:)
Rih POV
Rih: What are you even talkin' about, Beyoncé?
Bey: While we were on the plane, what was the one thing I asked you to do when we got here??
Rih: *confused* Um...
Bey: UGH! Seriously Robyn, you had ONE job!
Rih: Babe-
Bey: ONE. JOB.
I jumped down from the speaker I was sitting on and reached out to touch her hand but she smacked it away.
Bey: Don't fuckin' touch me. Not right now.
She spun on her heel and stalked away, throwing her bottle of water in a random direction. One of the many assistants groaned when he caught it in the gut, before scampering after her like a little bitch.
Rih: Where you goin'?!
Bey: *yells without turning* I'm goin' to do what I asked YOU to do!
On my mama, she didn't ask me to do shit. We didn't even speak on the plane.
We are currently in St. Louis because Bey has a show. It's basically promotion for her new, critically acclaimed album, as if she actually needs it. I personally hate it. Don't get me wrong, it's a beautifully put together piece of work. But I hate what it's about. Despite that, here I am supporting her regardless.
On top of that mountain of salt, she invited Shawn without telling me. One minute I'm asleep alone in our room on the back of the plane, and the next I wake up with her beside me. I go out into the main cabin and see this nigga reclined in a seat, watching Belly. Turns out, we picked him up in like Colorado on our way here.
Surprisingly enough I'm not so angry I could spit acid. Maybe it's because we're kind of friend...ly-ish now. Definitely not friends, but I can tolerate his presence most of the time.
I sighed for what felt like the fiftieth time since I woke up this morning, rolled my eyes and turned to hop back on the speaker when I hit a brick wall. I looked up and glared at the silly smirk on his silly ass face. He nodded in greeting.
Jay: Robyn.
Rih: *kisses teeth* Harambe.
Jay: What's wrong wit' you?
I snorted and walked around him, deciding to just chill in Bey's dressing room for a little while. It certainly beats sitting here and being stared at by all of these irrelevants like they have a front row seat to their favorite VH1 reality show. It doesn't help that Bey is actually giving them something to watch every five minutes.
I heard heavy footsteps behind me and scoffed. There were people bustling about all up and down this hallway, and my security was behind me somewhere, but I just knew Shawn was following me too. I didn't even have to turn around to know it was him.
Rih: Go somewhere, Wheelchair Legs. I'm not in 'da mood.
Jay: *chuckles* You wanna talk about it now?
Rih: If I toss a tennis ball in d'opposite direction, will you go fetch?
Jay: No.
Rih: You have ya' answer.
Jay: You know you gonna tell me.
We stood outside of Bey's room and I looked up at him for the first time, widening my eyes dramatically.
Rih: 'Ol' on. You really thought I was gonna tell you?
Jay: Yes... may I?
He gestured towards the door and before I had time to complete a full eyeroll, he was already waltzing into the room. I huffed and followed him in, heading for the mini-fridge and was pleasantly surprised. Bey had thankfully gotten it stocked with some alcohol along with her broccoli and kale smoothies, or whatever.
I reached for a few D'ussé nips before reconsidering and grabbing a bunch of random light liquors instead. Plopping down on the seat farthest from him, I popped a Patrón open and downed the full shot, staring at him expectantly while my eyes watered.
