The 80s

AMA 86'

I tapped my feet restlessly, shifting my weight from left to right. I was standing right next to the man I hated the most right now and worst of all I could feel him staring a crater into the side of my head.

I don't know why the American Music Awards committee wanted us to present this award together. Since I haven't been see in the public with him in a while. I was just supposed to come later on, perform and then go home. That was my plan, seems like everyone is just fucking up the life plans.

"Our first award tonight is for favorite pop/rock single. According to year end information complied by Cashbox magazine, one of the leading music trade publications. We are the World would've been eligible for several categories." Diana announced to the crowd, smugly as usual.

Bitch.

I rolled my eyes. I want to do as much as I can to help the Motherland as much as I can but this 'We Are The World' stuff is a bunch of bullshit. Africa has years and years of oppression, imperialism, and colonialism to work through. America is still full of racism. How about they work on that. Then we can rebuild another land, that they also destroyed and are still currently destroying.

Then the worst part was I had to sit around in a crowded ass studio with Michael again. Boy was that the most awkward situation. The tension in the air was so thick it almost suffocated me. He stared me down the entire time I was singing. He made it really hard to focus. I would close my eyes to sing and I would open them to seem him, once again, casting angry glances at me. I wouldn't blame him. I don't blame him one bit. I just smiled and kept it moving. Prince didn't do it, the asshole. He said it's because of "all the greatness in one room" and he would be nervous.

Bullshit. He doesn't have a nervous bone in his body. One he doesn't like recording with other people in the room. He even kicks out his sound engineer. Two, It would've just been weird as fuck for all of us to be in a room together. Considering the history and no doubt the nosy asses of Hollywood would've been asking a fuck ton of questions.

"Presenting our first award is a young man who does everything. Sing. Dance. Play. Act. And write with a fantastic flare. I can see your already ahead of me." She giggled. "And with him a little girl with a big voice. Here is the fabulously talented duo, Prince and Jasmyn!!"

Lackluster introduction for me by the biggest bitch in the universe Diana Ross. Much expected. I smoothed out my dress, plastered a beauty pageant smile on my face and clutched the envelope to my chest with both hands.

Prince offered his arm with a smile. "Shall we?"

I looked down at his arm the back to him and walked out onto the stage. She hugged me quite mediocrely but she maintained her smile, the one thing she's actually talented at besides opening her legs.

"Bitch." she spat, through her gritted teeth.

"Still bitter I see?"

"Still stealing parts I see." She waved to the crowd.