Megan
I take sips of alcohol as Ámala sits between my legs playing her game. She aggressively cusses out someone else in the server.
My mind slips to Beyoncé but immediately stops when she yells or throws the controller.
My friends have been insistent on me "moving on", but the only thing holding me back is Beyoncé.
"Gimme a sip, M." She says in a funny voice.
I smile a bit and lift her chin up and slowly pour. Feels like I'm the person in charge of water at a football game.
"Wanna play?" Ámala moves the microphone away from her mouth.
"Nah, I'm good."
I hear muffled chatter from other people in the game and Ámala smacks my thigh.
"Not my girl, but... hold on let me show you." She points the webcam to me.
I try to cover my face but am unsuccessful. I get catcalled and drooled over by whoever is on the call. Ámala smacks my thigh and I chuckle to hide the fact that I want Beyoncé. I'd rather be a prude than have anyone other than Beyoncé.
"No, Derick, my bestie, she's off limits. Keep your ass on her so I can swoop in and kill your t--"
Ámala is concentrated on shooting someone up and I excuse myself to the kitchen.
I grab myself some alcohol. Ámala isn't much of a drinker so it's always been up to the rest of us to finish them for her. I have plenty to choose from.
I want Beyoncé.
I chug some alcohol down and grab another bottle from Amala's stash in case and go back to the couch. I rest my head on the armrest of the couch and let my best friend hold my feet under the controller.
As she yells and fussed about losing and dying I try my best to cancel her out and think about Beyoncé.
My mind drifts to her scent and I hide my face in a crack in the couch allowing my mind to take that thought and drown in it.
I should be happy I got out of prison, but now I'd do anything to be back in that damn cell. Back in Beyoncé's mere presence.
