The Ballad of Joey Coco

Chorus

Present Day '86

"Camille?"

Hyperventilating, she rolled her head across the floor and looked at the man desperately calling for her. Seeing abstract lines of agony painted over his beauty, a golf ball of regret sat in her stomach.

Prince tried to sit up but winced and gave his back again to the hard underneath him. And then he looked at her once more. "Camille?"

No reply came to her. The inward corners of her eyebrows lifted and she started to cry again. Tears, dirt, and blood messing her face as she cried out in pain. Everything hurt, most of it radiating from inside where the wildfire was dying down.

"Listen to me..."

Turning away, she looked heavenward and sobbed, trying to wipe it all away with the sleeve of her jacket.

Prince reached for her and scooted over to be closer, sneaking his bleeding hand in her hair. But she wanted to hide. She pushed herself into him, fitting her head under his chin and letting her leg go limp over his hip. The neck of his sweater was now stretched and worn, exposing his skin to allow her nose to rest against the scratched apple of his throat. Amid the hurt, she found comfort there.

The world outside still stormed. Rain beat against the stained-glass windows and light continuously flashed through as if God were playing photographer. After 12 twelve years of dreaming, this was a Kodak moment after all.

"I'm sorry," Prince said, but Camille didn't budge. His humming words came to her as dead air. "Camille... I don't live here alone."

It was like peeling a scab.

"We have to get off this floor."

She bled with his words.

"Camille?"

Suddenly, their bodies jerked at a deafening pop of thunder, as if the bolt of lightning stabbed through the roof and zapped them where they lay. Prince sat up, Camille crawled away until she found the leg of the pool table.

Pulling herself up, her chest ached again. Once on her feet, she removed her jacket and left it on the floor where it dropped. Looking down her shirt, she found bruising shaped like the shadow of a doodled heart.

Prince walked over while she still studied the marking, and when close enough he tried to see but quickly decided to remove her shirt instead. The heart was upside down from where he stood, stamped near the left cup of her bra.

A fleeting laugh and then she was stuck in a smile. "Funny, huh? I never thought I'd get it back." She looked at him. "Guess I can leave now."

Prince wouldn't smile back. Wouldn't say anything either.

So Camille picked up her clothes, slipped her shirt back on and stuck her arms through the jacket. Prince only watched.

Camille walked to the stairs, and when she felt his energy stagnant behind her, she started to cry. Each step up, she felt herself breaking a little more as he continued to stay rather than chase. By time she made it out the basement and in his kitchen, she was hysterical. Crowned with a cap and bells, it was August all over again.