The Price of Fame || Prince/MJ

The Price of Fame || Chapter 32

1992

Rochelle Davis

Ro,

I miss u. So much.

Please come back home.

I'm rehearsing and trying 2 focus on "Diamonds" again, but the air feels different without u here.

Even sleeping in this bed without u turns me off so bad. Last night, I took this shirt from ur side of the closet and held it, trying 2 cuddle.

I know it's a lot.

I know. I know I know.

U typically rejoice during brand-new years, but life has been an absolute nightmare.

I still can't figure out how 2 save what happened. I'm trying. I really am.

I've left us in a scramble and u've been so strong, holding the chaos back as I walk in darkness.

Baby, take my hand. U shouldn't carry it all on ur back for me.

As I continue fighting 4 control, please stay with me, but know that I can still help u too.

My lady, my best friend, my wife.

I love u beyond words and will stay 4ever grateful.

Eternally urs,

-Husband.

I soon found my husband's letter in this hotel room minutes after leaving Michael's concert. On the other hand, fans or people that Michael knew couldn't visit backstage that evening, but we could still reach out to each other in the future.

"Hey," I sighed, cornering myself onto the bed after dialing Paisley Park. This echoing tone had found my husband after quick rings at this late hour overseas.

"Hey, how was the concert?" At least my best friend seemed to perk up on the other line and ask a good question. We couldn't afford to act glum for long.

"Amazing. There should be a tape out there in the future. We'll watch together because I don't wanna spoil anything for you." I told him.

"Cool. You see Michael backstage?" My husband clipped those words as usual.

"Not this time. For whatever reason, there wasn't a meet and greet planned for this show. He just kicked ass on stage and left." I said, shrugging.

"All right. You coming home then?" My husband kicked up his flirting skills without entirely mentioning the letter I found.

"Tomorrow." I clenched my teeth.

"Mama...." Using one of countless nicknames, my husband briefly whined on the phone. He was surely turning his perfect eyes towards the ceiling in person.

"I'll be back. Let me sleep." I defended myself, but still laughed for a moment. We knew that one of the only ways to stop frustration towards the past few months.

"Okay, I'll chill. Just don't come back to my house lookin' all good with another piercing." He joked in return.

"Who says that I shouldn't." I played back.

"Let me hang up before I get in trouble." He said, chuckling further.

"Why? It's your house." I reminded him.

"Keep up this act and I'll book a flight to get your fine self. Right now." He lowered his voice even more, sending me chills.

"Go away. I'll be back." I messed with him, hanging up first.