Duality

VIII

Beyoncé Giselle Knowles

Beyoncé had gotten up slightly reluctant to go to work. She got up and began taking her shower. It's been almsot 2 weeks since her birthday. She guessed this weekend is when her friends stop pretending they forgot.

She was correct because they were planning to take her out after work. She had heard from Michelle's nonstop monologue.

Truth is—Beyoncé didn't like her birthday. But she didn't hate it.

Growing up her birthdays consisted of doing fun or almost illegal shit with her friends—her mom always baked her a huge cake—and she spent the day around her family.

She'd never admit it outloud but it was nice that her friends did this for her. She appreciated it—she'd never get mushy with them and admit though.

She stepped out the shower and found her usual attire. A band t shirt with a hoodie on top, some slightly baggy ripped jeans and her vans.

She hummed as she stepped out of her bedroom, she checked the time and she had a few minutes to spare.

She stopped for a moment and stared at the wall that Onika and her shared. "Is she coming?" Beyoncé thought.

Beyoncé wouldn't be surprised if she decided not to—but she wouldn't be bothered if she did. Beyoncé found herself being a little more cautious around Onika. She was sensitive and that was new to her.

Beyoncé wasn't used to being around sensitive people—her little sister was pretty hardcore—her mother was a strong wilded woman who yelled back if someone yelled at her—her friends are nowhere near sensitive and her farther—

Beyoncés thoughts were interrupted when she heard her phone ring. She starred down at it—watching it vibrate. It was her mother. She answered swiftly.

"Hey Ma." She said moving around her kitchen. "Giselle—how have you been?" Her mother asked. She liked calling often even though Beyoncé insisted she was fine.

"I've been—alright." Beyoncé said. "I called you to—talk about something." Beyoncé stopped her movements and stared at her phone that was placed on her marble counter.

Her mother sounded reluctant—and she knew that tone. "About..what?" Beyoncé asked giving her a chance to speak before she shut her down.

"Your farther—"

"I don't want to talk about him." Beyoncé said immediately.

Her mother sighed. "I understand that Beyoncé but—he said he called you for your birthday—"

"I'm fully aware." Beyoncé said unphased—continuing her movements to get herself a nutrigrain bar. Beyoncé and her father's relationship was—rocky to say the least.

"Then why didn't you answer?" Her mother asked. Beyoncé rolled her eyes. "I thought it made it very clear on why I don't answer his calls Ma." Beyoncé said.

"But—Beyonces hes your dad—"

"Is he really? I don't recognize him as one. I know you want our relationship to be better but he ruined that chance. I'm surprised Solange interacts with him." Beyoncé mumbled.

"Solange learned to forgive Beyoncé—"

"No—Solange didn't have to endure what I did. I don't like that man. I don't care if he called for my birthday." Beyoncé said firmly.

"Ma, we've had this conversation a million times. Why do you keep pushing it?" Beyoncé asked exasperated. She loved her mom—she really did but Beyoncé believed the woman forgave too easily.