"Queen!" Angel yelled out with joy near a Tiki bar as soon as I stepped out of the pool. I'd quickly taken a moment to strolled toward my designated and slipped on sunglasses. After quickly looking up, a smile reached my lips at the sight of Angie. She'd turned heads with a bikini and pushed up sunglasses of her own. Bass thundered from the immobile DJ booth nearby.
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Fellow celebrities strolled with every passing moment or crowded the white sand to frolic without care. This beach even found itself closed to average people in the name of our collective wishes for joy without pandemonium. Employees of this same tropical resort worked extremely hard to endure a relatively private standing in the hotel business. I'd always enjoy Miami for these reasons among others.
Angie and I hadn't seen each other face to face in quite a while given careers, but always stay in touch. From what I now understood, Angie shacked up with Michael Jackson of all people. Her Los Angeles home became a secondary residence for that infamous genius. Neverland prioritized as the key place he could relive his unfortunately forgotten childhood. I understood in one way or another.
Otherwise, I never searched for anything beyond what Angel openly explained. Her personal relationships were honestly none of my business nonetheless. At the very least, my homegirl still deserved some sort of privacy. There was no other choice. I knew for sure that if media outlets realized the nature of her bond with Mike, tabloids would stop hinging for details.
It was terrible enough watching bodyguards kick those two out of Brenda's album release party last year. I'd never fumed so much in my life before. Soul Train or not. My best friend had been publicly humiliated. Even as I tried defending her during my own interview, the tabloids seemed relentless and even unforgiving. Yet, Mike pushed on like a hero and bounced back as if nothing took place. His tour still excelled all over the world.
On the other hand, media outlets explained that Brenda almost drifted from the public eye. I'd even bought the "Rollercoaster" album without any ulterior motives and became shocked. I quickly found myself blasting the music over and over. Anytime. Anywhere. Like Angie had told me, B could sing. The rest of this world just ignored that truth due to people like myself.
I reclined on my designated chair expectedly when Angel returned with two Pina Colada drinks. She scooted onto her own chair and we exchanged glances before clinking. We laughed together for a moment, but I stared forward and my eyes fixated on one person. Short curls dropped around her familiar face.
Brenda.
Brenda Michelle rocked a white two-piece and strolled hand in hand with producer Craig Wallace. Waves crashed with each passing moment and I looked directly above to notice seagulls or pelicans flying in between. Angel hid right behind her sunglasses. I instantly knew when she'd cower. Even after all these years.
"What's wrong?" I sipped on the Pina Colada between my words. Angel immediately opened an issue of Cosmo and hid right behind those binding pages. I could've easily slammed the magazine, but chose to not avoid looking like a Mother in public. Friends or not.
I refused to taint my reputation and headline stupid tabloids tomorrow. I'd already walked away from spotlight for personal shit shortly after that Diane Sawyer interview. Even Angel understood. With those dark times behind, I'd returned to Los Angeles and found my best friend once more, immediately turning over a new leaf.
"Can we talk about Michael? I don't feel right." Angel finally responded to my question. Behind these sunglasses, I cut a glare and carefully set down my drink not too far away on my designated table near this very spot. My eyebrows furrowed at this point as I looked around aimlessly, struggling to find an indoor but private location.
"What about him?" I scooted closer to Angel's ear instead. Our voices remained completely low during this conversation. I didn't know what to consider as a lump formed in my throat. There was only silence between us other than happy chatting, booming rhythms, and that distinct flow of the ocean waves.
"The day before my flight here, Mike wrote something in this notebook. I'd never seen it before and after questioning him about it, we blew up at each other during this huge fight." Angel nearly dropped the Cosmo magazine onto her legs. I folded both arms while listening intently.
"You think Brenda had something to do with it? How? They're not even together anymore." I narrowed my eyes underneath these sunglasses. I looked over at the beach and realized that Craig and Brenda had vanished from view. Once again, I didn't know what to think and shrugged off the gesture. My homegirl still needed a shoulder to cry on right now.
"Val, it's so much deeper than that. Mike doesn't even call me Baby Girl and you know damn well that's usually just slang. Michael and I just fuck and all, but...I don't know...he..." Angie shook her head while facing me now. I titled my head once and continued listening. Curiosity washed over my heart within seconds. I'd seen rare pictures of the exes in magazines and witnessed the dates time and time again, but this? This was different according to my girl.
