"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...
No one even said anything. Deondrea didn't question it and Nessie failed to have an outburst. They loaded Ada in the back of the car and we walked off in silence.
Driving home it was still quiet. I think we all feared we may have been defeated. You know, like when your team is losing and you no longer got shit to say? It was scary to think Prince let us down. Terrifying for me.
But how? I was fighting with myself. He's always with you. True. I wasn't a clingy girlfriend but Prince hardly ever let me out of his sight.
"I wonder what she's thinking," Deondrea said from the backseat. "She's driving one of his cars and can clearly see you're driving one too."
Prince's BMW was parked in Paisley's garage when I left. It was right next to this Jeep. So again, I knew she was lying about her previous whereabouts. But I still couldn't take in the idea of Prince handing her his keys. "He's not stupid," I said out loud. "There's no way he'd give her his car knowing she was going to the same place I'd be."
The girls didn't react. A quick look to my right, Nessie was asleep, a quick look up in the rearview, Deondrea was unbothered gazing out her window. Whatever. So I continued to comfort myself. She's crazy. I turned on some music. A classic copycat. Can't let the man go so she goes out and buys a car just like his. Scowling in the side-view mirror, I kept an eye on the yellow BMW on my tail. How could you blame her? Who can blame any of his exes? The dick is a hard habit to kick! These chicks need a check-in to rehab.
"So how do you know Prince?" This back and forth shit in my head had to stop. I lowered the music just enough to accommodate a conversation. "You've met him or..."
"I don't know him as well as Ada and Nessie but we're social," Deondrea answered. Then there was a pause.
"Social, like you hang out sometimes?"
"Yeah but I haven't really seen him since last summer. I was lucky to be hanging around when he decided to shoot a bunch of film for his music videos."
"Oh." Lucky bitty. "Which ones?"
"Well, I ended up in Gangster Glam and Get Off, the House Style one that was actually shot in his house." Oh, so she lies. "I wanted to be in Organ Grinder too all bikini and glittered up in that cage—but unfortunately my body was too much to handle for the director."
"Sucks. That video was my favorite off the tape." The visual EP actually ended up getting stuck in my VCR that summer.
"Yeah. Sweet lady. But she went for the athletic bods. My build is more don't-touch-my-damn-donuts."
I laughed. "Gangster Glam looked fun to shoot though."
"Girl, it's still the highlight of my life. That night after shooting in front of Glam Slam, we all went back to his crib and just chilled all night. Prince was so damn foolish. That was the first time I saw that side of him." Again, another annoying pause.
"What side?"
"The comedic side. He's hysterical. I never knew. The guy doesn't do interviews so...it was nice to see him just laid back, cracking jokes and having a good time among friends. All of them are funny, you know? NPG..."
Prince's band still felt the cool kids I couldn't sit with.
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