Imagine (Short-Stories)

Imagine #1: Blue Gangsta

You were in the recording studio, at the studio along with you was The Beatles (Who are your best friends) and your husband (enter name here).

Imagine you wrote the song "Blue Gangsta" (Originally written by Michael Jackson) and just finished recording the song, you yelled during the session, and felt all emotion during it because that song was dedicated to your husband.

You dragged your recording mike along with you, wearing a blue suit, you came closer to the window which separated the studio. The boys all just stared at you oddly.

"I'm the blue gangsta!" You sang your last sentence pulling out a gun pointing it at your husband, but the gun only had one bullet in it, and you knew exactly where it was at.

Your husband's smile suddenly was wiped off by the threat of your gun.

You started talking to the mike.

You shot the gun one time, your husband flinched.

Nothing happened.

You smirked, "We're going to play a little game..." You smiled evilly.

"A little... Russian Roulette...It'll be a safer style, but still with a gun"

"What the hell is this about?" Your husband yelled, his voice was shaking in fear.

You laughed, "You know exactly.." You shot the gun again.

Nothing.

"You have four more tries, which one will get you?" You smirked.

The Beatles stayed away from your husband just watching you, you were surprised no body was even stopping you yet.

You aimed for his privates, "The good part, isn't it?" You shot the gun.

Nothing.

You started to see sweat come off of your husbands head, dripping onto the floor.

You shot three more times.

Nothing.

"Guess this last one has it then, huh?" You smiled.

Your husband kept shaking his head, "No, no no no no" He mumbled.

You caressed the gun, "It would be a shame to waste such a lovely bullet on a bastard like you.." You pouted.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Your husband seemed confused.

"Oh, I don't know.... I will tell you this, I do get your phone calls..." You wiped the gun, cleaning it a tad.

Your husband squinted his eyes at you, trying to find something just to understand the situation more.

"I want you out of the house by 5 'oclock, sharp. Or else.."

"Where will I go then?" Your husband said coldly.

You smirked, "What about going to that prostitute you slept with, what was her name? Anna? Or maybe you could go to Barbra, or Brittany or her twin sister Whitney. Maybe go to Samantha or Jessica?"

Your husbands eyes widened, "How did you-"

"I accepted the fact you cheated twice, and I could've lived with that. But, cheating on me more than 15 times and so on makes me sick"

You started swinging the gun around, laughing.

"Wonder where this'll hit.." You stared at your husband.

You suddenly shot the gun.

The bullet hit the top of the window, harming no one, causing all the boys to scream.

"You're crazy!" Your husband cried.

"I haven't slept in days knowing you cheated so, so many times.. Darling, you brought this on yourself.." You smirked.

You started to walk out the studio, you turned around and threw your wedding ring at your husband. 

"Only you make me this crazy, babe" You sarcastically said, winking at him and blowing him a kiss.

You walked out the studio a free woman.

~~~~~~~

A/N: Terrible imagine to start off this new book with, sorry. I know this one barely even had The Beatles in it. This was just one thought in my mind that I just had to share with you all. Weird thoughts, huh?