The Return of The King
An experimental artist with a spring green, restless gaze.
A moving target is hard to hit.
That’s what Korey David learned quickly as a child.
Her father, Pryor David, was a minor rock star in his younger days, and when his band eventually broke up, he settled down with his favorite roadie, a slip of a woman named Missy ten years younger than him.
Unfortunately for their immediate family plans, Missy was barren. For years,they struggled with doctor after disappointment after doctor, so when a reunion tour of Pryor Lyfe was proposed, the change of pace was welcomed.
So was the young, worldly band follower with bright springtime eyes, nurturing nature, and enough dark eyeliner and mascara to keep a gaggle of goths happy for weeks.
Many months later, Pryor found himself nighttime wandering after a nasty fight with Missy, drink in hand. A turn down a bad alley, wheeling through a seedy bar he knew, stumbling through a park, and finally resting on a park bench with a tired sigh, he dozed off.
When he woke to a sharp prod, it was still dark, but instead of the officer he expected to see, it was Sophie, the band follower from months before. She seemed more womanly now, a sight aided by the burbling 8 week-old infant in her arms with a dark shock of hair in the same pure black tones as his had been at one time.
Hung over and unable to formulate anything more articulate to say than, “um,” he listened in surprise as Sophie calmly explained that the child in her arms was his daughter, her name was Korey, she couldn’t take the girl back to her husband’s home down in the Deep South, and no, she didn’t call any newspapers or gossip rags, and please, please take good care of their daughter for her.
Placing the small child in his lap and setting a stuffed diaper bag of toys and proper baby supplies next to him, the woman pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead and stepped backwards, finally turning and walking away into the dark.
The 38 year-old rocker and his daughter sat staring at each other for a long, silent while.
Explained to the world as an adoption, life growing up as Missy’s daughter was a burden. Forced to be kind and glowing as a mother to the girl in public, she took her anger and frustration out on Korey behind closed doors, verbally berating her and taking special care to only hit the child on special occasions, such as her wedding anniversary.
Her husband begged her to please see Korey as a blessing, the child they always wanted, but all Missy could ever do was see her own failures as a woman and wife to her girlhood love.
Korey got very good at staying out of her mother’s way, instead tagging along with her father as he worked to develop his own production label, nurturing young, promising musical talent from the Midwest. It required him to travel constantly between London, Los Angeles, New York, and even Tokyo a couple of times, but she loved being with her dad and loved traveling. She would busy her hands drawing album covers lying around, copying them with frightening accuracy. It became normal around David Studios for business partners and visiting musical artists to bring a set of colored pencils, water colors, brushes, or any other assorted art supply as a gift for Pryor’s talented daughter. They were normally gifted with a drawing of themselves or their friends in return by the end of the day, though Korey did get a stern talking-to when she drew a chalk mural of a business partner on the middle of a buyout as being under their new owner’s boot. Korey’s idea of an apology was to draw devil horns and a mustache on the buyer.
When Korey was ten, Missy filed for divorce, an expensive and explosive process in which Missy made off like a bandit, especially after Pryor’s lawyer quietly informed him that unless he wanted Korey’s true origins and the child herself dragged into proceedings, he would take Missy and her lawyer’s wildly lopsided deal. They flew around a bit less after that, and Pryor focused more on a few of his best bands rather than jetsetting everywhere in search of new talent to collect and show off.
Missy’s concerted attempt to financially ruin her ex-husband and adopted daughter backfired, however, as the sordid truth of human attentions saved him. People love watching a train wreck. His exposure grew, and his bands and talents were more closely examined, and within three years of his divorce, was more successful than he had ever been.