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For Angel.

Nicki POV

I hate award shows. I guess back in the day, it was sort of nice to be publicly recognized for your talent and all that, but I don't feel like that really is the case now. It's not about talent anymore, not really.

I'm sitting in this front row seat at the VMA's, miserable as all Hell, because my baby is upset with me and I can't fix it. Well, I could've, but I just didn't have the courage to. Meek is my date tonight, while the woman I wanted to take, is not. Because she is a woman. They're announcing the nominees for another category I think I was nominated in...

Yay, I won. I went up and thanked the right people, before mentally saying 'fuck it'. This doesn't mean shit anyway.

Nicki: And now... back to... dis bitch dat had alot to say about me da otha day in da press- Miley, what's good?

The chrowd jeered and cheered. Rebell hyped them up before escorting me backstage after a few seconds.

Rebell: I'm going to get back out there, but you're alright?
Nicki: Yeah, I'm good.
Rebell: Ok. Well, congrats, then...
Nicki: Thank you.

I watched her walk off and felt my phone vibrate near my breast, under my dress. Checking the I.D., I sighed before answering.

Nicki: Yeah?
Bey: Onika. I love you, but that shit was wild unprofessio-
Rih: Aye! Nick!

It sounded like Rih was yelling from across the room. I sighed, because of course this bitch had me on speaker.

Nicki: Bey, you got me on speaker?
Bey: *sweetly* Maybe.
Rih: Aye! I'm fuckin' talkin' to you, Onika!
Nicki: *groans* Yes, Robyn?
Rih: Wah d'fuck was dat shit? Thought we was grown?
Nicki: I am, but-
Rih: No fuckin' up bony white girls or Ima fuck you up! Ya 'ear me? Dead dat shit.
Nicki: She-
Rih: So what?! She a weirdo anyway. I know you all in ya feelins 'cause dat skank stole yo' man an'-
Nicki: First of all, I'm fine! I ain't worried about Meek or anyone else! I got Cyn and the Lord, so no "Erica" formed against me shall prosper. Plus, black men will go anywhere, so her "stealing" my man is no accomplishment.
Rih: All I'm sayin' is, you can't be out dere pullin' Yeezys. Only Yeezy can pull a Yeezy, ight?
Nicki: *kisses teeth* Ight, ight... I won't touch her. You done?
Rih: Nah. Get ya ass back to ya seat. I know you waitin' in d'back. Security ain't gon' letchu anywhere near 'er anyway.

Damn. I stood up.

Nicki: Ight. I got it, I'm goin'.
Rih: Get back to Twitta Fingas 'fore he go lookin' for you, wit' 'is rachet ass.
Nicki: *sighs* Robyn, why you always gotta?
Rih: 'Cause he is rachet. We don't fuck wit' those, Nini.
Nicki: *kisses teeth* Comin' from the girl who fucked Erica Mena. Twice.
Rih: Whoa!
Bey: ROBYN!
Nicki: Oh, shit. Didn't realize I was still on speaker. *giggles* Whoops.
Rih: Fuck-
Bey: *yells from background* Robyn! You FUCKED ERICA MENAAA?!

The line went silent.

Nicki: Hello?

I pulled the phone away from my ear to see Robyn had hung up. The incident was years ago, but I've been dying to say something since Cyn told me. Bey is probably throwing a fit.

I smiled contentedly as I made my way back to my seat. My smile dropped when I saw Meek smiling at me like he just won the lottery. Oh god, I'm acting just like him... immature and unprofessional. I turned and saw him leaning in to kiss me, so I turned away and patted his leg. Cute.

Rih POV

I just got in from Sonya's wedding and already I'm in some shit.

Bey: What is she talkin' about, Robyn?
Rih: 'Ow d'fuck am I supposed to know? She crazy.
Bey: *stands* Oh, so now you just gon' sit up there and lie to my face?!

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