Blue Angel

NOVEMBER

     At Paisley Park, sometimes I'd be walking down the hall and Prince would be coming my way in a casual strut, sending schoolgirl butterflies to eat away at me.

As we'd cross paths on our way to opposite wherevers, my crush would wink or make a cute face. Once, he whistled and pinched my ass in passing. Another time I reminded him not to leave without me and he responded by turning to walk backwards, just so I could see him stick his tongue out in the V of his fingers.

"Don't play," I said pausing. But he only laughed before skipping back around in the right direction. Ever since I let that tongue trace the alphabet in my ocean, I was crazy for it.

In all honesty though, this whole journey did feel like a full ride to "The University of Paisley Park". It offered many teachings and yeah, maybe I had an advantage because I was doing the dean on the low but I observed how Prince was a brilliant teacher to everyone around him.

There was another side to him though. Dude could definitely be mean. It was only a matter of time before he projected his darker side onto me.

The band my agent hooked me up with decided to fall out and their project got canceled. I found out via a call right when I was packing my bag for a three-night stay in L.A. It sucks when you work so hard on something just for no one to ever see it. I was so proud of what I created for them but oh well. It only took an hour to cry out the frustration.

Just as I wiping the last of my tears in the master bathroom, Prince came in. It was around two in the afternoon, his usual "morning". But he had been out all night so he was coming in to sleep.

Without even looking at me, he stripped out of his clothes and jumped in the shower. I had to pinch myself to make sure I hadn't transitioned into a ghost. I was used to an affectionate form of acknowledgment when he'd come home. "You okay?" I asked. But behind the shower doors, he pretended not to hear me.

I kept telling myself not to take it personal but I didn't feel comfortable in his house for the first time.

In the closet, I slowly unpacked my things, feeling unsure. Then Prince came in, towel around his waist. "I thought you were leaving."

Wow. "Canceled," I said sighing at the roughness in his tone.

Hangers screeching across the metal rods, he complained. "This closet is too small."

The closet looked like an upscale boutique. It wasn't small. It just wasn't designed with a "hers" in mind and he was clearly upset I took over a tenth of his space. "I'll move my things downstairs," I said.

"Where did all these clothes even come from?"

"The mall and your credit card." He was the one who handed it to me my second week into my visit. When a month flew by, he gave it to me again and his wardrobe team started crafting things up for me. "I'm leaving soon anyway," I decided, yanking my hanging clothes so they could fall in the open suitcase. "I'll find a hotel so you can have your little corner back for your blue blouses and fat ass ego."

"Whoa," he said holding a laugh and my wrist.

"No, don't touch me. You hurt my feelings."

"Stop." And I was dazed when he pulled my waist and kissed me. Seems he only wanted to give a peck but something brought him back for more, like when you mean to take a sip but you drink the cup dry. It had I'm sorry written all over it. "I'm going to sleep."

Sucking my teeth, I used my elbows to escape him. "Goodnight."

And before he disappeared back in the room, he turned around scratching the back of his head as if he forgot to say it. "Don't leave—okay?"