Girls Love Beyoncé

66

THIRD POINT OF VIEW

Rum.

It was a Trinidadian's drink of choice—smooth, strong, and always close by. They drank it like water on the hottest days. Onika sat back in the folding chair, legs stretched out, glass in hand. The burn in her throat felt better than silence, and the silence had been thick between them since she arrived.

She took another sip, eyes dull, barely meeting her uncle's gaze across the table. Waka leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, eyes steady on her like he was making sure she didn't disappear again.

He'd dragged her down here himself, out of the apartment and away from the bottle she started on the moment Beyoncé walked out.

She was unraveling, and Waka didn't know how to fix her anymore. So they ended up here—at the warehouse, in front of Polito, the one person who might be able to get through.

Polito finally chuckled, striking a match and lighting a thick cigar. Smoke curled up between them like a signal.

"So let me get dis straight," he said, his accent thick and warm. "Make sure ya not pullin' mi balls on dis now." He smirked, taking a puff.

"You and dat pretty Houston girl—the one who had some of my roti, ya remember?—you not together no more?"

Onika didn't answer. She didn't even flinch. Just gave a slow shrug and brought the glass back to her lips, eyes locked on nothing.

"She left," Waka filled in, scratching the back of his neck. "Yesterday."

"Left cause ya neglect her for work, ya neglect her for money... neglect her for me?" Polito raised an eyebrow, his voice rough but steady. He watched her closely.

Still, no answer.

She took a deep swig this time, draining the glass and letting it clink back onto the table. Her shoulders slumped, but her face stayed still, unreadable.

Polito shook his head slowly. "I tell you from de moment you come work for me what it was, eh? Dis life—it's madness. You lose yuhself in it. Lose sleep, lose yuh soul. I told you, Nikki. And you tell me you could handle it."

"And I can!" Onika barked suddenly, slamming the glass down. "I've been doing just fine."

Her hands trembled, and she quickly wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve. Her legs bounced under the table, restless, like the rage inside her had nowhere to go.

Polito didn't flinch. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, smoke trailing from the corner of his mouth.

"You not fine," he said calmly. "Who you foolin'? Ya haven't seen yuh mama. Ya lose yuh woman. Yuh friends scared of you. When's the last time you see Domo?" He paused.

"Exactly. He avoiding you. Cause you movin' like a blasted idiot."

Onika didn't respond. Her jaw was clenched tight, eyes staring at the table like she could break it just by looking.

Polito exhaled slowly. "You young, so I don't expect you to know everything. But you old enough to know actions have consequences. I should take all this away from you. Send you back to school."

At the word school, her face scrunched, lips twisting with disgust. The idea of returning to Houston was like a slap.

"But I won't," he said.

"Cause I know you. You losin' yourself right now. Don't know how to come back to de you you know. You hurtin' in ways I understand. I was like you once."

He took another drink from his own glass, his voice softer now.

"I promise you, Nikki—it gets easier. You tink I come outta dis life clean? Nah. I had somebody waitin' for me. Somebody who remind me who I was. Dem stories you hear about me? Dey true. I gave up everyting for her. Got locked up for her. And I'd do it again."

His voice cracked slightly, but he kept his posture strong.

"She was de only one who never leave me. If I could trade all this back—de money, de name, de streets—I'd do it just to have her in my arms one more time."

Onika's lips parted slightly. Her breathing slowed. She didn't look up, but she was listening now.

"I tell you this cause you need to hear it," he said.

"You could be surrounded by a million people and still feel alone. And that love—de love you had wit' her? That's worth more than dis. Worth more than any of dis madness."

He tapped the table twice.

"Work all you want, Nikki. Drink, fight, run. But in de end? You'll always want more. Always be lonely. Unless you fight for what matter."

He leaned back, watching her quietly.

"Now," he said, voice calm, "you gonna keep runnin'? Or you gonna fix yuhself before it's too late?"

She had no words. Leaving the warehouse silent as she just stared off into the distance.

Waka stepped forward, finally breaking the silence. "I wasn't gonna say nothin'," he said.

"Figured I'd let y'all talk. But I gotta be real now."

He looked at her, eyes heavy. "I saw her face, O. Beyoncé. When she ran out the apartment. That wasn't just anger. That was pain. Deep pain."

Onika didn't move.

"She loves you," Waka said. "But you hurt her. And I know you're hurting too. You don't show it, but I see it. You're drinkin' too much, workin' too much, pushin' everyone away. You ain't okay."

He stepped closer, squatted beside her, trying to catch her eyes.

"You gotta stop chasin' after fixin' this relationship and take care of yourself first. Beyoncé needs time. You need time."

Still, Onika didn't look at him. Her grip on the glass tightened.

"You're in pain," Waka said, softer. "Just say that. Say it out loud."

Her lips trembled. Her eyes filled fast. She finally looked up.

"I feel like if I stop moving, I'll drown," she whispered. "Like if I slow down, it all gonna crash down on me."

Her voice shook, her accent slipping out a little.

"I wake up and I can't breathe. I feel heavy. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I just drink. I miss her so much."

She sniffled hard, then dropped the glass. It rolled off the table and hit the ground with a soft clink.

"I love her. I really do. But I messed it all up."

Waka moved beside her, pulling her in. She let him. No more holding it in. She cried into his shoulder, her whole body shaking.

"I don't think I deserve her," she said through sobs. "I feel empty."

Polito stood off to the side, quiet, watching with sad eyes.

"You gotta take care of you," Waka said gently. "You can't fix anything until you fix what's going on inside. Not for her. For you."

Onika nodded slowly, face buried in his chest.

"I'm so tired, Waka."

"I know. But you're still here. That means you got a chance."

And there, in the middle of the warehouse, Onika finally stopped pretending she was okay.

-

Thoughts?

Juthescientist❤️