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Four hours unexpectedly pass consisting of picking through clothes, taming down the thick strands of my hair and sliding into a latex-black dress. The plunge low in the back nagged that I had to wear the most uncomfortable underwear, but I took a different approach. Not wearing any at all.

Strangely, it made me feel sexier and dangerous that I knew something no one else didn't. It was a rush and exciting. Speaking of excitement and rushes, Prince had called a couple of hours after to inform me that he would be picking me up. The location that he was taking me out to remained secretive but I didn't fuss over it because most of his secret hide outs end out in somewhat good outcomes.

Once I got a single hand into my laced sleeve, the telephone began to ring. I huffed out through my nose whilst the other remaining glove laid in my right hand.

Maybe it was just instinct, but once I picked up the phone I instantly thought it was Prince. "I heard what you said the last time. Be ready at nine, wear something sexy, but not to sexy because you don't want other guy's looking—"

"Denise?"

I furrow my brows at the feminine tone, "Mom?"

"Who the hell is telling you to wear something sexy—"

I cut her off before she can finish. "How did you get this number?" I hadn't talked to her in months. I'm surprised she bothered even picking up the phone to contact me.

"Brenda gave it to me." She answers, as if it's simple. It only isn't because we aren't on good terms.

I sigh, "I just moved in how could she have my number.." I trail off to myself. Who was giving people my number? I shook my head of the thought for now before cradling the phone in between my neck and shoulder.

"Anyways, how are you?"

"As good as I can be around here I guess." I hear her slightly cough.

I instantly get a little concerned. "Are you feeling okay?"

She hums, "I'm alright. It's just the flu." My mother never communicated when she was feeling ill. As dark as it sounds even on her death bed she'd probably say that she's alright when clearly it's not the case.

"Is someone there to take care of you?

I hear another cough. "Pat is here with me. Yet, she's out right now with Renee hitting the streets I assume."

The area between my brows shrink, "She should be there with you." I complain.

    "She's young. She needs to be out." I roll my eyes at my mom's clear defense. Even when Pat was in the wrong she would always find a way to defend her. "Now you. I see you've been out a lot."

      I bite my lip in fear of her reaction. The image of my mom hearing the song Nasty Girl and other provocative songs on the album, I can basically picture her disapproval.

    "What happened to 'Oh mom, I'm going to Minneapolis to finish school." She mocks in an altered tone that isn't her own.

     I bite my lip and continue to pull the Velcro sleeves up my arms. "Things change.."

     "Or someone changed you." She claims making me instantly grow silent. "It's that small man isn't it?"

    I nearly laugh into the phone, but I stifle it successfully. "He's not small." I pause for a beat.

    "He's not small at all actually." I mumble as an afterthought to myself when my mind traces off into a much darker place.

     "Denise!" She exclaims, appalled. I sigh into the phone with a palm on my forehead as she begins her scolding. "I knew the papers were saying you two had something going on but, my god." Embarrassed, I blink my eyes shut.

    "I hope you're using protection."

     I continue to nibble on the inside of my cheek, "I'm on birth control mom, I got on when I was with Darren."

    "Who's Darren?" She exclaims in question, shocked and confused. "Honey all these men, I hope you don't catch anything."

      Offended, I scoff into the phone. "I have to go. I have plans tonight."

      I can practically hear my mother's laughs. "With who — the small man or Darren."

     "Love you, mom." I cut her off instead and hang up the phone all together. Even though she was my flesh and blood, her words were so embarrassing. But the conversation reminded me that her drinking was getting limited and talking with her wasn't as difficult.

     Through the dark past and tough times, I was honestly able to say that I was proud of her.

     As soon as I walked away from the phone, it instantly began to ring again. I roll my eyes with a knowing smile that she probably called back to finish her knowing input.

     I swift up the phone in my hand, "If your calling to know who it is I'm going out with, it isn't Darren."

     "I would hope not."

      I sigh when I finally hear a masculine tone resonate through the phone. "Sorry, I thought you were my mom."

Prince chuckles, "You're mom must have a deep voice then."

I find myself smiling, "No. I talked to her before you called.

"I thought you said that you're mom was unstable." He chooses his words carefully and I'm slightly surprised he remembered that detail of my life.

"She's gotten better since then, thank god."

"That's nice." Prince comments, happily.

I nod and glance over at the clock to see the digital numbers 8:58. Instantly, I furrow my brows. "Wait— how are you calling from your car?"

      "I'm running late, I was in the studio." He explains before his line muffles a little. I wait until it clears to speak.

"Sure you were." I say, with a hint of bother in my tone.

Prince seems to notice and sighs, "What?"

"Nothing."

"No, what? You think I was with a girl?" My profound silence answers him. I can picture his eyes closing while he runs a frustrated hand across his face. "Are my intentions not clear? Do I need to write it down and have it documented so you can believe it?"

       That would be nice to have, I think with a tilt to my head. "What are your intentions to be exact. Because to me it seems like I'm just a booty-call." I can't take the words back after I say them but even after he refrains to respond, I don't regret saying them.

       His silence is prominent in the conversation but it drives me crazy. "Prince."

       "I'm here." He acknowledges, sounding as if his jaw is clenched. "Look, if you were a just a booty-call to me you would know."

      That doesn't put me at ease in the slightest.

"I do know. That's why I said something about it."

Prince immediately sounds frustrated. "Denise.."

"What?" I know I shouldn't have an attitude in my time but I can't help it. I don't trust the fact that he was supposedly in the studio, especially when that Jill person could've still been at his home when he got there. God knows what they did together.

"You're making this so hard for me."

My sarcastic side kicks in and internally I want to pout and mockingly whine into the phone. But it's childish so I go with a different approach. Argumentative.

"How am I making this hard. Who's the one that caused me not to trust who again?"

"If your going to keep bringing up old shit than this isn't going to work." Prince says, disapprovingly.

I blink in confusion because it only occurred a few days ago.

I blurt out my next words without thinking, "There is no this."

Nothing answers me back after all my frustrations come pouring out. A part of me regrets it but another doesn't. I've been concealing most of my thoughts from him, afraid of his reaction but now it was needed. Nonetheless I found myself placing a hand against my forehead in regret.

"You done?" He questions, hardly. I swallow the lump in my throat with difficulty. Apparently he takes my silence as a yes.

"I know I did some pretty fucked up things these past few days, things that I do regret. And you have no reason to even remotely trust me again but shit Denise. Can't you give a brother some lineancey?" No, I want to automatically answer. But block my words by pressing my lips tighter together.

      Right when I go to say something, the phone makes a beeping noise. I look at it with confusion. "Hold on, someone's calling." Prince only stays silent as I switch over to the other line.

     "Hello?"

     "Hey, Denise." Confusion gets etched upon my face as I hear the familiar tone enter in my ear.

     "Darren," I say in disbelief. "Why are you calling." I know it sounded rude but I was truly confused. We didn't exactly leave off on good terms.

   He sighs, "Yeah I'm calling for your advice on something." I am taken aback but respond nonetheless.

   "On?"

   "Well, I can't really discuss it on the phone right now because I'm in a hurry. But you don't mind flying down to L.A to meet me would you?"

    I furrow my brows, instantly searching for an excuse not to go. "Darren, can't you just meet me around Minneapolis?"

    The line is quiet.

    "You are still in Minneapolis, right?"

     Darren corrected me, "No I'm in L.A currently." I sigh through my nose and purse my lips to the side.

      "I'm really busy around here. The girls and I have a tour in three days I—"

      He cuts me off, "You're still with them?"

      Pause.

      "Yes, why wouldn't I be?" I was curious to know his answer.

      But he laughs, "I don't know. I just thought—" He cuts himself off with another chuckle and I'm confused at his amusement. "You know what, nevermind."

     But the curiously within me prevents me from ending the conversation.

     "No what is it?"

     "I just thought you would've ditched him by now. You know, considering he lied and everything." Already, I regretted telling him about that.

"I'm not going to let that affect my career. That's on his conscious not mine."

"And you still want to work for him?" Darren asks incredulously. "Denise I thought you were smarter than that."

I feel my jaw clench at his words.

"Look if you called just to judge me on what I thought was a smart decision regarding my career than I can hang up, right now."

Darren answers me with silence, making me impatient. I felt guilty that Prince was just waiting on the other line so ultimately I decided to end the conversation.

"Alright, Darren?" I call to which he hums. "I have to go because he's on the other line and I already wasted my time and his with this conversation."

I don't feel bad when I say the words and end the call with him soon after. The conversation reassured me that breaking up him was no only a good thing for him but me as well.

   By the sound of his tone, Darren obviously didn't believe I'd make it this far. I tried not to let that bother me but it nagged at me like a fly.

When I switched back over to Prince, he sounded to be in a conversation with someone.

"No, I can't...don't you see me on the phone?" He complained, irritated. "Alright well I can't do anything about it right now....I'm about to head out....."

The line becomes quiet for a moment and I go to say something but his voice interrupts.

"With Denise." He says, somewhat cautiously. "Why does it matter...I already told you I'm not with her anymore."

I shake my head in confusion. Who was he talking to?

"Yeah, I do actually...no, I don't love her...I already told you that I do...yeah, she's the only one..." He breaks off into a chuckle. "..with her I'm fine with being whipped...whatever, I'll see you later man."

Then, I decide to clear my throat through my grin to gain Prince's attention.

"Hey, sorry it was Tatiana." I refuse to say that Darren had called me because that would sprout a whole new set of questions I didn't want to answer.

Prince's response is bland, "Whatever." It makes me question what I thought I heard and what I interpreted from it.

Just like that, his sense of vulnerability switched off.