Look, I know girls love Beyoncé.
Girls love to fuck with your conscience.
Girls hate when n*ggas go missing.
And shawty, you ain't no different.
Onika (G!P)
Completed.
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THIRD POINT OF VIEW
Zahir stood close—too close—behind Beyoncé, hands lightly on her waist as he helped her aim the ball. Her fingers were barely in place before he leaned in, his breath tickling her ear.
"Relax your wrist. Let it roll, not fly."
She squinted, giggling. "You tryna coach me or flirt with me?"
"Why not both?"
She laughed, stumbling forward a bit as she released the ball. It glided down the lane—smooth, focused—and when it hit?
Strike.
"OH!" she squealed, jumping up and throwing her hands in the air like she just won the lottery.
"Did you see that?! Bad bitches get strikes!"
Zahir laughed, throwing his palm up. "That's all you, that's you!"
Their high five turned into a full moment—hands lingering, eyes locked, energy buzzing between them like the lights above. They'd been around each other for, what, three hours tops? But the vibe was already undeniable.
Lauren, Jayda, and India clocked it too. But they said nothing—just gave each other looks and stayed in their own lane, letting Beyoncé breathe.
"Okay, I'm dizzy, hold on." She giggled again, grabbing Zahir's hand as he led her toward the seats. They dropped down into a booth near the back, tucked away from the crowd.
She curled up easily, tossing her legs across his lap like it was nothing. He didn't flinch—just rested his arm around her shoulders, comfortable.
"Can I ask you something?" he said, his tone a little lower now. "Where's your girl? For real."
Beyoncé tilted her head, caught off guard.
"She not here?" he added, already knowing the answer. "Trouble in paradise?"
She looked at him for a second, then shrugged. "I'm single."
He raised a brow. "Is that right?"
She nodded, calm. "As of like... two hours ago."
Zahir laughed, the kind that made his dimples show. "Damn. That's crazy."
She narrowed her eyes playfully. "What's crazy?"
"That your girl ain't know I work overtime."
Beyoncé blinked, then laughed. "Overtime, though?"
"Uh huh," he leaned in a little. "Off the clock, too. Unpaid, passionate labor. Real consistent."
"You are not serious."
"I'm so serious."
She shook her head, biting her lip to keep from smiling too hard. "You're annoying."
