Black Celebrity One-Shots (2000s)

Pray You Catch Me (pt. 3)

"Bey, open up!"

"It's us, please, we want to talk to you."

The words echoed through the walls of my apartment, a plea filled with urgency and desperation. But I couldn't bring myself to move, my was body frozen.

This couldn't be happening.

Not so soon.

I was stuck in my penthouse for days, unable to move, to speak, to eat. I sat in my bed, staring blankly at the TV screen. The sound was turned off, but I could see the video plastered across the screen, along with headlines screaming about how I should have stepped in to stop it. I hadn't been this depressed in almost 15 years, when I lost two of my best friends over something so trivial. Something that wasn't even my fault.

Memories of loss, heartbreak, and public scrutiny that I had long since buried from that time came flooding back to me. They were like a tidal wave, threatening to consume me once again. I felt like I was drowning in my own sorrow, and I didn't know how to come up for air.

My heart pounded in my chest, blocking out all other sounds.

I knew who was on the other side of that door.

They pressed the intercom button and I heard the buzzer sound again.

"Bey, please! We want to help!"

I didn't move a muscle.

"Please..."

A voice I hadn't heard in months began to ring in my ear. I recognized it instantly and my heart fluttered as I finally realized who else was standing outside my door. I slowly stepped out of my bedroom and approached the intercom in the living room, hesitating for a moment before pressing the button.

"Michelle?" I whispered.

Her voice was soft and gentle. "Yes, it's me," she confirmed.

I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.

"Can we come in?" Michelle pleaded. "We really need to talk."

I heaved a heavy sigh and slowly pressed the other button to unlock the door.

"Thank God," Solange said through the intercom as they entered the apartment.

I could hear their footsteps echoing through the hallway as they called out for me. As soon as they found me, they rushed to my side, enveloping me in a warm embrace. I buried my face in Solange's shoulder as Kelly and Michelle joined in, forming a protective circle around me. They were all silently sobbing, their tears falling on my skin, but I couldn't cry. I was too numb, too disconnected from reality to feel anything at all.

I had always been fiercely protective of my private life, and now the whole world had a front-row seat to my family's drama. I didn't know if I could handle the scrutiny and judgment that was sure to come.

"Please, Beyoncé. Don't shut us out," Kelly begged. "Let us help you."

"I can't," I replied quietly. "I'm sorry."

"No, please, listen to me," she urged. "We want to help you through this. If there's anything we can do, we'll do it."

"There's nothing y'all can do at this point," I said, shaking my head. "I mean, I appreciate your concern and I'm sure you're doing this because you love me, but this isn't something you can fix."

"What are you going to do then?" Michelle asked.

"I'll have to talk to Yvette soon. Do some damage control. Stay on the low for a bit."