It was my last live performance before retirement.
Quite a few ongoing cheerleaders still stood in my corner after all this time. Tracee and Prince whined all throughout my rehearsals, still hoping that I'd change my mind in one way or another. Even Sheila wanted to kick my ass at one point.
On the other hand, I'd always have my own love for music, but times shifted. I'd rather stay behind the scenes and help others learn these ropes. To be honest, it was better to move on this way instead of trying to fit in with everyone else now.
Prince had even cleared one of the Paisley Park soundstages just for this event. Fans, celebrities, and others had crowded to watch me. Cameras would capture every moment, broadcasting for future generations. I could barely hear myself think as folks cheered. It was 1983 all over again, back when showbiz cared.
When showtime finally arrived, my icing on the cake had Prince giving me quite an introduction. I paced and forth from backstage, listening. Waiting. His low and iconic voice hushed the zealous and happy audience, leaving everyone to hear him.
"I'm not one to talk very often, but tonight is an exception. When I met this woman for the very first time, I had nothing..." His voice trailed off. For the first time in years, he nearly broke down. I knew our story from beginning to end. No matter what, I'd have his back. Of course, drama didn't mean a thing to us anymore.
"All that glitters ain't gold. Get up on your feet and show love to the one and only, my best friend, and my greatest collaborator, Ms. Valerie Mae Thomas." Prince pulled him together, brushed off his personal tears, and finally introduced me.
As the lights turned down, I mentally prepared myself to depart backstage. Looming yet bright chords of a medley we rehearsed played. Armed back here with my electric guitar, I listened as Sheila drummed her way through an opening.
Seconds later, I closed my eyes and listened to Prince sing. "Gold" had been one of my favorite collaborations with him. Back when his symbol ruled our lives. Thumping underlined my footsteps as I nodded along, waiting for my cue.
I stepped out between stints of darkness, showing my silhouette to this loving crowd. When overhead spotlights beamed in the middle to reveal my solo, I'd worn this shimmer gold pantsuit. Melodies shredded on this guitar as if I'd die tomorrow.
Even when this opening song ended, it wasn't over. I kissed Prince on the cheek, tossed my guitar to a crew member in the audience, and ran off towards drums. Shelia jokingly bowed, handing over my own sticks to play. The crowd lost it.
"One, two. One, two, three, four!" I shouted into the placed microphone, cuing for everyone to play a short yet fiery variation of "Interactive." From my own vantage point, Prince settled himself near me, playing electric instead to layer my talents.
Picked up my paper today.
Give you one guess what they say.
Now we got to learn how to play.
Interactive.
Another cross in need of a road.
Another loop in need of a hole.
Another body in need of a soul.
Interactive.
Ain't that a shame? I winked to the crowd during this small lyric change. Everyone here knew that "shame" wasn't part of the record back in '95.
Tell me what to do and I'll do it.
I don't care just as long as we get to it.
Up and down, around and all through it.
Baby, baby, baby, let's do it.
Interactive!
This entire band didn't even give our audience the chance to sit down or breathe after that one, either. On cue, we'd switched song keys and I swapped places with Sheila once more. She was back on the drums and I found my synthesizers to play something different. Even Sheila jumped up for a moment and cheered, so proud.
As soon as I played the haunting and opening chords to "Little Red Corvette," our crowd whooped out loud. I closed my eyes, imagining wearing my favorite curls with dark fingerless gloves again. Blue and purple lights shadowed the entire stage.
A body like yours oughta be in jail.
'Cause it's on the verge of bein' obscene.
Move over, baby, gimme the keys
I'm gonna try to tame your little red love machine!
I scaled down my playing hand, watching as Prince gestured and cued up one last song.
Never meant to cause any sorrow.
Never meant to cause you any pain.
Only wanted one time to see you laughing.
Only want to see you laughing in the purple rain.
Purple rain, purple rain.
Purple rain, purple rain.
Purple rain, purple rain.
Only want to see you laughing in the purple rain.
He then lunged into the famous guitar solo that changed this world forever. Behind my synthesizer, I watched in complete awe, layering his skills with my melodies. This tribute was never about me. My music never left such an impact on others.
Since I aimed to stopped performing, I wanted to honor him instead.
Next thing I knew, I opened my eyes to see him standing on my platform, looping his free arm around my shoulder. Even Sheila had almost stopped playing the drums to notice what happened. I was now in tears, listening to this instrumental.
"Thank you for everything." Prince kissed my cheek. When he moved away from me and lifted his hand to end the song, I blinked tears. Even my makeup smirked without hesitation. The loving crowd offered their ultimate standing ovation, proud.
I nodded towards him and Sheila, standing up and lifting my hands. As this music faded out, I then left my synthesizer and centered the stage to hug my best friend. Prince opened both arms, rocking our embrace. Cheering echoed in all directions.
If I could turn back the hands of time, we would both recall memories for the rest of our lives.
"There are some who bring a light so great to the world that even after they have gone the light remains." — Unknown
Prince Rogers Nelson (1958 - 2016)
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