Cherry's Dawn || Skipper and Monty

Cherry's Dawn || Chapter 11

Author's Note: I had a completely different chapter idea at first, but immediately scrapped it after watching videos Prince on stage for research. This chapter takes place after one of the best performances in Grammy history. If you don't believe me or just haven't seen it before, I've inserted the video. Enjoy!

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February 1985 – Grammy Awards

SKIPPER

I marched backstage feeling like a champ sitting on top of the goddamn world. Big Chick and everyone else hurried to follow my every move, but I stopped and blushed at the sight before my eyes. Clearly fresh off the set for "Soul Train," Monty smiled from end to end in a black and glittered one-piece. Belt bottom type pants of the suit hid the shoes on her feet.

I instantly closed spaced between opened my musky arms to her without shame. My entourage all surrounded us, but I didn't even care while she hugged me right back. I smiled against those darkened lips and kissed her softly, prompting hilarious coos from Jerome and others.

She held onto my face, sending a chill down my spine while I looked. Pretty mama smiled at me again just before speaking in a whisper.

"Hello, Mr. Grammy winner." she joked I laughed with everyone else. "Why did you run off just now?"

"I actually hate these things, remember? Don't you feel trapped? It's all superficial." I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck.

"It's celebrating music. What's suffocating about that, Skip?" My nickname rolled off her tongue as usual and she chewed her bottom lip, but somehow grinned at me all at once. I'd never felt so high in a woman's presence, especially in public.

I could only shake my head and lead us both of out this. If I won "Album Of The Year" and whatever else, some other fool would need to accept on my behalf. For now, as cliché as it seemed, I'd spend time with the most beautiful girl in the world.

__

"So, what's with the getup, mama?" I asked sitting on the sofa at Monty's penthouse.

"Your manager called Don right after I finished taping and a limousine showed up before I could even change back into my other clothes. Do you like it?" Monty smiled again. I leaned across the sofa and kissed her, biting my lip after pulling away this time.

My voice lowered and I reached out to smoothly touch her arm with my fingers. "What do you think?"

Mischievous but soft laughter escaped just before she leaned to kiss me. While our lips were only inches away from each other, the phone rang. I rolled my eyes almost instantly after pulling away from her and picked on the phone on a glass coffee table across from us. Monty smirked and folded her arms.

"Hughes residence?" I rolled my eyes, but grinned watching Monty snicker like a child.

"Prince, what are you doing at Brenda's house?" Michael asked me on the other line. I'd turned the phone away from me and mouthed nervously to Monty nearby. She only shrugged and I shook my head before talking to Michael again.

"Why are you acting like a boyfriend? She's a grown ass woman." I questioned Michael now. My voice had lowered.

"Don't you realize that she's a person? Stop acting like she'll just sleep with you on call." I rolled my eyes again listening to Michael. Monty sat under her feet on the couch.

"I love her." I fumed. Monty squinted this time at the anger in my voice. "Don't you dare tell me I'm wrong because you're nor perfect either, Michael."

"I'm not perfect, but you're a dog." Michael grumbled on the other line. "What respectful man sleeps with colleagues. Almost every woman you've signed ends up being your ex-girlfriend or something. Don't you understand the difference between business and pleasure? She deserves someone better than you."

"Oh, please!" I scoffed. "Stop preaching before I throw up. You're the same guy who probably gets drunk before speaking to a woman. Get the fuck out of here with that."

I looked back to see Monty gesturing for me to give the phone. Of course, I listened and switched places with her on the couch. My eyes moved back and forth watching my baby pace during this conversation. She pushed back those short curls, letting them fall back into place. Her black outfit continued sparkling through a glowing and orange sundown.

Up went the antenna on her phone. "I'm sorry, but what give you the right to ask about who I see and don't see, Michael? Like Prince said, you're not my boyfriend...." Back and forth, they debated. At the same time, I could only hear Michael grumble through static on the other line whenever Monty stopped talking. Anyone could've easily picked up popcorn for this shit.

I never felt so relieved when Monty finally slammed the phone back down.

She'd plopped back onto the couch beside me and rubbed her temples in circles. I rubbed her back, slowly unzipping the back of her outfit. Not once did she flinch at my touch when I kissed her skin, alternating with the touch of my palm every so often.

"Should I stop?" I asked whispering.

"No." she mumbled staring into her lap. Manicured fingertips only rested on her temples now. I kissed her back again.

"I love you." I whispered once more.

Monty stopped arching her back and held my face just before another kiss. By the look on her face she'd given after we pulled away from each other, no one could tell me that she didn't feel the same.