Taking place five months after 'In Love With My Professor', see how Beyoncé Knowles and Megan continue to develop their volatile relationship.
Sequel to In Love With My Professor
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Megan Pete
I sat on my bed, typing up my paper for one of my summer classes. Though I'm only taking two classes over this summer break, it's still difficult for me to try to balance performances, rehearsals, traveling, events and partying while in school. But, I figured taking these two classes will push me further ahead and help me graduate faster while having a full-time demanding career.
After completing the paragraph I was typing up, I heard my doorbell and frowned.
"Farris done lost his key again." I mumbled, shaking my head.
I jumped off of my bed and made my way through my mansion, going downstairs. After becoming famous, I decided to move to LA, since that is where my career required me the most. I rented out a mansion in Beverly Hills that I fell in love with and I had my manager, who is like my brother, T. Farris, move in with me. We stay on opposite sides of the house, so we definitely have time to ourselves and are able to have peace and quiet as if we're in the house alone.
Making my way to the front door, I swung it open, prepared to scorn Farris in a playful manner, but instead seen the Angel who gives me so much hell.
"Beyoncé, what the hell!?" I yelled. "How do you even know where I live? Are you stalking me?" I questioned her with an attitude.
"I have ways of figuring out any information that I want and need to find out." She spoke with a smile.
How dare she pop up at my residence unannounced like this? We haven't spoken since I went off on her a week ago over the phone about Bagg and her divorce. She's been harassing me and trying to get me to talk to her, but I've only ignored her. I'm serious this time. I'm done with Beyoncé, until she proves to me that she's not playing me and she's actually getting a divorce.
"You're not happy to see me?" She asked, raising her eyebrow.
"You know damn well I'm not happy to see you, Giselle. Stop playing game's right now. You show up here unannounced when I have never told you my address. What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked her.
"A lot, actually." She smirked. "Are you going to let me in? Or is your 'man' here?" She air-quoted.
I sucked my teeth and rolled my eyes. "Don't start that bullshit. I can leave you standing out here and make you catch your flight back home. Before I let you in, I need you to tell me why you're here." I demanded.
She folded her arms over her chest and eyed me up and down. "We need to talk. That's why I'm here. And since you refuse to return my phone calls or respond to my texts, I decided to force you to have a civil conversation with me."
"I'm busy right now, Beyoncé, and I'm really not trying to argue with you and drain my energy when I have a paper to finish." I sighed.
"Let me in to talk to you and I can help you with your paper. It's not like I haven't helped you before." She smiled.
