I Am...Yours (MJ & Beyonce Love Story)

Speechless

Beyonce's POV

I was in the studio with Dana and a few producers, two of them being Michael and Quincy Jones. We already had made a track listing for it. All we had to do was put together the songs and record. I smiled as Michael and I began working on a new song. "What do you want to call it?" "Naughty Girl," I replied," I want it be a national athem for sexy women. You feel me?" Michael nodded as he wrote it down.

I smiled as "Naughty Girl" became a reality. It sounded good since I added a sample from one of Donna Summer's song. I stood in the recording booth and recorded. Michael suddenly frowned. "Wait!" He ordered. I stopped and stood still. "Sir?" I whispered. "Sing the verse again," he whispered. I sang the verse. Michael chewed his lip in thought. "You are flat, Bey." I nodded. "OK?" I nodded again. "Let's do it again," Michael announced.

During the break, I ran to the bathroom and vomited. I sat on the bathroom floor in pain. "Oh my God," I whispered. I wiped my mouth and whimpered. "I have to finish this," I whispered. I took a Advil and walked out. Michael was on the phone.

"No...Dana. You place a restraining order on the both of them. I swear to God if they come anywhere near us I'm going to personally kill them."

Michael's face was in a scowl as he spoke. His lips in a snarl and his eyes in blazing fury. I've never seen him like this before. Not this genuinely upset. Michael threw the phone down and cursed loudly. He pinched the bridge of his nose before running his shaking hands through his hair. I pressed my back against the wall. Michael put his hand over his mouth and screamed into it. His muffled screams shocking me. "Oh dear God," he whispered. I stepped back a few steps and began singing loudly to let him know I was arriving.

When I walked into the room Michael was composed quickly. His anger was hidden behind a concentrated face. He was playing the tracks over and editing. I cleared my throat. "Yes?" "Hey Prince Charming." Michael tensed up and turned around. He smiled. "Hey Princess," he whispered. I sat on the couch and waited till he turned around. "We're almost finished OK?" Michael announced hoarsely. I nodded and sat patiently. Michael sighed and turned around.

His eyes were red and his nose was as well. He had been crying. "Ready to go home?" I nodded as I put on my jacket. Michael stood up stiffly and put on his coat and shades. I cut out the lights and walked out. Michael followed. His hand trembling as he clutched mine. We climbed into the Mercedes and buckled in our seat belts. I curled into a ball and rested my head on the seat. Michael stretched his long legs out and rested his head on the head rest. I slowly reached for his outstretched arm.

Michael kissed my forehead and stroked my cheek. "Go to sleep; you worked hard today." I sighed and closed my eyes. Michael's continuous touch eventually put me to sleep. What is going on Michael?

Michael and I laid in bed that night. We both didn't get much sleep. I couldn't stop vomiting and he almost called his doctor. Michael was concerned about my well being and if I should even start a tour like this. "I'm fine," I whispered into the darkness. Michael scoffed. I felt his eyes on me. "You're vomiting a lot, mood swings, sleeping in. Beyonce, is there something you need to tell me?" I shook my head. "Perfectly fine," I announced. Michael was getting frustrated. I could tell by his fist clenching around my hand.

"Bey stop lying!" He hissed. "Well hell I  can't since it's the truth!" I hissed back. Michael shot straight up in the bed, and glared down at me. "That's it. Come sun rise, we're going to the doctor." I protested by shooting up and staring at him. "Michael that's not fair," I whispered. Michael threw his hands up. "Why are you so stubborn?" He groaned into his hands.

I shrugged. "I think it runs in my family," I said in a matter-of-fact tone. Michael rolled his eyes at me and laid back down. I stared at him. Stress lines were appearing in his perfect face. "Lay down Babygirl," he whispered. I reluctantly laid down and sighed. Michael hugged me and kissed my forehead. "I didn't mean to get mad at you. You're just...ugh, a handful." I smiled.