Enough... (Completed)

Ch. 6 (Beyoncé)

"Excuse me," I said to one of the bouncers that was standing outside of my cell.
He was tall and muscular but not like Jay, he was more bulky and he had a bald cut. He sent me a faint but genuine smile.

"How may I help you beautiful?"

"Uhm, I have to use the bathroom," I lied.

"There's a toilet right there, use it."

I turned around and looked at the rusty, beat up toilet he was referring to and then my eyes lured back to his giving him that you can't be serious look.

"Alright, but you have five minutes," he said unlocking my cell and grabbing me by the arm to escort me to the bathroom.

"Only five?" I aksed.

"Now you only have four, hurry up."

I walked into the bathroom and honestly it was no better than the rusty toilet in the cell but it can possibly be a way to escape. There was dirt everywhere and the mirrors were dirty but I still saw my reflection.

My reflection didn't look much like the Beyoncé that first came to New York with an optimistic mindset, with her best friend; two girls with big dreams. I had dreams of becoming a singer, kelly had a dream of being a model or a fashion designer, and sometimes I did photoshoots and sometimes she sang. Now I see myself in the mirror and I don't even recognize my image, it belongs to this business now. They took my image...

"Times up!" he yelled from the outside of the door.
"Just a few more seconds," I yelled back and got myself together. I wiped the few tears that sprung from my eyes and proceeded out the bathroom.

He took me by my arm again, vigorously hanging onto my elbow.

"You know you don't have to be so rough right," I snarled and he let me go.

We walked down the hall in sync and when we reached my cell he fiddled with the keys for a while.

I looked around for a while and saw a vase sitting about 3 feet away from me, at first I didn't even notice it but it made the hallway stand out.

Wait.

"Alright, back in," he said almost pushing me into the cell but I jerked my body back, grabbed the vase, and hit him across the face.

I ran down the hallway with my feet slapping against the cold tile flooring.

My mind was too full with useless information for me to find an exit.

"You're some trouble maker, you know that?" some man popped out of nowhere and said.

He looked like he was in his mid-40's he had a bit of a beard with gray hairs sticking out, dark skin and a cut. He was fat, but it was more of a beer belly.

"You know Beyoncé, you're a pretty girl, but you're a trouble maker. I might have to teach you a couple of lessons," he said looking at me, probably mentally ripping my clothes off. He then fiddled with his belt buckle and I took a step back.

"How do you know my name?" I asked him.

"I know everything about you, I have your records. You grew up in Houston, Texas; third ward to be exact. You have a younger sister and your mom and dad just recently split up. You also used to sing," he explained and my back was against the wall at this point while he continued speaking.