CTRL

VI

ɴᴇᴡ ᴏʀʟᴇᴀɴꜱ
ᴀᴘʀɪʟ 2018
Onika's POV

I woke up to the sun glaring through my window, piercing straight through my eyelids like a red-hot needle. My head was throbbing, a dull, persistent ache pulsing at my temples. The hangover was bad—worse than usual. I groaned, rolling over to bury my face in the pillow, but the pain only grew sharper, echoing behind my eyes. *Damn those cocktails,* I thought, a vague memory of the night before bubbling to the surface. Beyoncé and I had danced and laughed, losing ourselves in the music, the drinks, and the dim, hazy lights of the bar.

With a sigh, I sat up, pushing my hair out of my face. My head swam, and I had to close my eyes for a second, waiting for the dizziness to pass. I reached for my phone on the nightstand, checking the time. *11:42 a.m.* Late, even for me. I had missed my morning class, and there was no way I was going to make it to the next one either.

Then I remembered the pills. Dad had given them to me a while back, insisting they would help with the "episodes"—the hallucinations I'd been having for as long as I could remember. I used to see things, hear voices that no one else could. At first, it was just shadows out of the corner of my eye, whispers that drifted in and out of my dreams. But as I got older, the hallucinations became more vivid, more... real. Faces peering at me through mirrors, voices calling my name when I was alone, creatures lurking in the dark.

Dad said the pills would help, and for the most part, they did. The hallucinations didn't go away completely, but they dulled. The shadows were less dark, the whispers quieter. I reached for the little orange bottle, my fingers fumbling as I twisted the cap off. Two small, white pills rolled into my palm, and I swallowed them quickly, washing them down with a gulp of water.

*It's going to be okay,* I told myself, even as my hands shook. The pills would kick in soon, and the ache in my head would fade, along with the weird, hazy memories of last night. I'd get through the day, just like I always did.

I threw on a hoodie and some jeans, not bothering to do much more than brush my hair. My reflection in the mirror looked pale, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. I splashed some water on my face, hoping it would make me feel a little more human, but it didn't do much. I still felt... off.

As I was about to head out, my phone buzzed with a text from Beyoncé.

**Beyoncé:** *Hey, you up? Let's grab lunch. My treat.*

I hesitated, staring at the message. Last night was fun, but there was something I couldn't quite shake. A nagging feeling, like I was forgetting something important. Something that had happened after the bar, when we'd gone exploring. I couldn't remember exactly, just flashes—a dark hallway, a man's face, Beyoncé's eyes glinting red in the shadows. But that couldn't be right. *Could it?*

Still, I needed to get out of my head, and being with Beyoncé always helped. She had this way of making the world feel less... heavy. I sent back a quick reply.

**Me:** *Yeah, sure. Where?*

We met at a small café not far from campus, one of those places that was always packed with students cramming for midterms. Beyoncé was already there when I arrived, sitting by the window with her hair pulled back, sunglasses perched on top of her head. She looked impossibly calm, like she hadn't been out drinking and dancing until the early hours of the morning.

"Hey, you," she said with a bright smile, sliding a cup of iced coffee across the table toward me. "Rough night?"

"You could say that," I muttered, taking a sip. The caffeine helped, but the throbbing in my head still hadn't gone away. "Do you remember anything... weird from last night?"