✧    

January 30, 1983

"Just a second!"

     Disguising the smell with the simple spray of air freshener, I turned off the pipe before jumping up to open the door. With excited eyes, I watched with happiness as my sister greeted me with a hug.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in such a long time, oh my goodness." I exaggerated, shaking my head and pulling Pattie inside. "Come on in." Closing the door soon after she entered, I guided us towards the kitchen with maintained steps.

     Pattie glanced around my apartment with judge mental eyes, "Denise when's the last time you cleaned this place up." Clothes were strewn around, accessories were left on the coffee table, shoes were scattered across the living room but in my state of mind I didn't see the issue.

I shrugged a shoulder, beginning to put coffee grounds into the filter. "Oh gosh, I don't know. I've been so busy in the studio that it skipped my mind." Partially that excuse was true. But a majority of the passing week was spent out in Los Angeles, spending time with Antonio whose business seemed to be booming with each day.

Inbetween recording sessions, I ditched Minneapolis as soon as I could so their wouldn't be any lingering possibilities of seeing Prince outside of the required hours. Luckily, I was tilted successful and it seemed that seeing him was getting easier each time I went into recording.

    It was as if what happened at First Avenue had never occurred and we were both doing our best to ignore it. I suddenly remembered the reason why I was so relaxed and less tensed around Prince and blamed it on the white powder Morris supplied me with.

    Cocaine

    One inhale, and instantly the problems disappeared, making me feel a sense of supremacy and that consequences were forgotten subjects. It was easy in this state, it was easier to handle things. But I tried to maintain the amount I in-took because if I showed up to recording session in that shape, I knew Prince would have questions that I didn't want to answer.

    Pattie snatched me out of relieving things that happened the past week to comment, "I see you got your place back though. How'd you do it?"

    I bit my lip, "The landlord let me have it back, no rent this month. . . I wonder why." I thought simply, letting the coffee boil. I failed to inform her that with one blink to my thick lashes and a effortless touch on his shoulder weakened him to pudding. But I disperse those thoughts while sitting beside Pattie at the counter just as I go to grasp her hands.

"Enough about me! How're you? How's Renee? How's mom?"

     Questions were thrown Pattie's way but I was so eager to know information that I didn't bother controlling myself. Pattie laughed lightly at my behavior before shaking her head, "Everyone's well. Renee's out of town — you know how she is. And mom she's. . . okay."

     I pushed her shoulder, "Don't be so detailed!" I sarcastically quipped, giggling with a hand over my mouth.

   Pattie licked her lips and sighed, "Her condition's worsened, extremely. But, she's still fighting. The doctor hasn't updated us at all on how bad this is going to get before extreme measures have to be taken — but, we're praying."

I hum, glad to not feel the frustrations of my mother's condition resting solely on my shoulders.

Suddenly, I watch as Pattie observes me slowly, specifically focusing on my eyes. I turn away quickly as a diversion and pick up the coffee pot. "Want some coffee?"

Pattie's silence answers me and I have to add words to the conversation, "I'm not going to lie, I'm addicted to this stuff." I comment, laughing to myself as I pour two cups of coffee even though Pattie didn't confirm or deny she wanted any.

     "Have you been getting much sleep Denise?" At her question, I lift my eyes to meet the marble counter underneath my eyelashes before I set the coffee pot down.

     Just as quickly as my smile had fallen, I lifted it back up just as fast. "Of course, why wouldn't I?" I nervously question, pushing the coffee cup towards her as my eyes remained trained to counter instead.

      "Your eyes are red, like you've been up all night."

      Nibbling at my lip, I ignore her claims and turn my back to put the coffee pot back onto the machine. "Did you want milk in your coffee?" I question, rushing over to the fridge to pull some out. Her questioning of my sleeping patterns left me in a trap.

The insomnia that came along with taking cocaine resulted in a few sleepless nights, but it didn't stop me from getting what I need done accomplished. I refused for it too. The only thing I wanted was for it to take away my frustrations, which it successfully did but with some minor side effects.

       "Denise.."

       "Ugh," I expressed in disgust. "That name is so boring now that I think about it," I chuckle and lift the cup of boiling coffee up to my lips.

      "Hey, that's one thing I could say Prince did right. Naming me something else." I compliment, briefly letting an eyebrow jump. Pattie looked past my comment and ambled up to me, forcing my gaze up to meet her's by my chin.

     Her eyes widened, "Your high." Rolling my eyes, I brushed her hand off of me to wander out of the kitchen.

    "If you can call it that," I scoffed. "This stuff doesn't last for long if you're smokin' it." Resting back on the couch, I watch out of the side of my eye as Pattie sits beside me cautiously.

"Denise, this stuff can kill you." Pattie scoffed, shaking her head. "Don't you know that?" Looking past at the fact that Pattie denied my request of simply calling me by the seperate name, I grasped her hands tightly in mine.

"Pattie, it's not that bad. I mean, I'm only having a little." I jump up. "Here — I'll show you." Pattie immediate stands to her feet and scrunches up her face in disgust.

"I don't want to see that devil's poison you're putting into your body." Her disappointment in me showed as clear as day upon her features, but I couldn't feel a lick of guilt for being the cause of her disappointment.

I release a well needed sigh, "Fine. I have to get ready to go out anyways." Morris was hosting a party considering we would be heading back on tour in not even twenty-four hours. I thought it was a good idea, and before I knew it I was obligated to attend.

However from the tight hold Pattie had on my wrist, those plans were being delayed. "Uh, uh. You've lost your mind more than it's already gone if you think you're going out like this." Despite her refusals to release me, I ripped out of her hold and wandered into my bedroom to find an outfit.

"Does Prince know your doing this?"

I laughed, "Who cares if he knows or not?" I questioned, pulling out sparkled white dress from the closet. Scrunching up my nose in disapproval soon after, I slid it back onto the rack. "All Prince has the right to complain about is if I'm showing up to recording sessions late."

Pattie was silent, "And from what I've heard. . . there's been no complaining." In my eyes, Pattie had no room to question me. She was the one who with persuasion, convinced me too move back out to Minneapolis and suddenly wanted to act sisterly once I choose a certain path to disperse of pain?

     "If you're not going to help then you should go, unless you want to stay to come with me to the party?" Lifting a brow, I watched as Pattie remained with her hands rested calmly on her hips while her face held a different expression.

      As quick as her hard facade went up, her eyes softened in the same time span. "Don't do this Deni–" She caught herself. "Vanity. I know you're hurting, because of mom and especially what happened between you and Pri—"

      "Alright, this is over." I lifted up a hand, stepping over the clothing sprawled across the floor as I reached Pattie who remained in the doorway. Even though she was my sister and I loved her dearly, the last thing I chose to do was jog down memory lane. "Call me when you reach Canada."

     Pattie halted behind me, "I'm not heading back yet. I was planning on staying here for a couple of days to see how you were doing."

     I couldn't believe that statement. My mother's intentions were pure, but it didn't excuse the fact that what she wanted wasn't hurtful. She could've sent away any child but initially I was the lucky pick. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hurt over it. She reached out to me over the phone after me leaving so suddenly, but I could barely speak to her without growing heated.

     Just like Pattie, she explained her intentions and desires for me but it went in one ear and out the other. The offense took up a majority of my brain. Since then, it's been mute on both of our ends and I hated it, but with one pull from the pipe was the cure to all of my guilt and issues.

     I watched as Pattie inched closer towards me with a concerned expression. "I'm not just going to stand by and watch you throw your life away like this, Denise."

Hand supporting the now opened door, I pressed my lips right together. "So, don't watch." I blurted out, watching as a result as Pattie huffed in disbelief.

Disappointment rushed into her face, but I couldn't find it within me to care even after she brushed violently past me and out of the apartment. Turning slowly, I watched with somber eyes as her back grew further away.

Feeling tenseness begin to build up inside me, my eyes instantly connected with the crack pipe once more.

✧

   Morris was hosting the party at a nightclub listed as The Taste. Luckily, he sent out a car to come pick me up considering most of the little amount of money I had was heading towards my rent instead of gas for the corvette. I contemplated returning the car Prince gave to me back, but decided against it. It was like the guitar I gave him, I wasn't expecting for him to return it — it was his now.

     Lifting myself out of the car, I watched the amount of people lined up outside of the The Taste.

      With a wave to my hand at the ones who recognized me, I hopped out of the car and made my way inside after pushing through a crowd full of people. My immediate goal was to search out Morris. The expectations I had for who would be attending the party came close to none. It mostly had to do with the fact that I didn't want to end up feeling partially disappointed if I didn't happen to glance over to a specific familiar face.

    Luckily after removing the darkened shades covering my eyes, I found Morris lingering near the open stage seemingly in a lighthearted discussion with a man whom I didn't know.

   Despite his unfamiliar guest, I slipped my glasses back on and trotted up to Morris only to see the man beside him glance up at me. His beauty nearly stopped me in my tracts, but with a opened grin, I found myself hugging Morris.

    "Hey watch it now," Morris prided jokingly, causing me to deliver a softened blow to his shoulder. Chewing the minty gum that filled my tongue, I sparred a look to the man standing beside Morris, as if waiting for me to notice his presence.

     "I know you."

     I lifted a pointy brow, roaming my eyes across his features even though he couldn't see. "Do you? 'Cause I definitely would've remembered you."

     Licking his lips, he lifted the glass filled with an amber liquid up to his lips. "You probably wouldn't have since I was in a crowd full of people."

    "He went to our concert in January, before we went on break." Explained Morris, "This here is André Cymone." The name sounded familiar, but I couldn't put a finger on how I knew him.

     Sensing my confusion, Morris further explained. "He was in Prince's group, in '79." I hummed, fitting the pieces together and nodded in understandment. The last time I saw André was on television when he was to the left of Prince on American Bandstand, with an tight tamed Afro.

     He was handsome then, but seeing him in person warmed a place inside of me that influenced me to remove my glasses once more. "André," My words were resulted in him flicking his eyes at me underneath his lashes with both brows raised. "Come dance with me."

    Before André could say a word, Morris intervened. "Uh, uh baby. You don't wanna' do that now." With a roll to my eyes, I planted my hands atop of my jean covered hips.

    "And why is that?"

     Morris sighed, "Prince is gonna be here any minute and I ain't gone be the one to break them two up," he pointed to André and an empty space where I assumed Prince relied, "because you wanna be messin' around."

     "Prince got with her?" André questioned, directing his question towards Morris. With a nod, his question was answered. Then, he directed his eyes towards me. "You still with him?"

     With an innocent gaze, I shook my head and felt my lips twitch when he set his drink down. Prince didn't have a claim over me; no one did. Not even Antonio, who I had to remind myself still lied within the equation. "So, what's the problem? He ain't with her anymore man." I looked at Morris, awaiting his answer also.

     It was a harmless dance in my eyes.

Throwing his hands in the air as surrender, Morris backed off. "Fine, ya'll do whatever you want. But don't come crying back to me when Prince get's on you. And he will."

      Even if Prince's eyes did so happen to past our direction, I wouldn't care. He hadn't sparred my feelings when he cheated, so I didn't see the point in sparring his own.

      No matter how pissed he'd be.