When they returned, after an hour or two, the stylist was a wreck. Apparently, O.D.B. was singing and shouting and “woahhhhhhhing” and drankin’ all through the mall! But his look was perfect, the elongated and baggy proportions were just right for his dancing and weird, wonderful movements. He used his sleeves and his hood as props. It was spot on. And the scene where he’s bare-chested in the straight mushroom wig, with the pointy shades—he was giving a little more Ike Turner than Al Green, but whatever it was, it was unforgettable! His performance was all him, and it was perfect. I know O.D.B. had some real trouble on his soul, but he brought nothing but joy to the remix, to the video, and to my world.
R.I.P. O.D.B.
“Fantasy” was a big record. It was the first single to debut at number one on the Billboard Hot 100 in history by a female artist and the second artist to ever do it (the first was Michael Jackson with “You’re Not Alone”). It held the top spot for eight consecutive weeks and remained on the charts for a total of twenty-three weeks. It was my ninth number-one single. Even the critics liked “Fantasy” and the remix (some really liked it)—the entire Daydream album did amazingly well: certified diamond. As an album it had some really special enduring singles, like “Always Be My Baby” and, of course, “One Sweet Day,” whose lyrics and music I cowrote with Boyz II Men, inspired by the passing of my incredible friend and collaborator David Cole and their tour manager, both of whom died too soon. “One Sweet Day” was the longest running number-one single in American history for twenty-three years.
I was set to perform “Fantasy” and do some other bits at the twenty-third annual American Music Awards, where I was nominated in several categories. It was a big night for me, but winning the best female pop artist and best female R & B artist awards was not the most memorable moment for me.
When I wasn’t onstage or waiting in the wings I sat in the front row next to Tommy. We were both outfitted in couture tension (the cover shoot of Daydream by photographer Steven Meisel, who was arguably the most prominent in the fashion industry at the time, set the look of the chic black-is-the-new-black style for the tone of the album’s promotion). Ironically, my outfit for this performance was giving you pseudo “Militant Mariah” vibes, with black leather pants, a black leather trench coat, and a black turtleneck (I’m sure Tommy liked it because the only skin exposed was my face). Maybe it was a premonition of what was ahead.
Because I had more than just the “Fantasy” performance to do that night, I had a trailer behind the Shrine Auditorium for wardrobe changes and such. I was returning to the trailer to get into another ensemble. Security was everywhere, so I didn’t need to be followed for the short walk to where all the artists’ trailers were parked behind the theater.
As I stepped out in a complete rush to get back to the stage, I noticed a white Rolls-Royce quietly, slowly approaching. Just as my toes touched the asphalt, the gleaming elegant vehicle came to a gentle stop right in front of my door. It was as if time itself had slowed to a stop. The tinted passenger window glided down.
He was alone, leaning back in the driver’s seat, so that the arm that gripped the leather steering wheel was nearly straight. He propped his head back just enough that his luxurious eyelashes didn’t cast a shadow and obscure his alert and amazing dark eyes that looked into mine.
“Hey, Mariah,” he said softly, my name pouring out of his lips like smoke. Then that spectacular smile burst through everything. In an instant, the window went back up, and Tupac rolled away.
Had it not been for a production assistant or someone calling me back to the stage, back to earth, I may have stayed there stunned for hours. I did my bit onstage and returned to my stiff seat next to Tommy. My heart fluttered nervously, but he didn’t know. No one knew. I’d just had Tupac Shakur’s eyez all on me.
Though I was recording Daydream, parts of my life were still quite a nightmare. I was writing and singing upbeat songs like “Always Be My Baby,” and sweeping ballads like “One Sweet Day.” I was totally inspired by the creative risk we took in collaborating with O.D.B. on the “Fantasy” remix. I was exploring my musical range, but I was also filled with rage. It’s always been a challenge for me to acknowledge and express anger. My personal life was suffocating during Daydream, and I was in desperate need of a release.
Music and humor have been my two great releases—they have been how I survived all the anguish in my life. So while I had a full band and studio time at the Hit Factory for that album, I created an alter-ego artist and her Ziggy Stardust–like spoof band. My character was a dark-haired brooding Goth girl (a version of her, Bianca, showed up a few years later in the “Heartbreaker” video) who wrote and sang ridiculous tortured songs. At the end of each session I would go off to a corner and, without over-thinking it, quickly scribble down some lyrics. In five minutes I’d have a song:
I am!
vinegar and water
I am!
Someone’s ugly daughter
I am wading in the water
And I ammm!
Like an open blister
I am!
Jack The Ripper’s Sister
I am!
Just a lonely drifter
I’d bring my little alt-rock song to the band and hum a silly guitar riff. They would pick it up and we would record
