"Any word on new records?" As planned the next day, I interviewed with another press outlet and someone finally cared about music. After taking pictures for the spread, I smiled, answering real questions. At least there wasn't drama this time.
"Be on the lookout for my new album next year." My grin returned as I sat on this loveseat across from the reporter. He was handsome, but his wife owned the magazine to begin with. Unless selfish groupies, I'd never mess around with taken men. Momma would've killed me, even if I still knew to stay back on my own.
"You helped with a Kool and The Gang record recently. What should we look out for with next year's project?" The reporter offered his next question and my mind drifted back to think of a previous studio session. I'd changed the entire dynamic of their song entitled"Misled." from the "Emergency" album, one of my favorites.
It was unfortunate that I never worked directly with the band members that time, but sending my tape of jamming on the electric guitar shifted everything. Before I knew it, various people knocked on my door, so to speak. I'd already learned how to play instruments, but actually, singing and dancing were still my first loves.
Momma dreamed of dancing herself, but marrying Dad and then having children quickly shifted her focus. Back then, even my little sister was still in high school, but she immediately wanted to leave home and kick off her career on"Soul Train." Of course, both Mom and Dad refused. I'd already left my hometown and Mom didn't want my sister to depart without a backup plan. Knowing better, she listened.
"Not to sound arrogant, but I can pretty much create anything that I want. All it takes is an idea and I'm already wanting to work. Hopefully, fans will still enjoy this record." I smiled and answered the reporter, watching as he took more notes.
No more gossip. I was back.
_____
Although my new magazine article had reached newsstands, I could finally visit Prince. He'd still toured all over to promote "Purple Rain" at the time, but made an effort to see me anyway. Once I walked backstage to cool down after that show, someone had already noticed me and even allowed his rare smile to appear.
"It's about time," Prince teased. I didn't care when he opened both sweaty stage arms to hug me, either. Not my first time and surely wouldn't be the last. At least I knew that he was an entertainer. Besides groupies, other folks would've cringed if anyone else arrived musty. I'd been there to some extent as a dancer, too.
"Oh, hush. Your show was great. How are you doing?" I smiled back towards Prince, but sat down on the sofa to place distance between us. There was no other choice. No matter how long we'd known each other, I still learned personal space.
The last time I witnessed one of his concerts, Morris Day and Vanity 6 opened that show. Once Denise introduced herself backstage though, I felt intimidated out of nowhere. Yet, I'd never told Prince, even now. I didn't have time for pity parties.
"Good. You?" Prince now sat back in the make-up chair and draped his arm around the backrest, facing me. Despite this tall mirror layout, I still noticed his short stature. Wardrobe from the show cluttered through this area, but I stayed quiet.
"I'm fine. Just working a lot." Looking back now, Momma always said that reflections never lied to the human eye. Of course, Prince was tiny, but just as powerful for obvious reasons. I could only imagine his childhood years ago. Yet, my voice held back questions with respect. We continued talking as he watched me.
"It's definitely better than nothing, Nik. Let's be honest: most people would kill to have our careers right now." Prince smirked, but still knew better than to act arrogant. He'd come quite a long way from just making music at home, of course.
"I know. I'm not dealing with success all the time, but it's still great to do what I love." I gave my two cents. Prince nodded while still sitting in that chair. Silence fell between us and he even felt comfortable enough to clean his face in the mirror.
"As long as you're happy, nothing else matters." Prince then answered without making eye contact with me and still wiped down his face. Just when I planned to say something else, one bodyguard stood in the doorway to escort him out.
"See you later." I learned my cue to go home, but Prince stopped my boots unexpectedly. There we both stood at the foot of this door, eyeing each other in total silence. There was indeed some unfinished business between us, but I never wanted to talk about our elephant who'd just returned to sit in the room. I froze.
"Why were you there?" Instead of giving me his famous low tone and sauve mannerisms , Prince used this gentle voice to ask me one dreaded question. We hadn't talked about what happened after we first met, all the way back in 1978.
In turn, one suited bodyguard immediately lurked himself away from us, quickly closing the door to leave us both alone. My heart thumped louder. My breathing hitched. Prince watched me with hypnotizing eyes. There was no turning back.
"I put chump change together and flew all the way over to sing at First Ave, but backed out at the last minute because of you." I revealed my truth. Prince faced me with both disappointment and gloom. I'd just let down one of my favorite artists.
"Why would you ever give up?" Prince reached out to hold my hand, but I flinched instead. As emotion washed over me for once, I didn't deserve to stand in the same room as him. This man had already set the blueprint for other young musicians today, all while only reaching his twenty-fifth birthday. I'd nearly idolized him, too.
"I'll never be you, that's why. Even back then, the hometown crowd adored you. How can anyone else compete with that?" For the first time in quite a while, I ranted with tears in my eyes. I didn't even care. Music meant everything, but my ego still pushed. Silence fell between us, but I wouldn't cry near him. I refused.
"Like I said, it doesn't matter if everybody cares about your work. As long as you keep moving ahead, the right fans will show up." Prince offered common sense and I began to leave again, but he stopped me once more. Extra silence soon followed.
"Thank you." I accepted his words and finally walked out of that room. Yet, even as I entered that hallway to leave, Prince glanced over his shoulder as the entourage gathered. Even Big Chick and the other bodyguards noticed me for a moment.
"Nikki?" Prince called gently again. I stopped in my tracks. It was as if we'd returned to the record store, I wore my bell bottoms again and Prince's afro showed back up. Briefly, we'd subsciously stepped into some weird time warp, even if Prince was still with me in this hall. No one else mattered. We just stood together.
"Yeah?" I faced him, trying to smile and avoid tears. Again, there was no other choice. Anyone could've seen me weep over His Royal and snitch to media outlets by morning. With or without emotions, I wasn't stupid. Headlines still could swarm.
Just when Prince wanted to answer, someone else walked straight through these double exit doors. I didn't even know what to think, but this woman glared towards me with the most vacant expression on her face. I recognized her immediately.
Susannah Melvion.
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