Please. (UNDER CONSTRUCTION)

5.

Nicki

I walked from my kitchen, to my sofa. As soon as I sat down, the door bell rang. I rolled my eyes. "As soon as I get my shit together, someone comes over. Great." I mumbled, getting up and walking to the door.

When I opened it, Beyoncé stood there with a laptop in her hands. She had on a white t shirt, and light blue jeans that fit her body just right. I licked my lips. "What brings you by so late?" I let her in.

She smiled. "Because, I wanted to know more about you, so I came over." She sat down, opening her laptop.

I creased my eye brows. How the hell did she get my address in the first place? "Umm, how'd you get my address?"

She chuckled. I'm really starting to think this bitch is crazy. "All my clients have an address put down. I simply put it in my GPS, now here I am!"

I sat next to her, watching her type at a fast pace. "Don't you find it a little....creepy to just show up without calling?"

She stopped typing to look at me. "Assuming from how our last conversation went, I didn't want to get off on the wrong foot, so I just showed up." She furrowed her eye brows, putting on a serious face. "I didn't interrupt anything did I?"

I chuckled, scooting back all the way on the sofa. I shook my head. "No, unless you count the fact that I was about to Netflix and chill, but I have time." I smiled.

Her eyes lit up. "Oh, that sounds fun." Her expression saddened. "I haven't done that in awhile actually...hence the fact that I have no one to do it with." She slightly laughed.

I creased my eye brows. "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "I really don't want to talk about it."