𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞

“ A Thin Line ”

The room was abuzz with anticipation as President Onika Maraj prepared to address the nation. The stakes were high, and everyone knew it. Backstage, Beyoncé watched Onika, taking in her commanding presence. Onika was dressed in a royal blue suit with a crisp white shirt underneath. Her straight, sleek hair cascaded down her back, exuding confidence and power.

As Onika stepped up to the podium, the room fell silent. She looked directly into the camera, her eyes fierce and determined. Beyoncé couldn't help but feel a magnetic pull, as if Onika was speaking directly to her soul.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Onika began, her voice steady and authoritative, "we stand at a crossroads in our nation's history. Today, we must choose not just the path of least resistance, but the path of integrity, of resilience, and of unwavering commitment to justice."

Beyoncé’s heart raced as she listened, captivated by Onika’s every word. The passion, the strength—it was all-consuming.

"And so," Onika concluded, her gaze never wavering from the camera, "let us move forward together, united in purpose, and unyielding in our pursuit of a brighter future for all."

As the last empowering words left Onika’s lips, Beyoncé felt a shiver run down her spine. It was as if Onika was looking directly at her, speaking to her alone.

Just then, Drake appeared beside Beyoncé, a knowing look in his eyes. "Still don’t want this job?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Beyoncé turned to him, her expression a mix of annoyance and resignation. "You knew exactly what you were up to when you begged me to work for her," she said, her voice low but intense. "You knew I was going to fall for her."

Drake smirked. "I’m beginning to think you want me out of my job."

"That’s exactly what I want," Drake replied smoothly. "After what you did to Robyn, I can't—"

"That was protocol, Drake," Beyoncé interrupted sharply, her eyes flashing with frustration.

Before Drake could respond, Onika appeared, her presence commanding immediate attention. "Beyoncé, I need you," she said, her tone urgent yet controlled.

Beyoncé closed her eyes and sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. Drake leaned in closer, his voice a mocking whisper. "You hear that? She needs you."

Beyoncé opened her eyes, her gaze locking with Onika’s. "I’m coming," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

Onika nodded, her expression softening slightly. "Thank you."

As they walked away, Beyoncé could feel Drake’s eyes on her, but she pushed the thought aside. She had a job to do, and right now, that meant being there for Onika.

They moved quickly through the halls of the White House, Onika briefing Beyoncé on the situation at hand. The intensity of the moment made everything else fade into the background.

Once they were in the secure room, Onika shut the door and turned to Beyoncé, her expression a mixture of frustration and relief.

"The numbers are still going down," Onika said, her voice tight with concern. "What’s going on?"

Beyoncé, who had already started working on resolving the issue, glanced up from her phone. "Don’t worry about it. In a few minutes, they’ll be up. Trust me."

Onika’s eyes narrowed. "Are you fucking Drake?"

Beyoncé’s reaction was immediate and visceral. "Ew, no. Oh God, no!" She shook her head vigorously. "Why are you asking me that anyway? It’s not your place."