VIII

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ɴᴇᴡ ᴏʀʟᴇᴀɴꜱ
May 2018
Onika's POV

Three weeks had passed since that strange night, and life had somehow settled into a rhythm again. I still thought about the cryptic note, the eerie phone call, and the flashes of red I'd seen in Beyoncé's eyes, but with each passing day, they seemed to fade a little more into the background, like a half-remembered dream. The hallucinations weren't completely gone, but the episodes were less frequent, and I hadn't received any more strange messages or calls.

It was like everything had gone back to normal. Almost.

Beyoncé and I had been spending more time together than ever before. Every morning, she'd show up outside my building, leaning against her car with that effortless smile, like she'd been there for hours just waiting for me. We had developed this routine—morning rides to campus, lunches at our favorite café, study sessions that turned into late-night talks about everything and nothing. It was easy, comforting, like she was the one thing that kept me grounded.

I still hadn't figured out what was going on between us, though. It felt like we were hovering on the edge of something more, something deeper, but neither of us had taken that step forward yet. Sometimes, I'd catch her looking at me when she thought I wasn't paying attention, her eyes soft and thoughtful, and I'd wonder if she felt it too. But then the moment would pass, and we'd go back to pretending like we were just friends.

*Just friends.* I repeated it to myself like a mantra, even though it felt like a lie.

---
Lauren, who had been away visiting family for a while, finally came back last week. She was my best friend and practically my other half—an endless source of energy, with a wicked sense of humor and a contagious laugh that could light up the whole room. I hadn't realized how much I missed her until she crashed through my apartment door with a loud "I'm baaaack!" and tackled me into a hug that almost knocked the wind out of me.

She was the one person who knew everything about me, who had been there through every high and low. I told her about the weird night, the hallucinations, the strange phone call. I even told her about Beyoncé, though I left out the part where I was starting to feel things that friends weren't supposed to feel. Lauren listened, nodding along, her expression serious but with a hint of amusement lurking behind her eyes.

"So, let me get this straight," she said, leaning back on the couch and folding her arms. "You're telling me you've been hanging out with Beyoncé every day, she's giving you rides, buying you lunch, and you still haven't made a move? Girl, what are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?"

I groaned, burying my face in a cushion. "It's not that simple, Lauren."

"Sure it is," she said, her voice teasing. "You like her, she likes you—"

I shot up, wide-eyed. "Wait, what? She doesn't like me like that."

Lauren rolled her eyes, like I'd just said the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. "Onika, I've been back for a week, and I've seen the way she looks at you. Trust me, she's into you. The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

---

**Beyoncé's POV**

If you had asked me three weeks ago where this was all heading, I would've given some vague, evasive answer and then changed the subject. But now, I wasn't so sure anymore. Spending time with Onika had become the best part of my day, and I found myself thinking about her even when we weren't together. I'd catch myself smiling for no reason, replaying little moments in my head—like the way she'd laugh so hard her eyes would crinkle at the corners, or the way she'd blush whenever I complimented her.

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