Nobodys Pov
The room was bathed in dim, golden light, the kind that made everything feel warmer, softer. A gentle breeze blew through the open window, carrying the distant hum of city life, but inside, the only sounds were the crackle of vinyl spinning and the smooth beat of a slow jam filling the space. It was one of those nights—the kind where time seemed to stretch, where every second felt more meaningful, more charged.
Beyoncé leaned back against the couch, her head resting on the edge as her eyes fluttered closed. She hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time. Not since the whirlwind of her unexpected return to music. But tonight wasn't about work, wasn't about the pressure of the industry or the spotlight. Tonight was just... easy.
Across the room, Nicki swayed to the rhythm, her hips moving in time with the slow, seductive beat. She caught Beyoncé's gaze and smiled, that playful, knowing grin that always made Beyoncé's heart skip a beat.
"You like this one?" Nicki asked, her voice low and teasing as she twirled in place, the fabric of her silk robe catching the light.
Beyoncé smiled lazily, her eyes half-lidded as she watched Nicki dance. "Mmhmm. Takes me back. This is that real slow jam vibe. Feels like the kind of night you never want to end."
Nicki moved closer, her movements unhurried, like she had all the time in the world. "That's the point of a good slow jam, isn't it? It makes you want to stay in the moment. Makes everything feel... deeper."
Rihanna, sitting on the arm of the couch, chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You know what this is. This is that 'get closer' music. The kind you play when you want to set the mood."
Beyoncé laughed, her voice light, but there was something else beneath it. A tension. An unspoken invitation hanging in the air. "Is that what you're doing? Setting the mood?"
Nicki leaned over the back of the couch, her face inches from Beyoncé's, her breath warm against her skin. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just seeing where the night takes us."
Beyoncé felt the heat rise in her chest, but she played it cool, her smile soft and mysterious. "I guess we'll see."
Rihanna picked up the remote and turned the volume up a notch, the smooth voice of Jamie Foxx crooning through the speakers, blending with Twista's rapid-fire verses. The song filled the room, wrapping around them like a warm embrace.
Nicki slid onto the couch beside Beyoncé, her thigh pressing against hers as she stretched her legs out. Rihanna moved to sit on the other side of Beyoncé, casually draping an arm around her shoulders. It was such a natural movement, but the weight of it, the closeness of them all, made Beyoncé's pulse quicken.
"You remember nights like this?" Rihanna asked, her voice soft and intimate. "When it was just about the music, the vibe? Before everything got so... complicated?"
Beyoncé nodded slowly, her mind drifting back to the early days, when it was just her, her girls, and the music. The hustle, the ambition, and the raw, unfiltered joy of singing. It felt so far away now, but nights like this—nights with Nicki and Rihanna—made her feel like maybe she could get some of that back.
Nicki, sensing Beyoncé's quiet reflection, leaned in closer, her voice a low whisper in her ear. "You want to feel that again, don't you? That freedom. That joy."
Beyoncé's breath hitched, and she turned her head to meet Nicki's gaze. There was something in Nicki's eyes that sent a shiver down her spine—something daring, something challenging. But also something comforting.
"Yeah," Beyoncé whispered. "I do."
Rihanna's fingers gently traced patterns on Beyoncé's arm, her voice smooth as silk. "Then let's just be here. In this moment. Forget everything else."
