BAD GYAL 4 - Michael Jackson & Beyonce lesbian love story

Chapter 73 - The Blackout

Sunday - Beyonce's POV:

Oh my God.......what happened last night? Why am I waking up between Chris and Nicki? Why are we all naked?🙍...and shit, who's at the door?

MJ's POV:

I'm mad as shit Beyonce switched her phone off last night and I'm mad as shit she still hasnt switched it back on; in fact - I'm SO MAD -I'm standing outside PBA's penthouse suite at 9am in the morning, waiting for one of these niggas (or HOES) to answer the door; I dont know what last night's special occasion was (I'm currently not talking to my brother and that means the rest of the group too) but I know PBA often have mini parties in the suite with a few groupies, then wake up mad late the next day like fuck boys.

Jet-lagged as I am, I took a 2 hour flight here so I dont care if it's too early for y'all, somebody's answering this door!😡

I slam the palm of my hand hard against the door again, "YO, OPEN UP!"

Beyonce's POV:

Crying quietly, I hear the banging at the door again and crawl off the bed like a zombie emerging from the grave; I grab my shorts and t-shirt from a messy pile of clothes on the floor, quickly put them on, hurry along the corridor then through the media room where everyone else is still sleeping - NAKED; Amber is slumped on top of Michael on a cocaine splattered bed/seat; Blac, Yazz, Tyga, Trey and Drake's interlocked bodies are on the floor like they had a drunken orgy (there's dried up semen around Blac's mouth and on her stomach).

*BANG BANG!*

As I exit the media room and hurry along the main corridor, my hungover ass wants to yell 'I'm coming!' so that the person will stop banging on the door so loudly but I have zero energy; besides, I'm feeling very anti-social right now and yelling might wake these pornstars up.

MJ's POV:

I've never wanted to kick down a door so fucking bad before😡

"Who is it?" a low, croaky voice finally answers; it's not how this person normally sounds, but of course I immediately recognize who the voice belongs to.

"Open the door, Beyonce!" I furiously reply, running out of patience.

"EMJAAYYY!" the door slides open and she throws herself into my chest, catching me off guard with an unexpected cuddle; she locks her arms around my neck then leaps up, clinging her legs around my waist and burying her face in my neck; in an instant, my neck gets wet and I know it's tears leaking from her eyes; she's breathing spasmically with an occasional sniff, like what babies do after crying, "I missed you."

"I missed you too beautiful, why you think I sent you all them messages?" I say softly, my anger melting away; as I squeeze her tight in my arms, I kiss her on the cheek, "missed you like crazy."

"I'm sorry" she expresses in a broken voice, her emotions seeming to intensify.

"It's ok" I kiss her again, this time on her forehead, hoping it'll calm her down, "I'm here. I'm with you now."

"Ok" she breathes; she still hasnt calmed down tho.

"What did you do last night?" I whisper loudly in her ear as my hand gently caresses the back of her head, "you can tell me, I promise I'll stay calm."

If it's bad, of course I'ma get mad but I'ma still try my best not to kill more than one person.

"Nothing" she breathes, the dampness from her tears and snot seeping into my shirt.