All 13 of us got off the plane. I, my 3 bodyguards, my mom, her 2 bodyguards, my dad and his 2, and my brother and his 2. We waited for a car to pick us up, and we requested a limo van since it's a lot of us.
"I can't believe were in California!" My mom exclaimed, taking pictures for her Instagram. I would be doing the same but my PA team put a passcode on all social media sites on my phone, cause last time I may or may not have cussed someone out and said I'll fuck their mom, even though she was dead. I had a reason though!
He was coming for me talking about I can't sing, but I got 1 album and it's a diamond record so suck that bitch.
We pulled up to the Bel-air hotel 30 minutes later. I bought everyone their own room, even the bodyguards, It's like their break own vacation right now.
The party is in 5 days and I still need an outfit. "Mom, what is roller disco?" I asked. "I don't know let's ask google!"
"It's like sparkly stuff," I told her. "Ok, call Enrique, and ask him if he can make you an outfit."
"Ok," I pulled my phone out and called Enrique. Enrique is my favorite stylist ever, he lives in Los Angeles so it's easier for him to get me clothes right now.
"Hi, Enrique, Guess where I am..." "Mexico?" "No, I'm in California." I chucked "I'm here for Beyonce's party, an-" before I could even finish. "Yes! I will design you an outfit, come to the store and look at some things I already made." He said excitedly. "Babe, I'm designing an outfit for someone going to Beyonce's party!" He said sounding far away. "Ok, I'll be there in like 30 minutes." I hung up. "Mom I'm going to Enriques store," I said before I left and called the Driver.
the drive there was silent, and kind of boring. "Here we are." The car came to a stop. Fuck, paparazzi and shit and I'm dressed like a bum.
"Thank you." I got out the other way and ran to the Gucci store across the street, I looked around and found a nice sweater and some jeans for 1.5k "damn." I mumbled, swiping the card.
I changed into the clothes and then walked to Enrique's.
"Hi, Azi!" He hugged me. "Hey, Enrique." I hugged back. "So what are you looking for?" "I'm looking for something sparkly, that'll stand out." "Ok, we have this golden suit, covered in crystals." He suggested as we walked over to it. "Eh, it ain't my taste."
"Maybe I can design something?" He suggested. "What do you think?" he asked and the image came straight to my mind. "Can you do the Rock with your outfit?" I asked. "Yes, Come here."
He led me to a thing on the floor, I don't know what it's called. I stepped on top of it and waited as I got tailored. "This outfit is too big on you." Enrique's assistant told me. "I know I just bought it" I chuckled because this is awkward, someone touching all around my waist.
"I can't get accurate measurements the pants are too big, and so is the sweater." He told Enrique. "ask him to take it off." Enrique said like he wanted to add "duh" to the end of it.
"Can you take all these baggy clothes off?" "Yea..." I took off the sweater and my pants, I feel uncomfortable. "Ok, I got it." The assistant left, handing me my baggy clothes.
I got dressed and walked to Enrique, "Ok, I can have it done in 5 days." "Ok, that's great!" "Where do I pay?" He turned around a pin pad machine and I stuck my card in. "30 grand?" I whispered to myself as I entered the pin. "We're working on it right now." He smiled as I left.
Damn this 50 million going real quick. You're probably like "How did he get 50 million?" Well, My first album instantly went Diamond, lucky right? and it grossed $50 million in sales, I got 20 million from that. Then I went on tour and gained $60 million dollars, and got 30 million from that, so It adds up. I been hanging onto that 50 million for 2 years, but google swears my net worth is 5 million.
--
"Isaac look what I got," My mom said, I turned around and it was my outfit Enrique made. "Try it on," She put it on my bed and walked out.
I put it on and walked to my mom and dad's room. "Like it?" I asked. "Yes!" They both said. Ivan walked in and saw me. "You look like a homosexual." He chuckled. "Kill yourself." I smiled at him. "Alright I'ma go hang it up and take a nap," I said as I left.
--
Dre pulled into the little curve thing in front of the mansion and dropped me off. "Have fun lil dude, no drinking!" He warned me. "Yessir" I got out the Rolls Royce Cullinan we rented, I'm thinking of buying one, and a Maybach.
I walked inside and the paparazzi took pictures of me. I looked around at the flashing lights and everything. I just wanna know where the fuck Beyonce is.
I walked around, looking for something to do. I have never really been to a party. I found some punch and put some in a cup. Of course, it's spiked, but I don't care. I danced to the music a little and even sang some. Once I calmed down I stood there and I felt someone bump into me. "I'm sorry." I heard.
I turned around. "Your fi-" I froze, It was Beyonce, Be-motherfucking-yonce. She just chuckled and kept on going. I broke from my trance and looked around, Photo booth!
I grabbed some accessories and took some pictures by myself, some with Kim Kardashian, and some with Offset.
I love life right now.
I bumped into someone on accident when going to find more punch, He turned around, and when I tell yall he was fine! Wait no, not fine, good-looking.
"I'm so sorry." I apologized. "It's alright, I'm Justin Combs." He shook my hand. "I'm Azi." I introduced myself using my stage name. "I know who you are, I really like your music." "Thank you." I grinned really hard. "Your lisp is cute." He smiled.
See, now I'm embarrassed. Someone else bumped into me and I turned around and it was Beyonce again. She stood behind me, smiling. "I'm so proud of you Isaac, I want you to keep doing what your doing, never give up, and when people don't like it, keep doing it until they do." She gave some great advice. "Isaac?" Justin said. "Yea... Thank you, Beyonce!" I hugged her. "When you finish your album let me know so I can listen to it." She smiled again and my phone buzzed.
"How-" I looked up and she was gone. How does she know all this information like my name, my number, and my album?? That's why she's mother. "Isaac, can I have your number?" Justin asked, sure It's..."
I gave him my number and then left to go party more, I met Adel, and Lizzo today!
How yall like my vision of Beyonce's party?
