Well...there's go one truth. After sharing his little secret, Prince disappeared from our silky tent, heading towards his bathroom, leaving me cold and lonesome. Meanwhile, a flock of realizations began stampeding through my brain.
That's why he told me in the elevator that he wanted to talk about the universe—because I once wrote him 'I hope the universe brings us together.'
That's why he told Mrs. Elsie he met me years ago in June. How did I not notice that?
And probably why he looked like he wanted to kill Ian when I showed up at the theater to see him and his "Dearest Analia" together.
And maybe he's so "everything and nothing" because he still thinks of me as a troubled foster kid. There's probably a delicacy about me. I've been through enough to only get hurt again, and Prince seems to have a decent track record for breaking hearts.
Questions and theories multiplied by the millisecond. And Prince was taking forever and a week to return. Maybe he didn't want to.
Thinking up a to-ask list, conditions down south were growing impossible to ignore. It was now cold, damp and uncomfortable. After rolling carefully off the bed, I checked the sheets with eyes and hands, looking for any spots I could've made. Was that even possible? The crotch of my pants was a little damp too. I felt so gross.
When the bed checked out okay, I actually left the room. As bad as I wanted to stay with Prince, I wanted a shower more. So I went back downstairs, and locked myself in the Jack and Jill bathroom.
For sure, my body felt somewhat enhanced. My lips plumper, my breasts more perky, my skin more sensitive to touch. I wasn't 100% sure if I could trust myself to sleep in his bed. The worry wasn't even whether I was strong enough to push him away. It was me. I could see myself the aggressor, and Prince failing at self-control. So no. I would have to sleep alone in the bed of cream and gold.
~*~
Saturday/September 21, 1991
In the windowless room, at first sight, I caught my watch laying near my elbow. The room was also clockless. It was 12:43 p.m. Time to get up!
Dressed in an all-black bodysuit, I threw on a sleeveless plaid shirt for color, dominantly red, leaving all the buttons undone. It had a boyfriend fit, so I tied it up in the front, honoring Prince's preferences. Lastly, I slipped on my block-heeled ankle boots and was off to the kitchen.
On my way, I took a detour to the living room to find something to jam to. Out of all the choices, I chose the man of the house himself. I put the Parade record on.
Everyone come behold Christopher Tracy's Parade
The first thing to perk me up was finding Bisquick in his cabinet. The box was still sealed, making me a little hesitant to break open the flap. Let me figure out what I'm doing first. In the fridge, I found the rest of the ingredients to make some pancakes. Strawberries included. And tucked behind a clear door was cream cheese. I had everything in desire, so the Bisquick was mine.
In the last month, I had been on a baking kick, and making my own frostings and such was my favorite part. So with the cream cheese, sugar, a touch of vanilla and some milk, I made a glaze.
I wanted to be cute and serve Prince in bed. A stack of five pancakes weighed on the plate, encircled by chopped strawberries, as full ones topped it off, all sticking in the glaze overflow. I made it look real IHOP fancy, completing it with a tall glass of orange juice on the side. All I needed was a tray.
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𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧
Fanfiction"A tale of obsession through the eyes of a fanatic." Every tomorrow is a bold question mark for the motherless child Ivy Valentine. But one constant in her life that always offered smiles and hope was purple music. So one day, she decides to write...
