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The faint glow of my laptop screen illuminated my room, casting soft shadows on the walls. I sat hunched over my desk, eyes glued to the endless stream of Beyoncé-related content I'd uncovered during my deep dive.
Music videos played on loop, her sultry voice weaving between beats as she dominated the stage. Her red carpet photos were jaw-dropping-each one a masterpiece of elegance and allure. Magazine covers showcased her flawless beauty, while brand deals and billboard ads cemented her status as a global phenomenon.
I couldn't stop scrolling.
She was intoxicating-more than I'd imagined. Her success was overwhelming, her beauty unreal, and her presence magnetic. Yet, as I clicked through photos of her with Jay-Z, my brows furrowed.
"Really?" I muttered, shaking my head. He was rich and talented, sure, but damn if he wasn't... unremarkable in the looks department. They made great music together, no doubt about that, but I couldn't understand the attraction.
Closing the laptop, I leaned back with a sigh, rubbing my temples. The time in the corner of my screen read 5:45 a.m. I groaned, running my hands through my long, silky hair.
"Obsessed much?" I muttered to myself, standing and stretching. My black silk pajama set clung to me as I fastened the top few buttons, the cool fabric sliding against my skin.
I padded downstairs to the kitchen, the house still cloaked in early morning quiet. Opening the freezer, I grabbed a tub of caramel and chocolate ice cream, my guilty pleasure, and scooped a hefty spoonful into my mouth.
As I turned toward the counter, something outside caught my eye-a flicker of movement and the faint glow of smoke curling in the air.
Curious, I stepped closer to the window, peering through the glass. There she was. Beyoncé stood on the porch, bathed in the soft gray light of dawn. Her champagne-white nightgown fluttered gently in the breeze, barely reaching the middle of her thighs. A cigar was perched delicately between her fingers, and a steaming cup of coffee rested on the railing beside her.
For a moment, I just stared, captivated. She was stunning, her beauty even more striking without the layers of makeup I'd seen in photos and videos. Her bare face revealed beauty spots scattered like constellations across her cheeks and neck, each one begging to be kissed.
I hesitated, debating whether to approach her. She seemed so at ease, so untouchable in that moment, but something pulled me forward.
I slipped outside, the screen door creaking softly behind me as I stepped onto the porch. The cool morning air kissed my skin, but it did little to quell the heat rising in me as I moved closer.
