Bey POV
I can not believe this nigga is really calling me asking for favors. He can go to Hell, as far as I'm concerned.
Bey: Go to Hell, Shawn.
Jay: Bey, please. If you ever loved me at all, I am asking you to do this one last thing for me. It's nothin' big, and I think it might even help you out a lil'.
It wouldn't hurt to hear him out, right? I can still say no.
Bey: *sighs* What is it?
Jay: Ima just be blunt. I need you to pretend to be my wife for a few events I have comin' up over the next couple months.
Bey: HE-
Jay: Only in front of cameras! Only in front of cameras. Look, that stunt you pulled outside that club didn't only affect you, Bey!
I paused. He did have a point.
Bey: Yeah...Shawn, I just wanted to apologize for that. It was wild irresponsible of me to get that fucked up, and I wasn't even thinking about how it would affect everyone else.
Jay: It's ok. You have yet to publicly address it, so no one knows anything. If, for a couple months, the paparazzi get pics of us together going about our merry way like nothin' happened, they will eventually drop it like always.
Bey: And?
Jay: Whatchu mean?
Bey: Ok, I really am hangin' up now.
Jay: Ok, wait. Beyoncé, I love you. And I know you don't believe that-
I scoffed.
Jay: -but I do. You are my first real love, and you will forever be my last. I don't want anything less than you. I know I've made some really bad mistakes, we both have. But not fightin' for you one last time would be the one mistake I'd regret the most. So when you agree to help me, I'll make you see that we were meant for each other.
Bey: What makes you think I'm even considerin' this bullshit?
Jay: *chuckles* You ain't hung up yet.
Bey: I'll get back to you.
Jay: Ok.
Bey: Ight. And don't call me. Ima call you.
Jay: Ok. I lo-
I hung up and sighed.
Two Weeks Later
Rih POV
Mel and I were currently lounging around my hotel room in London with the team, waiting to head back to the states. We'll be at Coachella in 2 days and I'm excited. Right now I'm rolling the fattest blunt possible, hoping it'll calm me down. I feel like Mel's been trying to get me mad like, all day. I haven't said anything yet, but I'm about four-five seconds...
Mel: I know you heard dat "Jealous" remix.
Rih: So?
Mel: Sooo, whatchu think?
I glanced up at her and shrugged, returning my focus back down to my near perfect blunt. This shit's thick as a dry erase marker.
Rih: Its coo, I guess.
Mel: Yeah, I fuck wit' it...
I could feel Mel staring a hole in the side of my head as I lit up.
Rih: What?
Mel: Whatchu mean 'what'? What's good wit' you?
Rih: Nothin'. But you gon' stop workin' my nerves, though.
Mel: What? I'm-
Rih: *exhales* Yes you are. Dead dat shit. And we both know Bey proly only did dat shit to get my attention, so...
Mel: Hey, I'm just tryna get you out your feelins before we get back to America. I know it's bothering you.
Rih: No it ain't. It's jus' dat... of all da people to do a remix wit', she chose him. An' on dat song. You know how she be thinkin' I'm out dere fuckin' all dese bitches an' niggas. The whole damn song is a big ass subliminal.
Mel: You know she had nothin' to do wit' that, Robyn. You act like she called him and was in da studio wit' him.
Rih: You don't know dat she wasn't.
Mel: Ight den, ask her.
Rih: No.
Mel: Why?
I squinted at her as I passed the blunt.
Rih: Because even if she wasn't, she would say she was, just to piss me off. Dat's why I ain't even bring it up 'cause I'll fuck aroun' an' knock 'er teeth out.
Mel: Ight, Robyn.
Rih: What?! What I do?
Mel: Why can't you be like you was before? Now when she calls or texts you, you either don't answer or you act like a fuckin' asshole. Only time you really see her is to fuck. And you wonder why she thinks ya creepin'.
Rih: *rolls eyes* Oh please, Mel. You know I can only pretend to be a lil' pussy for so long, den it's like my body rejects it like a virus.
Mel: Whatever. When she runs off wit' da mailman-
Rih: Ima decapitate 'im and drag 'er ass right back home. What time da jet gonna be ready?
