The flirtatious girl next door is hopelessly in love with Beyoncé, but Beyoncé is too blind to see. Will she notice her before it's too late?
Read to find out :)
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Beyoncé's POV Michael stayed the night at my place. He doesn't usually sleep over so it was weird waking up next to him. It was only a little past noon and he had already started drinking.
I knew it was a bad idea for him to be consuming so much alcohol with no food in his system so I was in the kitchen making him a sandwich.
"Don't think I didn't notice them hickeys all over you. Who you been fuckin? Hm?" He said walking up next to me, touching the red love marks that was left on my neck.
I raised my eyebrow. "Is that any of your business"
He breathed out harshly through his nose and nodded. "Alright. I guess your right. But you better dead that shit"
"Why should I? You not my man"
"Don't act like you not gon take me back" he said coming up behind me and pulling me in his arms.
"I don't know mike. You got some competition now so I suggest you step it up"
He scoffed, removing his hands from my waist. "Competition? Ain't no nigga better than me"
I laughed at his instant assumption it was with a man. "Who said it was a nigga"
"Your joking" he laughed. I shrugged And his face got more serious.
"A bitch can't do what a man do"
I scoffed. "Don't be misogynistic"
"Just hurry up and make my sandwich. And don't forget the pickles" he instructed as he walked away.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed the jar of pickles from the refrigerator. I tried to open it but the top wouldn't budge so I asked Michael to help.
He twisted the lid and his hands slipped right off. He rubbed his hands on his side hoping to get a better grip on the jar after failing to open it the first time. He tried again and again and struggled just the same. I shook my head. Yea, cause I need a man. He can't even open a pickle jar.
"What was that you were saying about what a man can do?" I asked.
He snarled his lips in anger and threw the jar of pickles at me. I fell to the floor as soon as the glass shattered against my legs. He looked down at me, rolling his eyes and walking out of my apartment.
I leaned my head back against the cabinet door behind me and cried silently. At least I thought it was a silent cry.
I was crying so hard that I didn't notice Robyn coming inside my place.
"Bey?" I nearly jumped at the sound of her voice and she quickly put her hands up in defense.
"Sorry I didn't mean to scare you. I knocked but-" she stopped in the middle of explaining herself, seeing that it wasn't important right now. "What happened?"
