Spotlight || MJ/Prince

Interlude: Forever Mine

1988

Prince

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back. Angel told me. I nodded again, grateful to see her once more. Regardless of my feelings for her, we still held back. I knew that it was better to stay platonic until I stopped messing with other women.

"Okay. I'll be here." I said. Angela disappeared into her bedroom for a moment. At the time, we visited each other during my Lovesexy tour while she worked on another album. Charts never appreciated my girl, but she didn't even care then.

If it wasn't for scheduling conflicts and other responsibilities of course, she would've actually joined me onstage. I knew much better than to complain and sat here in the living area. The television had been pitch-black and now mirrored my own face.

Once Angela returned from that bedroom, I looked up and noticed that she'd changed clothes. Her black bodysuit with matching jeans and dark make-up almost shocked me. We'd just left the Grammys, but she still wanted to paint the town red instead of working. Surprisingly, even Michael and I hadn't won anything that night.

"Ready to go?" I stood from the couch, watching as she teased curls in the mirror one last time. This piano and one synthesizer cornered. This trio of bass, acoustic, and electric guitars clipped onto the wall as well. Personal photos hung nearby.

"Yeah." Angela turned around and grabbed her leather purse from some different corner. For a moment, I found myself watching her move in noir ankle-boots, clicking steps with each passing second. This woman was bad and actually knew it.

On the other hand, framed photography and musical decor of this home proved to me that Angela Powell wasn't just another pretty face in show business. For years, I recognized that dames around me wouldn't even purchase instruments unless these girls knew how to play something. Angel wasn't stupid, even after all of this time.

"What's with the lace?" I questioned, genuinely curious. Not to say that she was a tomboy, but Angela rarely pulled out all the stops to look this good, even if she planned to visit countless red carpet events. I'd never seen her like this before.

"I just felt like wearing something different. Why do you ask?" Angela chuckled to herself, leaving me speechless for once. I'd promised to stay platonic, but she really blurred the chance right now if we kept this up. Coming back to reality, I spoke up.

"Nothing." I could cut our tension in here with the largest knife. Angela Macy had no business looking this good under any circumstances. Modeling should've been a career choice as well as music at this point. There was no other opinion in my mind.

Changing my mind and still knowing so much better than to break my promises, we both left this hotel room before I could shift our friendship forever. If I didn't leave, we'd be in trouble for sure. Honestly, I would've slept with anyone else by now.

____

One of these afterparties was still in full-swing by the time we arrived. Cameras flocked near us as expected. As we posed and smiled together, even holding hands to move through this chaos and noise, my heart began to flutter all over again.

I'd gone from aroused to smitten just seconds after being around her here. It was damn-near unfair. If only I could actually pull myself away from the so-called gigolo life and settle down. If I were to settle down now, she'd be right here, ring and all.

Loud music thumped more and more as soon as we stepped inside. Strobe lights flicked in time with these rhythms, leaving me to clutch her hand as we already went towards the dance floor. Fellow celebrities waved all around us, happy.

"I wrote this song for T." Angie offered one fun fact while dancing with me. She'd referred to "Wishing Well" by Terence Trent D'Arby. I nodded, already recognizing her signature style. Angela's raspy tone must've powered the original demo before she handed over anything to Terrance. Once again, I now found myself captivated.

"Not surprised." I said, still snapping my fingers as the music changed from some DJ booth in this nightclub. Before long, "Skeletons" by Stevie Wonder began playing. Synthesizers for the track prompted Angela to groove again. I grinned.

Despite her daring outfit, Angel looked so adorable dancing and singing to the music of an idol. We'd both met Stevie on different occasions. In turn, Angela had said that it was one of the few times that she'd been starstruck by anyone else.

"I love him!" Angela turned to face me, then raving about Stevie once more. I nearly blushed before long. In the past, Angel mentioned to me that she learned Stevie's music by ear, but picked up technical skills later during time in school.

Just when I planned to respond and rave about Stevie too, Michael showed up out of nowhere. Even someone like myself never expected to party on such a losing night like this, but at least Angela wanted to stop sulking about the award show.

For once, jealousy stood as the biggest understatement when my best friend hugged Michael. Angel and I knew each other for five years at this point, but this moment hurt me. She'd looked elated greeting another man, smiling as if these two were soulmates. My heart shattered, but I wouldn't cry. At least not here in public.

Right then, I'd give up everything to have Angela hold me and smile, even if we never made love that night.