personal conversation once more. Frank acted nosy for the millionth occasion, but I soon laughed off his gesture. He had been with me for four years as an employee.

"Saturday Night Live, too? I heard that you played keyboards for Prince onstage, but fake fog almost hid away the band." I addressed the rumors and still waited for Angela to respond. Her trademark grin returned as she elaborated details now.

"Patrice Rushen was actually supposed to help play keyboards that night, but this weird scheduling conflict came up. If I didn't hop on a plane, Matt Fink would've had to hold down the fort alone. Matt's legendary, but Prince still wanted two people onstage." Angie shook her head, but remained joyful. I could only imagine.

"What the hell were you two wearing, though? Even I'd never be that flashy with my own wardrobe." I chuckled through my next words, but Angie rolled her eyes once more and folded both arms, seemingly ready to come by with ammo this time.

In backstage footage, Prince and Angie matched gold with black. Yet, these metallic outfits somehow looked extremely tacky. At least in my opinion, their matching wasn't as sharp as I'd hoped. All the same, Angela defended that fashion choice.

"Don't talk about us. We looked really good. You're the one who came up with wearing glitter jackets back to back in '84." Angie had then giggled in return, acting adorable now. It wasn't long before we caught the silly laughter bug soon after.

"I didn't have glitter. Shut up!" Still holding my stomach, I spoke up to hear myself over Angie. Even Frank had walked over to laugh out loud in the hallway and told the security guards out there. Before I knew it, countless people were tickled now.

"Let me get out here before we both give Frank a heart attack or something." Angie settled down and opened both arms to embrace. Despite my sweat from the stage, she didn't care and hugged me. Gentle hints of perfume wafted to my nostrils.

When Angie pulled away from me to say goodbye, I peeked over my shoulder and winked. Her smile prompted butterflies to run around in my stomach. To be honest, I'd felt as if we'd met each other on that iconic Studio 54 dance floor all over again.

Yet, she vanished into the night as usual.