A/n: y'all I had an essay due that I forgot about, lmfaooo. my b
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Previously...
For a long moment, we just stared at each other, the weight of everything we'd said hanging heavy between us. And in that moment, I realized just how close we were to falling apart.
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Y/n's POV
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"You know what?" Beyoncé snapped, voice sharp but damn near tired. "I'm not about to do this with you anymore. I'm going to go wrap up lunch with my family. You—go."
And just like that, she pointed. Straight out towards the dock. No questions. No option to respond. Just—go.
I stood there a second, jaw tight as hell. My chest still on fire, like I could spit heat if I opened my mouth. But I knew if I let one word slip, this whole thing was gon' explode. More than it already had. So I swallowed the fire, nodded once, low and cool.
"Aight, Beyoncé."
She turned and walked away. That signature Bey strut, but she was holdin' somethin' in. I could see it all in the way her tanned back was flexed.
I didn't try to fix it. Didn't chase her like I usually would. Just nodded once, jaw tight, and turned around before heading in the opposite direction—but not back to the yacht. I couldn't. Not yet.
I ended up sittin' right on the edge of the beach. Dead in the sand. Elbows on my knees, jaw locked up, watchin' waves like they might give me some answers. But all they did was roll.
I was heated. Mind racin', tryna piece it all together, tryna not think too hard 'cause if I did, my chest might crack open.
I ain't wanna cuss her out. I ain't wanna say nothin' wild. I was tryna hold it down—for once. But somehow, it still ain't matter. Somehow I was still the problem. Still the one walkin' away lookin' like the villain.
And maybe I was.
Maybe I ain't realize how many versions of me she done had to forgive already. How many times I swore I'd change, then let my pride do the talkin' for me.
I shook my head, letting out a heavy breath.
Aggravated as fuck.
Then, a shadow crept up beside me.
I squinted to the side, cautious, already on edge.
Some girl. Brown-skinned, thick, glistening in the sun like she just belonged on this beach. Bikini, cover up hangin' low on her hips. Looked like she was in her element.
I turned my eyes right back to the water.
Ain't got no security? Nobody watchin' me? The fuck goin' on?
Then, like it was nothing, shorty dropped a towel right next to me. Right there. Whole damn beach, and she wanna sit here?
She couldn't sit literally anywhere else?
I gave her a little side eye, then went back to the water. Ain't feel like talkin'.
"You okay?" She asked, her voice smooth—had a lil' accent to it.
I frowned. Who the fuck was this? Tourist? Local? She a fan? Or just bold?
"I'm cool." I muttered. Dry.
She laughed, soft. "That didn't sound convincing."
I ain't say shit.
"You're not from here, huh?"
"How can you tell?"
"Your accent. You're American."
I let out a little huff. No smile, just a breath. "Guess you got me."
