✧

Flashback

September 1983

    "Well — what do you think?"

    Through my darkened shades I made out the face of my manager Steve Fargnoli and casting director, David and sighed with an irritated expression. Months into peacing this movie together, so many women who tried their hardest to look like her. Halfway through the process , I began to suspect that this was some form of punishment on my behalf.

     Her image was haunting me everyday — through the casting calls, seeing her on magazines. But the reality was that through the makeup, tamed hair and seductive outfits, none of them triggered Denise's face into my mind.

I knew her, I was with her, I felt every crack and crevice, I laid beside her and I loved her, in a toxic and unhealthy way. My methods of showing my love to her were not far than abnormal and confusing. At some point I'm sure we both knew that.

     It had been months since I had seen her face in person or heard her voice or watched her calm sleeping face beside me. When she left behind our relationship and me at the last concert of the 1999 tour, I called her hotel room that night.

I couldn't describe my anger and disappointment when the receptionist told me that she had already checked out.

     When I found out that she had gotten out of dodge so quickly, I locked myself in a recording studio that night and put my emotions and heartbreaks into the music. It was the only outlet I had, the only outlet that I felt comfortable turning to without feeling like less of a man. I made one track for her, using her middle name to keep it confidential — Katrina's Paper Dolls.

Then I ordered my sound engineer, Susan to stash it away. I never wanted it to be heard.

     Through my manager, I called for him to find Denise's apartment a address in Minneapolis and home in Canada and gave him letters to send to her as quick as possible. After so long I began to wonder if she ever got them, or read them, but I still sent them as often as I could.

     However, there came a time when I began to think — what else could I do? It was clear from her words that she was never coming back, and after the second heartbreak I had gaven her, I doubted that  she would even want to look at me.

So after a few months of trying to contact her, I let her go. I knew that if I loved her as much as I knew I did, it was best to set her free and not act as a burden. Me constantly reaching out to her I knew would only make her more frustrated with me, and what I didn't want was for her to grow to hate me.

But even if that were the case, I couldn't blame her. I had broken her heart one-to-many times, and I knew she was tired of not being able to trust me.

     Mid- June is when I saw Denise again, but it was only on the front of a tabloid. I knew most of the things that were being printed weren't true, but when I saw that Denise and Andre had grown closer again and were seen leaving a club together one night in LA, I had to find another distraction.

     She was all over the place from what people told me, and it didn't help that the person telling me this was the new woman running through my head.

Through Wendy joining as a new member of the Revolution, it was hard to have her around without Susannah being there. It seemed that each day my feelings were growing stronger for the woman, but she belonged to someone else.

     I was in a situation with Susanna whose flirty signals and constant presence told me that she was interested. There were times when I would even order my assistant to send flowers to her home in California, but her words spoke something else.

     "I'm with someone Prince."

     When Susanna kept turning down my advances, it was like a blow to my ego. And then when I began to think about Denise again, and how easily she had walked away from me at our last show, I realized it was always the beautiful ones that break your heart. And I took a brief break from Susanna to focus on my album.

     I was glad I had music to help me escape, but I didn't know a movie would pop into my mind along with it. I had been writing and jotting down ideas around the movie since last year, but I thought it was stupid until Denise told me otherwise. I doubted that I would had continued if she hadn't thought it was a good idea. Especially since everyone else around me lacked a creative vision and thought the idea was impractical.

     Now with various women coming in with leather, there hair teased and their face caked in makeup, I was starting to become disappointed in the future of the movie.

     "Hell no. Now is that it for today? I'm getting tired of turnin' all these women down." I said, before closing the folder in front of me and poking at the brim of my glasses.

     Unfortunately, David, the casting director to he other side of me didn't answer to my liking. "We got one more. I think you're gonna like her Prince."

     I only hummed because I was tired of having high expectations only to be let down. "What's her name?"

    Alan tossed me a photo, and my eyes bugged once I gave the picture a once over.

     "Patricia Kotero."

      "Hm." I said as a reaction, letting my eyes soak up the picture, trying to imagine her taking the place of the woman I had intended to be in the production. 

The big hair, the slim but curved outline, the defined facial features — I knew she was the one before I even needed to see her act.

     However, I decided to ask, "Is she here?" Then looked over at David with an eyebrow raised. He nodded in response before beckoning a figure out of the shadows with his hand.

     What came out of the shadows was nowhere near close to the woman in the pictures, and for a moment I had to take a second look to make sure it was the same woman. After a few glances of back-and-forth between the woman and her picture, I made the connection.

     "We're starting on page three." David announced, causing her to nod nicely before opening up the script as directed. Underneath my shades I eyed her sweatpants, and tank-top with a blank expression before she read the lines.

     "I want it back now, okay?"

      David read the lines, "Who gave it to you?"

      "A person.." her voice was so innocent.

       "Male or female?"

       "Huh?"

       "Ok, stop." Eventually I interjected with a gloved hand, causing her to look up from the paper with curious eyes. "Why are you wearing that?" I asked, motioning to her clothing.

     Patricia looked down at her baggy sweatpants and tank-top without a change in expression. "Um, because it's comfortable. . . ?" She answered, smartly.

    I gave no reaction to her response, I kept my lips in a straight line before leaning over to whisper into David's ear. "That's enough."

    Once I pulled away, and glanced back at the woman her face had turned into one of slight horror. "Thanks Patricia, we've seen enough."

     "Wait that's it?" She asked, causing David to nod.

     "Well, when will I hear back?"

      "We'll call you." David promised. Meanwhile, I kept my eyes glued to her picture and took it in as much as I could before making a sign at the bottom of it as a reminder.

      "Nice to meet you both." She dismissed before exiting to the right, leaving Steve, David and I alone. With one glance between the both of us, it was clear that he could read my mind.

     "I like her." I commented quietly, tapping my mouth in thought. Already I could begin to feel ideas forming in my head.

✧

January 1984

In the end, once word began to get around without my control of a possible movie coming out, multiple interviewers seemed to be getting in contact with my team. However, with each beg and plea I declined and went back to the warehouse in Minneapolis. I declared that I wasn't going to speak to the press until a majority of the movie had been filmed.

When that time came, I still kept quiet about the inner-workings of Purple Rain. It was like a child I wanted to keep hidden from the media for now, until it was completely finished. My protectiveness pertained to all of my work, not just movies. However, even though I had to kick and scratch just to find a stable director and get the cameras rolling, it seemed like the battle was worth it.

During the time of filming, I had accepted the Rolling Stones magazine offer to be on the cover. Steve pestered me to do it, but I couldn't imagine doing it alone. Then, my mind traced back to the woman who I discussed it with initially, and instantly had my team contact her.

Denise was persistent at first to jump on the cover with me and pretend that we were still in close contact, but eventually she gave up the fight and decided to be involved. She knew that I liked confusing the press — plus, being on the cover with her was the only thing that would get the media's attention away from the movie. In addition, I hadn't seen her in months and I'd be fooling myself if I said that I didn't miss her.

Although we had spent time apart, I still loved Denise and I doubted that it would ever change. After seven months apart I expected to be over the situation, but everything kept reminding me of her until I had to block her out and use other women as a distraction. The words sounded harsh thinking about them, but it was the truth and I was tired of lying.

However, after the photo shoot with Denise and almost opening my mouth to plead for her to come back, in embarrassment I went to Jill's apartment to take out my frustrations.

     Through that broken conversation and a little convincing, we ended up sleeping together.

     Blaming my actions on the heartbreak with Denise wasn't a reliable excuse anymore, and I knew that none of the women I had been juggling were going for it. However, that didn't stop me from advancing and that didn't stop them from being willing to give me more chances.

I knew I didn't deserve their forgiveness but I didn't want to think about what I didn't deserve, especially when at times it felt like I had nothing.

    Except the reminder that Denise was no longer in my life, and had clearly moved on quickly without a thought to how I would feel. According to everyone around me and in LA — where the Revolution, the Time and now, Apollonia 6 spent our time filming, she was flirting around with Adam Ant and talking about a record deal with Motown.

    Without me she seemed to be excelling higher in her career, but she couldn't leave my mind even with Susanna beginning to creep her way inside.

    Eventually when the movie had been cut, and finished, I decided to head to a club knowing that Denise would be attending. Apollonia was now close to my side and she didn't ask any questions when we drifted inside and to my small seclusion. She was a sweet woman and the only escape I had where I wasn't fully interested in pursuing her.

We were friends, co-workers and both of us were okay with that. Especially since she was already with somebody, so the chances of us getting together were slim.

     "I can't really see you as being a club person." She had commented once we took a seat. At her words I had to agree, but I was only here for one purpose. But I didn't give Apollonia any hint of my intentions.

Even for the duration I had remained quiet, her words occasionally got a laugh out of me here and there. However, once the clock hit eleven, the entire mood of the club changed and whispers began to spread across the area.

That's when I knew she was there.

     It was January so I knew it was her birthday, but I didn't expect for her to be spending her time celebrating with her sisters. My only thought was, where was Andy? And why wasn't he with his woman who had caught the attention of everyone in the club. Including a man who began to creep closer to her.

     "You see that guy right there." I said to Apollonia and let my finger do the directing. Her brown eyes followed my finger to the back of the man who was now talking to Denise.

      "Isn't that Vanity?" She asked, curiously.

      I nodded my head, and eyed the man with a shake to my head. "So sad." I commented openly, causing Apollonia to giggle before looking back at the man.

      "What happened between you two?" Sitting up, I decided to let my eyes leave the scene taking place between the two.

      Then I shrugged. "Nothing." But as the words left my mouth, Denise turned and those words got stuck in my throat when I saw her smile toward the other man.

     After shaking away the image and feelings of immediate pain pulsating through my chest, I grabbed Apollonia's hand and got up. "C'mon mama, we gon' dance."

     Happily, she hopped up from her seat and with wandering eyes I watched as Denise emerged on-to the dance floor.

My ears felt blocked to the slow music now playing through the club, with a dark red hue settling over the area. I tried to avoid looking over at Denise and her new found partner, but it was hard to do when I immediately felt her eyes planted in my direction.

     It didn't take long for me to look up, and for our eyes to make contact. The tension that began to build was the same as when she joined me for the photo shoot, if not worse now that I had my arms wrapped around another woman. One that nearly resembled her.

     Her lips parted at the sight of Apollonia and I, before she blinked out of it and seemed to realize what she was doing. Even though her eyes left mine, I refused to let my gaze leave hers. I knew she was trying to pretend that she didn't see me after that, but it was clear that she had when she pulled the other man closer.

     When his hands began to sip lower, I forced myself to look away and back into Appolonia's eyes. She gave me a smile, but I couldn't force one back.

     "Something wrong." She spoke into my ear after noticing my change in demeanor.

"Nope." Lying, I shook my head and focused back on the view past her shoulder, knowing that it would hurt.

On cue, Denise lifted her head up to the man's ear and with a suggestive smirk she whispered into his ear.

     From the dirty grin that began to etch across the guys face, my grip grew tighter without my knowledge before I followed the pair out with my eyes. When they left, and I was left to linger in my own thoughts I began to sulk in regret.

     No matter the amount of women I tried to satisfy myself with, I came to the realization that none of them could compare to her. Not Jill, not Susan, not even my new found affection for Susanna measured up to the love I still had for Denise.

     The regret of indulging in my own selfish desires and letting her walk away from me so easily I knew, would forever linger on in my mind.

Ultimately being labeled as one of the worse decisions I have ever made.