Lust

L2

Copyright © 2021 by howblack

Y'all better vote and comment! Don't be shy, seriously. 

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As soon as Beyoncé opened her eyes that sunny Saturday morning she immediately felt stupid and strangely sad. "Great it was all a dream"

She unwrapped herself from the sheets that were tangled around her, sat up, and went in search of her cell phone that was on the small table beside her bed.

Her room was somewhat adult. While Onika's was pink - but really pink, the room could be mistaken for that of a mature 6-year-old girl - Beyoncé's was neutral, the white walls contrasted with the dark-colored abstract paintings hanging on her wall above her bed. She also had a special wall where she had several album covers of her favorite singers such as Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Tina Turner, and Prince. What could she do? She was classic.

She had numerous shelves with several books, most of them were novels and books about medicine. Yes, she studied medicine and was not even in college, it was a hobby, it took away some of her daily stress.

Turning on the device she realized that her home screen was full of notifications, notifications from Instagram. 

The blonde's heart began to beat fast and she cursed herself internally. One thing Beyoncé resented was the culminating anxiety of the inhumane treatment she received in high school. She simply hated the feeling of her heart beating three times as fast, of her hands shaking uncontrollably, of her legs going limp, and even more of the tears that never fall but always come into her beautiful honey-colored eyes. She felt weak for it, but she could handle it.

She was a big girl.

The last time she received as many notifications as now, her Instagram page was being invaded by her so-called "colleagues" with nasty comments on her pictures. She remembered as if it were yesterday when all the pictures in which she thought she was pretty were bombarded by countless comments saying just the opposite, how strange and ugly she was.

She tried so hard not to let it get to her. Was she really ugly and strange? Well, strange she knew she was, but ugly? Her self-esteem was undeniably shaken. Today she was aware of her beauty even though the daily comments imposed on her hurt.

Regardless, all those photos were archived.

Her account became private. Today she only had about 80 friends, most of them being her family as well as Kelly and Michelle's, and a few people important to her future that she met on the trips she took while competing. It was always good to have contacts and she always posted pictures of her achievements along with various trophies.

Constantine Knowles never got off her heels, but a year ago when she saw what had happened... A woman never yelled at Principal Blackwell that way. She was demanding that the whole school should be suspended, they messed with her daughter. Well, no one was suspended, the users were fake and no one ever found out who was the people behind it. 

So it is justifiable this little anxiety attack that Beyoncé is experiencing at the moment. 198 requests to follow appeared as soon as she opened the app.

 Hell no.

Just as Beyoncé was about to delete them all, change her username, and change her profile picture a message appeared at the top of the device, a message that was followed by a few others. 

+1 832 876 543

Hi, good morning!

Hm, I hope you don't think it's strange that I got your number, Mrs. Blackwell gave it to me yesterday before practice.