A/n: am I back on track? 😏
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Third POV
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The lights were low and sexy, flickering red and gold off the floor like somebody set the whole room on slow burn. Bass knocked steady from behind ropes. People were either tryna be seen, or tryna escape being seen.
Y/n wasn't doing either.
She was leaned back on a leather wall booth, half a blunt tucked behind her ear like an accessory, drink in hand, chain sitting heavy on her hoodie like it paid rent. Eyes low. Smile even lower.
It had been four months since she heard Beyoncé's voice.
Four months since the last "This can't happen again, Y/n. For real this time."
And this time, she'd meant it.
Phone calls? Ignored.
DMs? Left on seen.
Text bubbles? Green.
So naturally, fate being the petty lil' instigator it is, dropped them under the same damn roof. An industry event full of too much cologne and not enough oxygen.
She hadn't noticed Bey or the girls at first—too busy letting the weed simmer in her chest. But once she did? It was over.
Leaning against a tall cocktail table like she owned the venue. Curls fresh. Lashes low. Sipping on something dark with a twist of lime. All black on. Skin glistening like cocoa butter and wealth.
Y/n laughed to herself, adjusted her watch, and started walking.
She approached with that sly ass grin, already half laughing.
"Beyoncé Knowles." She said, voice so damn confident.
Bey looked up slow. Like she already knew. Released a breath through her nose, rolled her eyes but not without a tiny smile trying to sneak out behind her glass.
"Y/n."
"Damn." Kelly muttered sipping her drink. "The city real small when you got unfinished business, huh?"
Michelle cut her eyes at her. "Don't start."
"I'm just saying." Kelly grinned.
Y/n let her eyes drag down her body and back up, obnoxiously unbothered. "Nice to see you, ma."
"Can I say likewise?" Bey shot back, raising a brow. Playful, but guarded.
Kelly and Michelle clocked it first.
"Oop." Michelle whispered and tapped her glass twice against the table.
"Y'all good?" Kelly asked sweetly. Fake sweet. "We'll give you a minute.
Beyoncé didn't even get a chance to stop them before they disappeared into the crowd. Two shady ass best friends who deep down still loved Y/n like a cousin that messed up but always showed up for cookouts.
Y/n chuckled, letting her head fall. "That's how you greet somebody you loved for four years?"
"Yes, Y/n. That's how you greet somebody you used to love." Bey corrected smoothly, glass swirling like her tone.
Y/n bit back her grin. Leaned against the other side of the table, mirroring her. Tension already thick.
"You look good, Bey."
Bey tilted her head, expression unreadable but soft at the corners. Didn't say thanks. Didn't have to.
Y/n studied her a little longer. Then smirked again.
