"You should really stop asking me to visit." Chuckling, I whispered to Prince, a man who'd cornered us both on this backstage sofa. His low voice and that matching laugh made me transfixed. If it wasn't for his upcoming interview with Jay Leno, we'd be kissing all night. I've never been clingy, but this moment felt too good.
"Why? We deserve to be adults sometimes." Prince teased, but still offered the truth. I knew better than to disagree with him, even if I'd spent most of time acting as a mother to Jamie. I needed to wind down and of course, Prince understood.
It didn't help that he'd played new music from his upcoming album earlier. Every love song and sexy track had spelled us out. Needless to say, I squirmed, wishing that some cancellation tonight would stop him from leaving me alone for once.
"Get out of here before I unfasten your jacket even lower." I teased, eyeing his chest hair for a moment. Biting my lip, I leaned and gave him my own kiss before a crew member would catch us both in the act. My husband looked too good right now.
"Stop it. I'll be back." this sly man held my cheek before strutting away as if he'd owned this place. His famous footsteps then walked out to greet that studio audience. All I could do at this point was stare towards the television monitor, starry-eyed as if we'd just met. Lust aside, I'd found my everything. My equal.
___
By the time that interview ended, I cuddled Prince. We'd turned back into "kids" all over again. We became two twenty-somethings who'd crushed on each other beforehand. Now, neither one of us had to hide feelings anymore. We didn't care about sex, at least not until later. I swept back his new long hair, just dazed by our own moment.
"How long are you in town this time?" Prince looked up my nose just to ask this question. His rare but adorable smile arrived for this moment. It wasn't long before my heart fluttered. I'd remembered when we met for the first time back in 1980.
"I'm not leaving in the morning. Jamie knows that I haven't seen you." I kissed him, leaning in once more. Silence then fell in this area, but we needed to return to the hotel. If drama hadn't bothered us for so long, I would've already married him.
"All right, then. Did you hear that Mike's putting out a record soon?" Prince sat up and quickly changed the subject. I didn't know what to think, but still laughed after noticing that his hair messed up from laying on the sofa. This talk would be good.
"He's even working with Rodney Jerkins on this one." I winked, looking as Prince smirked for a moment. I chuckled once more, intrigued by his next round of questions. My obvious wink had implied something towards him. I knew.
"Did you finally have the chance to work with Michael on that album?" Prince folded both arms while facing me and titled his head. No matter how his body language played out right, this slight tinge of jealousy from oddly seemed interesting.
"No, but he did say that a few tracks are about me." I rolled my eyes, but knew full-well that whatever records he chose would be amazing. After all, I did give Michael a child and our relationship wasn't perfect, either. Songs were inevitable.
"I'd do the same thing. I've always written songs about you anyway." Prince told me. I nodded, understanding that point. On numerous occasions, I'd written tracks about my relationships. What Michael had done about me wasn't unusual at all.
______
Months later, Michael called me to reveal the thirtieth anniversary of his solo career. There'd be two nights on the Madison Square Garden stage. Celebrities would pay tribute and even his brothers would reunite for the momentous occasion.
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Yet, for whatever reason, Prince wasn't invited to join me and I couldn't even bring him along to see these shows. Even Jamie had been fast asleep when I actually arrived up to see everything, so I visited one of the amazing concerts by myself.
Backstage after the show, I found Michael on his own. His brothers and family had already left for the night, unfortunately. I couldn't even play catch up with Marlon at the time and or joke with Randy about different things. Mike and I were alone.
"Hey, great show." I smiled, greeting him. Michael's famous grin had vanished as soon as we noticed each other for once, but I didn't ask any questions. It must've just been another long night for him, even though the concert had been absolutely incredible. I sat down, waiting for Michael to respond whenever he needed to.
"Thanks for coming, but we really need to talk." Michael cleared his throat, but continued pacing here. I didn't know what to believe. He must've worried about Jamie or something, but I'd still wait for more details. There was no other choice.
"Sure. What's up?" I asked. My mind jumbled with other questions as we stayed in silence together. I could only imagine what ran through Michael's mind right now. Did something go wrong during the show? Only time would tell at this point.
"Please take off your ring." Michael revealed. I frozed, shocked by the request. There was no way in hell that I'd actually listen to him. I'd put up my fight before giving up this marriage. As I've said, Prince and I were still made for each other.
"Absolutely not. What are you talking about, Michael?" I snipped back, but tried not to yell. Nosy bodyguards would've kicked me out by now. If Michael wanted to see me, but then just kick off drama, I would leave immediately. Enough was enough.
"Prince is using you." Michael lowered his voice. He always offered the excuse whenever things didn't go his way. I wasn't going to fall for his words. Prince and I were actually happy this time. If it wasn't my fault that Michael wasn't in love now.
"No, he's not. You have no idea what we've been through." I defended my marriage seconds later. Again, there was no other choice. Of course, Michael never had the right to assume events in my relationships. If roles reversed, Jackson would've lost his mind before long. I knew so much better than to hold back at this time, though.
Michael didn't even say anything else to me and walked out to meet up with his waiting entourage.
