Cherry's Dawn || Skipper and Monty

Cherry's Dawn || Chapter 4

Author's Note: First, I'd like to thank ShonaShaniece for writing "Beautiful Katastrophe." Reading this very story has given me enough inspiration to finally update this story in particular. I've just started "BK" and you're amazing, sweetheart! Also, apparently I've found Vanity so intimidatingly gorgeous that I spent quite a few minutes searching for the right picture to insert. Lol! But in all seriousness, rest in peace, love. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy this everybody!

==

MONTY

Spring 1985

At this time, "The Lost Dragon" premiered, but I had no patience or time to even see it in theaters. I'd spent most time these panicking over that Soul Train hoopla and barely visited the studio, which made me itch to no end. There'd be no better feeling than immerse myself with chords and lyrics, but loaded career fixing every other minute began to swallow me whole.

There were definitely times when I'd drink coffee in the morning, but days of the week just blurred together now. I hadn't bothered to doll myself before meetings anymore and slumped into conferences with the most groggy but professional voice maybe anyone could muster.

On a rainy day, I sipped coffee as expected and mumbled to Nikki, my first and only makeup artist. Her drenched yellow poncho rested on the grey rolling chair and definitely soaked her seat. She didn't even care. Both of us exchanged tired looks. Kelly, my publicist, and Reggie, my manager, whispered incoherently to different image consultants around the wooden table.

My vision blurred for the hundredth time as I look down at some tabloid. My name had slandered on the front obviously I didn't even bother looking over the magazine's name again. Just when I prepared to clear my throat and obviously announce the end to this monotonous meeting, Reggie's second office phone rang. He'd set up a practice here in California and of course I understood given the shift in my career four years ago.

Yet, I slowly began to yearn for emergency meetings that involved hot-coca rather than lukewarm Dunkin Doughnuts coffee. I'd insist on all of us sporting ugly sweaters just to spice things up. New York flakes poured down from the sky without ease just days before Christmas.

On the fourth ring, Reggie picked up. A dragged cigarette already found its place in the ashtray. My eyes narrowed as I folded my arms and listened to his every words Otherwise, silence trapped the office between its teeth and I found myself suffocating within this massive but now tedious walls.

"Reggie Bradshaw speaking." he gnawed mint gum too early in the morning, but I couldn't blame him. If I held back, we'd be in here throughout the day. I rolled my eyes dreading the reality of missing beach waves or palm trees under a warm yet comfortable sun.

Even my heels cramped too much this morning as I continued listening to Reg. As always, his slight New Jersey like my own at times. I shook my head drinking the lukewarm coffee once more when a one name spilled out of his voice and forced my ears to perk up. Even Nikki looked my way, bucking her eyes underneath a hat as usual.

"Vanity? As in Vanity and Prince?" Reggie squinted. I'd realized that he'd been on the phone with Bob Cavallo, Prince's manager, oddly enough. I didn't what to think of Vanity's management at the time.

Shit! I thought to myself.

"It's for you." Reggie and I swapped chair before long. I'd excused myself while getting around the table and somehow found enough courage to actually my nerves around Denise, Vanity's real name. Skipper had informed me over a phone call while we were still "good" with each other. I'd say the exact thing same now, but with Skip, anything was possible.

"Hello?" I tried my very best to sound perky or at least nonchalant during this phone with her. Like I've said, this woman had been so breathtakingly beautiful, I found myself still intimidated despite her calm nature.

It seemed that everyone else at the table occupied themselves while Denise answered. I'd kill Skip whenever we saw each other even talked again. My nails drummed nervously against the wooden surface as I listened to the most beautiful creature in the world greet me.

"Hey, baby. How you doing?" she seemed to joke with me now on the other line. glimpses of a drunken night flashed through my brain within seconds. Skip and the crew joined in.

I'd never forget one particular moment where Vanity and I actually exchanged sloppy kisses outside near the balcony of our location. The next morning, I swore to Vanity that activities never escalated beyond that, but she kept other thoughts. This little squabble had turned out to be sort of inside joke between us. Affectionate behavior during phone calls only scratched the surface. In the end, I'd been scared of her for nothing. As I've mentioned, Skip and I barely talked now and his life was none of my business anymore.

"Sexy mama! What's going on? Congrats on the movie, Betty-Boop." I laughed honestly for the first time all morning that day. Denise just chuckled back listening to me now. "As much I'd love to catch up. we're in still in a crisis with that Soul Train bullshit!"

"Thanks for your love, but Soul Train's why I called, actually. What the hell, B? Are you okay?" Denise asked with reasonable frustration just like me.

"I still have no idea what's going on because all this press release bullshit and no one believes me. I can't even work in the studio right now." I pushed back my curls now.

"Damn." my baby cursed. "Well, keep your head up and just call me when you've got a chance, okay? I'm worried, gorgeous."

"Me, too." I sighed. "Me too." We soon hung up. I rubbed my temples and groaned out loud. Confused expression form everyone else scattered the room, but I didn't even care.