The Wife's Nightmare | Y/N

18

THE MUSE

I got a package that the kids washing my car at the hospital found in my car.

I opened it, it was lipstick and a phone. It looked like Beyonce's phone. It was off, I had it charged to confirm it was hers.

It was really her phone.

When the Hell did she forget it here?
I took the phone to her house personally. I mean I had an excuse to see my daughter.

She opened the door after I rang the bell.
The baby was crying, the living room looked like a mess. She tried blocking me out of the house.

"I found your phone in my car."
She slowly received it.

"You really lost my number?" I asked politely.
She nodded. "I get that but there is Amie and our son. Family members, you could have asked from but you chose not to" I said.

"You wanna do this right now or wanna help me with the baby? Rosey is home sick" she said.

I walked in and picked the baby up. She kept quiet.
Beyonce looked at us. "I did everything, picked her up, changed her, fed her bathed her... Played with her, but she couldn't stop crying"

I didn't reply to that. I just paced on the floor, calming my baby down, meanwhile, Beyonce was cleaning the place up. Blue fell asleep. I put her down. Placed a kiss on her cute chubby cheeks and snapped a picture of her.

"Thank you!" Beyonce said. I just nodded, I avoided talking because I had too much anger inside me.

I headed to the door.

"Y/n...I made dinner"

"not hungry. enjoy your dinner" I said and exited.

Nicki messaged me

*I have been on the internet, I know you have been going through it. I really am sorry. But how could she be so bitter? She ain't innocent in all these. She and I had phone sex the day before you had a dream. She came on the fucking phone with me. That's just unfair*

Wow! None of this was making me feel better. It made me feel worse.

It was time for me to move on with my life.

THE WIFE

My stress level was over 100. It wasn't easy being a single mom. My son hated me. Nicki texted me a couple of times telling me how disappointed she was in me. I didn't know how to fix it.

I tried making music, but my head was blank. I couldn't find anything to write about. I tried hard, and did exercises but still Nothing.

My fans will be expecting an album soon and I had nothing. I turned to my producer for advice, but it didn't help. Got into therapy. Nothing.

I tried writing about having no motivation or inspiration to make music... It didn't come out right. Nothing worked, is like my music didn't exist anymore. The music died in me.

I asked my housekeeper for advice. She smiled

"what usually inspires the music in you?"

I thought about it. "I just write and sing, it always works but not recently."

"What do you usually write about?"

"My life," I said thinking. "My sex life-"

I thought deeply. "My hurt!"

"Your life, your sex life, your hurt! Equals to Y/n" she said. "What do you mean"

"your ex-wife is your inspiration and now that she is completely gone, the music in you is dead too. you need her to make music" she said and stood up. "that can't be right, I was beyoncé before that girl came along"