An old scraped idea of mine from awhile ago.
𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐈
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Enjoy!
Ⓒ thefinestprincess
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Onika released a shaky sigh, wiping her run on tears with her ice cold finger tips, as she read the negative amount of -302.72 reflecting her checking account in her online banking app.
She had officially begun hitting the one area every human commonly goes through at least once in their life time, rock bottom. A girl who once had it all, aimlessly witnessing herself lose everything, slipping easily through the creases of her reality, one by one.
2022 BMW? Revoked.
Platinum credit cards? Closed.
Loans? Passed due.
The only proud accomplishment she had still in her possession was her high rise condo, landing on the twenty-seventh floor in her building. Which was soon whaling at the palm of her hands, due to the thirty day notice placed outside her door for all of her soon to be ex-neighbors to see, holding on by the infamous yellow tape that emphasized, late on rent.
"What am I going to do?" She petite woman continually uttered to herself through her loud sobs. She wasn't the one to cry often, even in the mist of being by her lonesome. Emotional intelligence was not her strong suit.
So when Onika did breakdown, it was usually due to bottled up emotions she's had suppressed over time. This specific time was different. Her world came crashing down like a lumpy pile of bricks, that were once perfectly aligned and stacked. A wrecking ball, caused the chaos to her world and she wasn't understanding the meaning behind it all.
She felt as though she did everything right. Onika understood she wasn't perfect by far, but then again, who is? She tried her absolute best knowing this world wasn't for the weak, and it for damn sure, rarely went in the favor of black women, on top of already being queer.
Adulting as a whole, wasn't for the weak. You have to push through regardless of what came knocking and shoving at life's door.
"Please God. Please. I need a miracle, I need your strength and guidance more than anything right now. Please. My ancestors if you're listening, my guardian angles, please wrap your arms around me and keep me afloat. I need a reminder that everything will be more than okay." She cried, repenting on her knees.
Heading towards her bathroom, she avoided any eye contact to the large mirror before her. She didn't need reality reminding her of a mess she's obtained, due to her lack of beauty care. She knew she didn't look identical to the photo she recently posted on Instagram three days ago, flaunting a 3,000 dollar Chanel bag, she ended up returning the following day.
The lifestyle she tried keeping up with, was catching up to her. Life was beating her ass, as they say—and she wasn't winning the battle by a long shot.
Yet.
Suicidal Thoughts rang through cranium often, but she knew that wasn't an actual choice for her. She only wished it was that easy to just end it all, yet, her pride was a lot of things, but it did stop her from taking the route she couldn't come back from.
Opening the loud brown paper sack, she removed the blue and white box that read, Clear Blue.
Over 99% accurate. It claimed.
Onika being Onika, needed extra confirmation which probed her to pick up the version that came with a full pack of four test inside. She strolled towards her spacious kitchen, opening her cabinet and reached for a glass. Walking over to her sink, she turned on the purified water, filling the glass up. Taking more than a sip, she continued to chug the entire liquid until there wasn't a drop left to quench.
Traveling back to her bathroom, she felt she had drank enough to generate her urinate onto all four sticks. Finishing her business, the water works splashed down her cheeks without warning. Her head felt light due to her continuous crying, and overwhelming herself.
Sniffling, Onika aligned each test in a row lying then across the counter. She grabbed her phone and set her timer to three minutes. The box read one minute, but in Onika's mind, you can never be too sure.
She proceeded to play a game of solitaire on her phone to keep her thoughts distracted because once the timer rang off it wasn't much she could do nor come back from. The small raven haired woman was on the brink of losing it all, and what made it worse is that her family has no clue she even exists.
Onika has relentlessly been in the foster care system since birth, and that's all she appears to know. She's never related to a stable home life nor a pot to piss in. She's never experienced real love or affection, only pain and dissension. Onika has tried finding that thing called love by having relationships after relationships, and they only took advantage of her lack of self love.
Beep.
The annoying timer rang off, as a lump began forming in Onika's throat. She was beyond anxious to know—and be in the unknown, all at the same time. Instantly, she was having regrets of the scenarios that brought her to this current state she's undergoing.
Momentarily, she closed her brown almond obs, taking a steady deep breath, relaxing her jaw muscles, as well as, her shoulders. She wanted to be in the calmest of aura possible, before revealing to herself such hectic dispatch.
Reading over the box once again, it instructed that a positive result will instantly show two lines going a cross one another, and as expected, the negative results will reveal one straight line traveling horizontally.
"You got this.." she encouraged, reaching for the very first test.
"Negative?" She mumbled, in a shocked tone. Onika had been experiencing pregnancy symptoms the entire week, more specifically, morning sickness of non stopped puking, extreme nausea, and swollen breast. Damn near just about every fatigue symptom there was. Onika would even slumber for fifteen hours, if given the opportunity.
Picking up the next three, she felt confident they would all remain negative as well, but life humbled her vastly.
"No, no , no, no!"
+
+
+
—The test revealed in order. Her hands trembled causing them to drop into the floor with a thud. She brushed her finger through her unkept curls, feeling her heart drop like a rollercoaster on the tallest landscape. Her pulse thumped at a fast rate as tears filled her almond eyes, for the umpteenth time.
Motherhood was freighting to Onika. It seemed like many responsibilities in one, meanwhile she was barely able to take care of herself. Suddenly, she's going to build her own family, creating her own legacy. Was she equipped for that? Could she handle all of what brought a new born baby? Mothering—Parenting? She's never properly encountered such relation before, but only through the countless of movies and television shows have acted out for her to perceive.
But the main questions continued to fill her mind; How will I afford my child? How will I support the needs of my pregnancy and my baby?
She lifted the seems of her Thrasher tee, running her hand aimlessly over her belly. Surprisingly it calmed her, bringing her a sense of faith. She hummed a sweet tone, Twinkle Twinkle little star.
The same song she sang herself to sleep to at night, in the many pillows she lied apon, in the mist of the countless foster homes she encountered.
"Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky.."
Shortly, she felt her body become restless, and picked up the tests from the cold tiled floor. She placed them back into the paper bag and tucked them away in her linen closet. Shutting off the bathroom light, Onika proceeded to her bed room which were only a few feet away. She kick off her pink furry slippers, and climbed into her bed, plopping on it, feeling rather at ease.
Onika reached for her roku remote turning on her television to nothing in particular. She just preferred the purplish sleep screen that came acrossed it, bringing in a decent amount of light into the room.
She hummed her favorite tune, until she rested peacefully, with her precious unborn weighing heavily on mind.
****
"Why do you always reach out when it gets this bad Nicki? I ask you over and over again, are you okay? Are you good? I haven't heard from you in awhile, and then I'm left on delivered."
Onika sighed, feeling instant regret, reaching out to her best friend, who she knew would voice to her, nothing but the brutal truth.
"Well you know my phone stays on do not disturb, Jatavia."
"Excuses, Tanya, but I can loan you about 7k, and you don't have to pay me back right away. Just—next time, don't leave me in the dust because you know I don't play when it comes to you."
"That's too mu—"
"It's not too much, at all. You know I don't pay my bills, my nigga do. I don't even remember the last time I swiped my own card to get my nails done, come to think about it."
Onika, pouted, grateful that she could at least count on one person in her life. Onika didn't care to depend on people but she knew she needed help, and it was only a matter of time.
"They sell those on Amazon?" Onika inquired, referring to Jatavia's boyfriend.
"Girl you know good and damn well you don't even like niggas. Betta' get you trick. I heard them women tricks are betta' anyway. You ain't lookin' to settle down anyway. You've made that abundantly clear, so might as well just entertain somebody for the moment. You ain't got shit else to do."
Onika playfully rolled her eyes, sucking her teeth. It was the truth though. Onika went from making six figures at her corporate job, being an independent woman. Only to lose it all because of an immediate lay off. She had been eagerly, yet patiently waiting by her phone, expecting a call to be notified when it was time to report back to work, however it's been four months, and nothing.
She began selling her custom pieces, and designer shoes online, making a quick buck, but that alone, could barely pay half her bills, which eventually landed her to losing everything.
"Look, if you down, I can get you on the list to this upper echelon lesbian bar. My cousin Resha went last week, and already got her a sugar mama. The bar consists of a lot of high profile professionals who just want to spoil a young pretty bitch, like yourself. I think it's honestly up your alley, and it doesn't hurt to try."
A bar was the last place Onika wanted to show her face, considering her pregnancy. She couldn't indulge in a drink, so what would be the point?
"Ion know JT. I'm not really feeling the nightlife atmosphere right now. Plus, you know mingling is not my strong suit. I barely like humans as it is."
Jatavia facepalmed her forehead, in frustration. She knows Onika can be a tad bit stuck up sometimes, and bitter at the slightest, but in the same breath, she can be sweet as pie. Onika just has this wall built up that can be a tough cookie to crack.
"Bitch do you like being broke? Hm? I'm getting you on that list, Ion really care how you feelin'. You goin'!"
Onika huffed, folding her arms. "Okay mother, whatever you say."
****
Onika
THE HIVE
9:46 p.m.
___________________
Shutting the door to my Uber, I gazed over the black modernly structured building before me, that read; THE HIVE, in a golden-like hue. It appeared to have two lines, divided by red thick rope. I noticed the difference instantly, with one of the bouncers standing there holding clipboard in his hands which meant the left side was the RSVP line. I quick strutted over feeling thankful that only two people were occupying the line in front of me.
"Name?"
"Nicki Maraj."
Instantly locating my name, he peeled back the rope, nodding for me to go in. Taking in the ambiance, the decor and scenery was a lot classy and sleek than what I was accustomed to. Everything reflected mostly black or white, with a dash of Gold. Marble floors with a glossy finish, black matte walls accented with gold trimming along the edges. It even smelled nice in the air, like a floral scent.
I was impressed, and any regret I had built up about attending, easily vanished. This bar definitely had a mix crowed of women that filled the space. Usually when I imagine sugar mamas or daddies, I think of more so the fifty and older crowd but, that definitely wasn't the case here. I'd say the more mature women didn't look a day over forty.
I skimmed over at the gigantic bar with wide eyes. The bar was in fact, spacious, as it elongated from one end of the wall to the other. The wall behind said bar, filled with many variations of liquor and spritz.
Many of the seats were occupied except maybe four, as I observed. A women layered in an all white pantsuit with beautiful blonde locks, flowing effortless down her back caught my eyes. Her feet, accompanied in a pair of black pointed toe red bottoms, and she arrayed a gold Plain Jane Rolex sitting perfectly on her wrist, which screamed old money. Her lips were painted in a bold berry red color and I watched them part as she took a soothing sip of her martini, soon gliding the stick between her teeth, allowing the wet green olive to fall onto her tongue.
The alluring woman must have felt my eyes burning a hole into head because she began gazing around. I hurriedly glanced at my phone, pretending to text someone, when really I was typing a bunch of nonsense in my notes app.
After about three minutes, I pulled at the bottom of my dress because it was a bit revealing, and darted towards to empty seat beside her. She was chatting with the bartender, I'm assuming, ordering another martini.
"Excuse me, is anyone sitting here?"
"Ye—No." She immediately corrected, taking a double glare at me. She even assisted with helping me pull out the empty chair.
"Thank you." I politely spoke, sitting gently into the barstool.
"Don't mention it." She smiled and nodded.
Her smile was beautiful.
I tried my hardest not to stare. I didn't want to appear rude, but it was definitely a struggle even though I'd still steal glances every once in awhile.
"Thank you." I uttered to the bartender who brought me over a Shirley temple. Taking a sip of my drink, I sang along to First Fuck by 6LACK & Jhené Aiko, sensually swaying my hips in my seat. I could feel her eyes on me, as I flipped my hair over to one side.
I bet you love me more when I write you these songs, I bet you love me when I finally make it home, yeah.
I'mma make it mine, mine for the night,
got me pulling on your hair.
I'mma make it mine, mine for the night,
got me pulling on your hair.
"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name?" Her voice based into my eardrum.
I sat down my glass, turning my body in my seat towards her direction. Her perky defined breast were on full display, poking through her blazer, causing me to abruptly look away. I'm not sure I could take the pressure of the goddess being such close range to me. I then felt a hand gaze my cheek, maneuvering me face her again.
"Your name?"
"Sorry. Onika—and you?"
She ran her hand down my tresses before putting it into her lap. "Beyoncé."
See, she can't be doing this to bitches like me. I'm entirely too sexually frustrated.
"That's beautiful." I complimented.
"Not as beautiful as you."
Bitch. My panties about to be ruined. Her voice is already intoxicating enough. Is she looking for a pet? Because I bark.
I returned a dimpled smile and thanked her.
"Let me buy you a drink. What are you having?"
"Oh no, it's fine. I'm not drinking tonight."
Her eyebrow arched, sparking her curiosity. "You came to a BAR, alone, not to drink? That's interesting, yet, different. I've also never seen you here before. What brought you to THE HIVE, on this lovely friday night?" She questioned before taking a quick sip of her dirty martini.
"I was pretty much talking with a friend of mine, and she recommended I check out this upscale establishment. So far, I find it quite amusing and well intact." Her red manicured hand soon rested on my bare knee, making me gulp.
"Well thank you, Uh-Nika. I try to keep my businesses up to par, being that it is a reflection of me." She winked.
"Oh. Uh, I-I had no clue, but I'm not surprised. You're gorgeous, and you have an assertiveness about yourself. It's admiring, truly."
I'm trying to focus on getting to the bag, but Beyoncé was making it hard for me. I'd open my legs for her, for FREE.
Her hand slithered more up my thigh as we continued to chat a bit longer. She didn't really give me sugar mama vibes, hell, we looked around the same age. She just assembled herself in a more chic attire, than I prefer.
"If you don't mind me asking—"
"I do mind." She straight faced me.
"Fine. I'll go find someone else to talk to then." I pretended to get up, and Beyoncé lightly gripped my waist pulling me back to my seat.
"I was joking, chill ma'." She smirked, still holding me by my waist. She needed to be holding this pussy.
Beyoncé took the cherry from my empty glass, bringing it up my mouth. I first flicked it with my tongue, making her squirm in her seat. I then pulled the cherry from the stem with my teeth, chewing it.
"Damn girl."
"Mhmm. So, how old are you?"
"Nineteen."
I playfully rolled my eyes. "Beyoncé. Be for real."
"Don't be rolling your damn eyes like I look sixty or sumn'. I'm thirty-eight, to be exact."
No way she's thirty anything.
"I also find that hard to believe."
"Well believe it." She shrugged, sighing. "I've been owning THE HIVE, since the early age of twenty-two. It use to be my fathers club, until he passed down to me. This place hold lots of sentimental value."
I nodded, still in awe of her age. I wonder if she's a cougar because I'll definitely be her cougy.
The Secret Garden by Quincy Jones began to boom through the speakers, and I immediately got excited. I love me some good 80's music.
"OMG! I love this song!" I exclaimed. "Girl what your young ass know about this old school?"
"A lot, actually." I sassed, as she giggled, taking my hand into hers. She guided me over to the dance floor.
"Damn you short." Beyoncé said, grilling me.
I playfully hit her arm, pouting. "That's not nice. I'm average height."
She wrapped her arms around my waist, pulling my body into hers. I placed my hands onto her holders as our body's rocked to the rhythm of the music. We had yet broke our concentration. Her hands slowly made their way to my lower back, lightly stroking the area with her fingers.
Fingers that should be inside me, but okay.
I need to be with you, let me lay beside you, do what you want me too all night.
I'm gonna hold you
Ooh, baby, can I touch you there.
We sang along to the lyrics as our body heat radiated of one another. We were so closely knit, I could feel her pounding heart beat spike.
"Your heartbeat going pretty rapid there Beyoncé, you anxious?" I taunted.
I felt her hand slip to my ass gripping it roughly, causing a moan to slip out my mouth. "Never that lil' mama. You do have me feeling away though."
Our faces inched closer and closer to were I could feel her breath against my lips.
And before they could touch, I felt a sharp pain out of nowhere.
"Oh fuck!" I dropped my hands clutching onto my stomach. I could hear a faint, "Are you okay?" All I could do was shake my head and ask to be guided to the restroom. I had no idea what was going on, but I suddenly began cramping, feeling conflicting pain in my lower abdomen.
Once Bey and I arrived to the restroom, she was able to clear it out, and I rushed over to the very first stall puking out my guts. I felt my hair being pulled from face, as I continued releasing from my stomach. I started getting lightheaded as tears streamed down my face.
I suddenly started to feel fatigue, and only wanted to curl up in my bed. Beyoncé rubbed my back, whispering assuring words into my ear.
I honestly was embarrassed, and she's probably never going to speak to me again after tonight.
"Come on, let's get you out of here." She pulled me up, and carried me bridal style, as I hide my face into her neck. I was sleepy, anxious, in pain, and still horny.
Beyoncé brought me to the fourth floor on the elevator, traveling down the hall to a room where she put in a code and opened the door. She turned on the light with her nose, rushing me over to a bed where I curled into a fetal position. The room resembled a very nice studio apartment. It had a small kitchen and bathroom inside, as well as a living room area with up to date appliances.
I shut my eyes tightly, groaning, feeling the cramps in my tummy again.
"It's hurts." I cried. Beyoncé came over with a couple capsules of Tylenol extra strength and a bottle of water, probing me to swallow right away. She lied the back of her hand against my forehead, then into my neck. Soon, she brought me a cold towel resting it over my head as she dried my tears with her fingers.
"Thank you." I croaked out.
"You don't have to thank me."
"Why are you helping me?" I quickly regretted asking that question due to the expression on her face.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."
Only person I'm use to being there for me was JT, so being that a woman I've only known for an hour and some change, is taking care of me, made me feel—important, and valuable.
I watched her walk over to the living room area, speaking to someone on the phone. About five minutes later there was a knock on the door and she came over with a few bags plastic bags.
"I had my assistant go grab us a change of clothes, and I also made sure to include an heating pad for your stomach. There's towels, tooth brushes, and other hygienic items in the bathroom, all stocked for whenever you need it." She said, pulling out a black t-shirt and leggings, lying them beside me.
The pain medication eventually began doing its job, and I placed the heating pad directly onto my stomach, soothing the slight pain I did have remaining.
"I really appreciate this Beyoncé. I've never had someone so attentively care for me. It feels nice to be seen for a change." I spoke, mumbling the last part. I felt a peck on my forehead, and my hair being tied up into a bun.
"I said you didn't have to thank me and I meant it. I know a single pregnant woman when I see one. I was once in your shoes. Difference is, I was still in high school, and it was unfortunately, the nineties. I see a lot of my younger self in you Onika, even just from our conversation a few moments ago. I could easily sense you cries for help. I can tell you need some you can depend on, someone in your corner, and I'm willing to be that person for you.
And before you ask," she lightly chuckled, "I'm not a sugar mama. I prefer honey anyway."
We continued to chat, and she allowed me a safe space to be open and speak up about my current situation. She listened to me cry, and vent about everything I had been holding in. She consoled me and made me feel heard.
I went to the bathroom and took a long heated shower. Afterwards, I stepped out of the shower, watching the stream fill the air as I dried off my flesh, and proceeded to the sink to brush my teeth and gargle with mouthwash.
"Onika! Your phone is ringing!" I heard Beyoncé shout from the outside of the door.
"Can you answer it and let them know I'm either busy or sleep, please?!"
"Okay!"
A few moments later Beyoncé came banging on the bathroom door. Luckily I was dressed so opened it, and there she stood there with an unreadable face.
"Jeremiah?"
"Yes I know a Jeremiah. Is that who was calling?"
"Yeah. He got on the call talkin' freaky up until he heard my voice. As his mother, I'm highly disgusted."
My eyes bulged out my sockets, as my throat suddenly dried up. "Your s-son?"
"My son. Let me guess? He's the father?"
My eyes wailed, as I fidgeted with my fingers
"I-I'm sorry."
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Thoughts 💭?
Do y'all like the new book cover? ☺️
______________________________
RANT:
I've probably should've done a proper introduction chapter for my Oneshots book, however, let me break it down MY perspective of what a Oneshots book is, mmkay?
I typically view a Oneshots book as a variation of short stories, scraped ideas, or simply just an author writing creatively with mass ideas swarming in their heads. A Oneshots book could be taken a 100% seriously, but all in all, that isn't realistic because you never know what to expect from each oneshot, and that's where the fun part comes in. I solely started this book to be able to express myself creatively, and because I typically have multiple ideas running through my head often. Whether it's based on a show I've watched, or I actually have a light bulb that goes off on the top of my noggin. lol
As always stated, yes, please leave feedback. I'm genuinely open to it. I love to know if you all like or dislike something, and I love to interact with my readers because you all have such fun spirits and I fuck with that. But, what I won't tolerate is blatant disrespectful or rude comments. There's a way to let me know you're not feeling something w/o being nasty about it multiple times throughout the chapter/book. Usually when you aren't liking something, it's so easy to say that, then exit. Not keep reading, and spewing hate just to get a reaction out of me. My books are a positive and open safe space for creatives and readers just like myself, and I would love to keep that afloat.
I'm going to just leave it at that, and hope you all continue to support and read my work. All of my loyal reader, more specifically who've read my first book, knows I can really sit and write some deep shit, but because MY PEN so versatile I can be funny and witty, too. (Just like my favs🤭)
I'm no where near the best, nor have I even reached my prime. I don't even want to be the best because it's not that deep to me, and that sucks the fun out of fanfics as a whole. There is an entire community of BEYNIKA authors, alone, and it's huge. I love it here!!! It's really a family fr.🥹
With that being said, being an author isn't for the weak. We really spend hours on this shit, and it's even more hell if you're an overthinker or perfectionist. IYKYK.
Stay beautiful y'all. 🫶🏽