Saturday, July 9, 2022 The Rooftop Los Angeles, California 9:35 pm
Beyoncé sat down at the rooftop bar of the aptly named establishment The Rooftop. She silently sulked in her seat as she debated whether or not to order a drink.
She was deep in thought when she heard someone trying to get her attention.
"Excuse me, miss," she heard someone saying.
Beyoncé looked around to see an attractive young man sitting two stools down from her.
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"I'm sorry to bother you. I just wanted to make sure that you're alright. It just looks like you're having a really bad day," he said to her.
"How could you tell?" she asked him.
"Well, you're a beautiful woman sitting at a bar alone on a Saturday night sulking with a frown on your face. If you're happy, you have a really weird way of showing it," he told her.
"So you think I'm beautiful?" she asked him with a small smirk on her face.
"Anyone with eyes can see that you're beautiful," he replied.
"Careful. If you keep talking to me like that, I might think you're flirting with me," Beyoncé joked.
"And would it be so bad if I was?" he asked.
"So is this what you do every night? Sit at a bar and wait for women looking sad to walk in because you think they might be desperate enough to give you and your corny ass lines a chance?" she asked him.
"Feisty. I like it," he chuckled.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes.
"I'm Michael," he introduced himself.
"I'm not in the mood for this," she replied.
"You're not going to tell me your name?" he asked her.
"You haven't earned it," she replied.
"What have you got to lose?" Michael asked her.
"My dignity, my sanity, my integrity. Take your pick," Beyoncé shot back.
"You're really funny. You know that?" he asked her.
"I can promise you that I'm not joking," she replied.
"So what's got you this upset on a Saturday night?" he questioned.
"At the moment, you," she told him.
"I'm talking about the reason you even came here tonight. What or who are you trying to escape?" Michael asked her.
