Exposed || MJ/Prince

Exposed || Chapter 66

Author's Note: vickiwaitingx amoniquebee JLC319 dsversatilewrites ToniJones232 LesaG777

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1987 - New York

Patrice

Brenda and Michael still didn't know who leaked information to the press. My heart shattered with every passing thought.

Meanwhile, Brenda debated coming forward with a television interview.

So many media outlets  harassed with questions that enough was enough.

Of course, Michael dreaded the idea. But Prince completely understood. 

At this point, chaos surrounded that woman for absolutely no reason.

As long as little Nikki wasn't featured on camera, Brenda would do anything to dispel rumors.

In truth, she wasn't just another wild and brainless groupie.

She was a brilliant  dancer who studied Jody Watley and Debbie Allen on a regular basis.

She was a remarkable vocalist who praised  Stevie Wonder and Aretha Franklin.

She was this underrated songwriter who constantly referenced Motown for inspiration.

She was a model who idolized Beverly Johnson and Grace Jones for beauty as well as diversity.

All the while, this maddening press only cared about her romantic and personal choices.

I'd never forget watching Brenda dance on Soul Train for the first time.

Six years ago, I earned the day off from working at "Canvas Inc." Mom insisted considering my notoriously hectic schedule back then.

While flipping through television stations early in the morning, my eyes on Soul Train, of course.

A fresh brew steamed on my glass coffee table as I sat on the couch. My headed nodded when music began playing.

Don Cornelius already introduced the signature "Line." Seconds later, footage cut to show the gray and  shimmering  disco ball.

Before I  could even blink, Brenda appeared. "More Bounce To The Ounce" rumbled from my television screen.

This woman rocked a gray crop top and black leggings. Men and women lined up left and right, clapping along.

White sneakers shuffled to the rhythm as she pumped her body a with the punching, funky beats.

I could already see sweat dripping down her toned stomach. Fellow dancers encouraged this woman to continue dancing. As if she was welcomed into the war.

A wild lion mane swooped across her forehead, shaking with every move. I couldn't help smiling, wishing I could dance as well.

She ended this lively occasion by glancing over one shoulder and winked for the front camera lens.

That now signature black lipstick smile ran right across her glistening face.

And the rest was history...

On the other hand, Michael  released his album  "Bad" and even offered this rare interview for "Ebony Magazine." Right here in New York.

Due to business, I unfortunately couldn't visit him on set. But Jackson almost  frantically promised to stop by.

At least this album and tour finally distracted Mike from the personal drama.

As far as concerts were concerned,  I'd see him right back here in New York next year. I could only imagine what brilliance Michael planned for audience.

As of late, Jackson held sold-out gigs in Japan and Australia. Footage plastered the media time and time again.

Around midnight, the doorbell threw me off. I didn't know what to think.

It wasn't long before I ended up turning off the television at home and closing that bedroom door behind me.

An empty glass of red wine placed on my nightstand for the evening. 

"Mike? What are you doing here so late?" I glanced through that  peephole and barely opened the door while noticing him.

"I couldn't sleep and I'm going back to Australia in the mornin. Could I come in? Please? It's freezing out here. I'll never understand how B copes with snowstorms." Michael chattered his teeth through words. Even his  Gary accent emerged for once.

"Sure." I hugged the robe tied around my waist and allowed Michael to enter the foyer. Awkward silence fell between us despite noise of arrival.

I soon closed the door shut while fire cracked in one corner towards my living room. 

"Thanks." Michael shivered. His Penny Loafers and coat  tracked these icy flakes onto mahogany flooring, but I wouldn't fuss at the moment.

__

"How'd you come here without getting caught?" We sat down with hot cocoa near the fire and my eyes narrowed in the name of confusion.

"Don't worry. Bill and Frank know I'm here. One of my drivers dropped me off at the neighborhood  entrance and I walked down the street."

"You still remember where I live over here?" I laughed to myself. Silence filled the room, but winds quietly  hurled snow outside. 

"Of course I do. Your couch was my bed at one point." Michael nodded, slyly winking. I rolled my eyes before long.

"Just drink your cocoa." I teased Michael before sipping again. Jackson only chuckled in response.

"Fine. By the way, I've checked and the people who work for me had nothing to do with B or the  press chaos. At least I don't think so. " Michael narrowed his eyes.

"Check over and over again if you need to. Somebody in your team  could've done something  and it's not even obvious." I set down my warm drink, filled with tiny  marshmallows.

"All right. That's a really good point, girl." Michael sighed out loud this time.

"You can never be too careful. Especially right now. " I advised. Michael nodded once more, hardly smiling. Silence filled the room again.

"I'm asking people again tomorrow." Jackson whispered. I completely understood the frustration at this point.

My heart ached while I watched Michael stare towards the snowy window.