1993
Rochelle Davis
To cheer up after jet lag, I found an old cassette tape of my husband tearing up "Erotic City" live.
By the time music faded away, I'd shaken out my curls and jammed for nearly ten minutes.
Even while listening to just one song, I truly missed him, and we were still married now.
My heart. My best friend. My soulmate.
Where did you go, baby? Thoughts left me worried more than ever these days.
____
That Arsenio Hall broadcast turned into an outright musical production after NPG showed up with my husband.
From "Morning Papers" to "Blue Light" and ending through a scarlet rendition of "The Max," that stage overflowed with talent.
After the show, he found me backstage, not even trailing Mayte behind him this time around.
"Not bad," He clicked boots forward and joked in red, opening both sleeved arms to hug me.
"Stop." I laughed, kissing his cheek.
"You're so pretty." He pulled me close in the middle of this hallway, not caring about other people.
"Thank you." I said.
"I would've let you sit on my piano." He referenced the earlier performance of "Blue Light."
"Of course." I smirked at him.
____
We flew back to Minnesota, free.
The final leg of this "Love Symbol" tour, suitably named "Act II," wouldn't kick off until summertime, but he kept working.
Helping other Paisley artists. Studio time for his own albums. Clearly business as usual.
I watched everything, trying my best to support this man during our rough patch.
Even though many headlines still plotted our downfall, I couldn't leave.
Losing him would break my heart.
But then, a bombshell dropped soon after.
My girl Carmen, also known as Tara, was gone.
"What the hell is going on?" I snapped at him. Enough was enough.
"Carmen flew back to L.A." My husband revealed, almost nonchalant.
"And you never told me?" I held my heart, shocked.
"It was her choice." He kept annoying and chewed gum.
"Both of you know that I have connections out there." I defended myself and noted that I could help Tara if she needed more opportunities.
"Lay off it." My husband subtly warned, reminding me of so much. Back in the day, it was his immediate signal for wanting out.
"Did...did you kick Carmen out because of Mayte?" I squinted, hoping to be wrong.
"No. Of course not." He lied with a straight face.
The second leg of concerts required a new opening act this summer, and his own muse was no longer around.
"I don't know what you're doing now, but go ahead." I scoffed, wanting to leaving him alone.
Before I could even walk down the hallway, though, his boots clicked, nearly stomping to follow my steps.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
The Price of Fame || Prince/MJ
फैनफिक्शन"Everyone has story, but what about mine?" - Rochelle Davis
