Beyoncé's POV
"Y/N! Ramzi! Which one of you two left the seat up?!" I called out, making my way downstairs to the kitchen where they both, including Blue, were eating fruit bowls.
"It wasn't me," Y/n quickly defended himself as I turned my gaze over to Ramzi, who just shrugged.
"I got my own potty," Ramzi stated matter-of-factly, reminding me that he was still in the process of potty training and too short to use the regular toilet.
"So that only leaves one person," I sighed, looking at Y/n.
"I swear it wasn't me. Why not blame Blue?" Y/n suggested, attempting to deflect the blame.
"You really about to ask that?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Damn, fine. I'll close it, but it wasn't me," he grumbled, standing up to do as requested, although he knew damn well it was him.
"I can't be potty training a grown man; even Ramzi knows better," I shook my head in exasperation.
You might be wondering where Rumi and Sir are. Well, they have a different father who was getting on my damn nerves with each passing day.
It had been a week since I'd given him the divorce papers, and he was avoiding me like the plague. I had to send my lawyer over to him six times, and each time it was the same response.
"I'm thinking it over."
What is there to think over? Sign the damn papers, let me be free, and go back to dealing with whatever thots you have.
"You good?" Y/n asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Yeah, just a little stressed out about the whole divorce thing," I admitted.
"Yeah, we can tell," he replied, gesturing to the kids who nodded along. Was I really that obvious?
"I mean, you burnt the eggs in the morning while staring at them. The only thing you're actually good at–" Blue started before Y/n cut her off.
"Okay! She's already quite upset. Why don't we keep Beyzilla away," Y/n suggested, earning a whine and a slight smack from me.
"I'm sorry, just trying to lighten the mood," he laughed.
"Not working. I need to go to the studio today," I sighed.
"Album finna be–" Y/n started, but I cut him off.
"Not a word about this album to anyone, Y/n, you too, Blue," I warned.
They both nodded, and I added, "I'm not as worried about Ramzi because frankly, I don't think he even knows who I am or who his daddy is."
"But I'm getting a song, right?" Y/n persisted.
"What makes you so special?" I teased.
"You wound me, Giselle," he faked hurt.
"You've made too many appearances on my discography. I'm done with you," I joked back.
"So? Who's counting? Blue got a whole feature," Y/n pointed out.
"It's not like I had any choice. I was barely cognitive," Blue sassed.
"You got a Grammy, stop talking," Y/n retorted.
"Oh, so we're bringing up awards now? Says you, you have an Oscar," Blue shot back.
"I worked hard for that," Y/n defended.
"Boohoo, and I didn't?" Blue challenged.
"You just had to say ten or less words," Y/n countered.
"Do you know who I am?" Blue retorted.
"Yeah, matter of fact, you came outta my–" Y/n started before I cut him off.
"Okay, that's enough you two! Y/n, you know better than to argue with a twelve-year-old, and Blue, stop arguing with your father," I scolded.
"He started it," Blue protested.
"Because you decided to add your two cents in," Y/n argued.
"This is not what I signed up for," I mumbled, walking away as they continued to throw shade at each other.
......
Y/n's POV
"Why can't you just do it in New York? Why does it have to be Paris?" Dana asked, flipping through the presentation I had just given her.
"Because it's promo. We'll do the actual video in Kansas City. I did my research and found some good spots," I explained confidently.
"Okay, I'll see what you come up with, but I'm not promising anything," Dana replied skeptically.
"I already got some people for the video and the tank, though," I added with a grin.
"You got a tank?" Dana raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"I'm an actor, Dana. I know how to get my hands on props," I chuckled.
"Okay, but moving on from this headache, you have a campaign, an ad, and a photoshoot coming up," Dana continued.
"GQ, right?" I confirmed.
"Yes, and a campaign with Bottega Veneta and an ad with Beats," Dana listed off.
"Beats? Aren't they supposed to be working with artists?" I questioned.
"Yes, but this could be great promo for your little, not-so-little project," Dana pointed out.
"That's actually a great idea, Dana. You're a real one," I praised her.
"I know. I need a raise for all this madness," Dana sighed before pulling out a file.
"And this is what Bey requested. I fetched this and gave it to you," Dana explained.
"Oh, Blue's birth certificate," I noted, recognizing the document.
"What are y'all doing with it?" Dana inquired.
"I forgot to tell you, Blue is my daughter," I said nonchalantly, signing the birth certificate and keeping it away safely.
"What?" Dana's eyes widened in surprise.
"Yeah, how are you my manager? Do you not scope my socials? I posted about it three days ago," I teased her.
"I was too busy with all these deals flooding in. Now that I think about it, it all makes sense, the sudden attention you're getting," Dana admitted.
"Yeah, it's all that," I agreed.
"When did this happen?" Dana asked, still processing the information.
"I've known since the start. Me and Bey have been, you know, on the down low," I explained.
"I knew it! Taylor owes me $50," Dana exclaimed.
"Y'all bet on us? That's crazy. But yeah, she's getting a divorce and all that now," I confirmed.
"Should I be worried?" Dana looked concerned.
"No, we're doing everything with caution. We'll establish our relationship after the divorce is finalized," I assured her.
"That's great, but back to work. Your photoshoot is tomorrow. The meeting with Bottega will be on next week Monday, and the creative meeting with Beats is today," Dana reminded me.
"Today? Aren't I supposed to get a prior reminder?" I questioned.
"You did. It's at 8 p.m. That's a lot of time prior," Dana retorted with sass.
What is it with me and my life being filled with sassy women? And it's not like I can go to my best friend for a break; he's just as sassy, kinda fruity too.
I need to find friends my age for real.
......
"Welcome, Mr. Bassett. My name is Alice, and I'm the creative director for Beats," Alice greeted as I entered the office.
"Nice to meet you, Alice. You can call me Y/n," I replied, following her further inside the office where people were already seated. No, I'm not late; they're just early.
"Okay, so we won't waste any of your time. Your manager mentioned you have a song chosen already," Alice began.
"Actually, I have a whole concept ready. I'm working on a project as it is, and maybe we could use each other. I promote your product, and you promote my project, two birds with one stone," I suggested.
"What's this project about?" Alice inquired.
"Would y'all like to hear it?" I asked, and everyone nodded in agreement. So, I pulled out my phone, and for the next three minutes, we listened to the song while I explained the idea.
"I could even get Bey on the ad," I mentioned.
"Beyoncé?!" Alice shrieked out in excitement.
"She's real busy, though, so she won't be as involved," I clarified.
"Honestly, even her voice would be enough," one of the guys at the table piped in, earning nods and agreements from the whole table.
"Y'all really head over heels for Bey, huh?" I chuckled.
"You don't hear JBL or Skullcandy or even Sony saying they got Y/n Bassett and Beyoncé on an ad, right?" a girl with a cute pink bob pointed out.
"I got y'all. I'll talk her into it, but she's a busy woman. I can't promise nothin'," I assured them.
"That's more than enough," Alice replied.
"Okay then, let's get back to work. What am I promotin'?" I asked.
"These are the Beats Studio Pro's wireless headphones with active noise cancellation and up to 40 hours of battery life and a whole lot more, perfect for the studio" Alice explained.
"I get to keep 'em?" I confirmed.
"For sure," Alice nodded.
"They in stores?" I questioned.
"No, but after the ad they will be," Alice replied.
"Let me get three more pairs," I requested confidently knowing they wouldn't say no.
"Sure thing, Mikey," Alice called onto one guy at the table who nodded and stood up, walking out, leaving us to talk more.
"I dig the outfit," the guy next to me complimented.
"Thanks, man. Just tryna push diversity," I acknowledged.
"It's clean," he nodded in approval.
......
"I'm back, and I come bearing stolen gifts!" I joked as I walked into the house.
"You're on thin ice, Bassett," Bey warned.
"I'm joking, but it is free stuff. I got you some unreleased Beats. Essential for album creation," I said, winking at her.
"Shush," she replied, smiling as she pushed me away playfully.
"Why does Ramzi need a pair? He's three," Blue questioned.
"For practice," I joked.
"What's he gonna listen to, Cocomelon?" Blue teased Ramzi.
"Hater," Ramzi shot back.
I couldn't help but laugh; that's definitely my son.
"Please, you wish you were me," Blue taunted.
"Not even tomorrow," Ramzi retorted.
"Since when do you talk so much?" Blue asked.
"Mind your business," Ramzi stuck his tongue out before darting off, with Blue hot on his tail.
"They're your kids 100%," Bey remarked.
"Nah, 'cause Blue got your sass," I replied.
"Sure, but the attitude and comebacks are all you," Bey teased.
"They're good though," I said with pride.
"How's his mama doing?" Bey asked.
"I don't know. Last I heard, she was starting a family with some dude in Ohio," I replied, shrugging.
"What?" Her nose scrunched up in disbelief.
"Yeah, had the same reaction," I confirmed.
"Does she call?" Bey inquired.
"On birthdays, yeah, or when I post about his games," I answered.
"I still hate that woman with my life," Bey confessed.
"She was pretty cool at first. I don't know what got into her, though," I mused.
"I still can't believe you got her pregnant in only a month of knowing her," she remarked.
"I wasn't in the best state of mind," I admitted.
"Mmm," Bey responded.
"It was your fault, talking about, 'I wanna fix my family' and shii," I teased.
"Shut up, nigro," Bey chuckled.
"Nah, for real, and you were so serious about it, setting up dates and family activities," I recalled.
"I was trying to turn a new leaf," Bey defended herself with a laugh.
"New leaf, my ass. The moment you learned I was having a baby, you were all in your feelings," I teased back.
"How could you move on so fast?" Bey questioned.
"It wasn't planned, but you got nobody to blame but yourself. You're lucky I took your ass back," I retorted.
"Shush," Bey replied.
"Yeah, but how's the, you know, divorce going?" I asked, changing the subject.
"He's stalling, talking about giving me time to think it over," Bey sighed.
"Can't you take him to court?" I suggested.
"I can, but that'll just draw attention from the public," Bey explained.
"Yeah, but it's gonna get out at some point. Can't hide it forever," I pointed out.
"I know. If it ain't signed by the end of this week, then I'll take action," Beyoncé decided, sighing as she played with the bracelet on my wrist, resting her head on my shoulder.
"You wanna spike him some more?" I suggested.
"How?" She asked.
"Maybe you could hop on this ad with me. We're doing a little skit. You could be my baby mama in it," I proposed.
"But I already am though," Bey pointed out.
"Exactly. Makes it all the more better," I grinned.
"You're gonna get me in trouble, but okay, I'm down," Beyoncé agreed.
Internally, I celebrated because I was expecting a hard pass. Beyoncé didn't do interviews and all that stuff unless it was for her businesses. This is what I'd call turning a new leaf.
Not all that bull she was talking about earlier on.
"Why is it so quiet?" Bey suddenly remarked, breaking the silence.
Shit.
......
"Oooh, I look so sexy," I admired myself. We were in the middle of the photoshoot for GQ, and after this, I had to fly to Paris.
"You're about to break the internet," the director, Peter, complimented.
"Ain't no black man ever looked this sexy in a kilt. My baby mama's gonna wanna make more babies after she sees this," I boasted.
"Don't get too ahead of yourself now, Y/n," Dana warned.
"No, 'cause you see all this sexiness? Look at this," I continued, feeling confident.
"A few more with this outfit, and we can move on to the next one," Peter instructed.
"Let's get it," I said, moving away from the camera and going back to the backdrop where the makeup artist did a few touch-ups and adjusted my outfit.
"Now, just stand there and look pretty for the camera," Peter directed.
Yeah, I'm about to be dubbed the prettiest man alive. Nobody's gonna be expecting this. Take that, Jacob Elordi, with your fruity ass.
I don't care about the Sexiest Man Alive title; everyone and their mama be getting that one. I don't want that one. My lady already thinks I'm the sexiest man anyway.
"Let's get a little side profile. I wanna see that jawline," Peter instructed.
"Dana, how do I look?" I teased.
"Very pretty and fruity," Dana teased back.
"Never mind. You've been a hater since day one," I chuckled.
"Trust me, if I was, you wouldn't be here. I'd have put your career into the pits," Dana retorted.
"Don't make me insecure now. I'm the prettiest man alive," I smirked.
"Dear Lord, you guys chose the wrong person to give this title to," Dana said to the director.
"It was the people's choice," Peter laughed.
"God save us," Dana muttered.
"He did. He blessed your eyes with this prettiness," I said, pointing to myself.
A few shots later, and I changed. This was by far my favorite outfit; it's definitely going onto the cover.
"I'm scared to ask how many of those you own now," Dana commented.
"Just a couple dozen," I shrugged, adjusting the kilt I had on.
"Very fruity," Dana remarked.
"Say that to the thousands of Scottish men who wear them every day," I retorted.
"That's different. That's culture for them. You just wear it for fashion, fruity fashion," Dana countered.
"You're just jealous you can't pull it off like I do, huh?" I smirked.
No one was about to put my confidence down today. I'm the prettiest man alive.
......
Beyoncé's POV
Y/n had left for Paris a day ago, he'd left after his photoshoot with GQ. Not before he'd sent me a whole gallery of pictures from the shoot, but I wasn't complaining.
My man looked really sexy, made me wanna give him a couple more kids. Especially if they'd come out lookin' like him.
But enough of him, and back to me. I was left alone with the kids for four days. I didn't mind; I just wasn't used to managing four kids alone.
"I'ma tell on you," Blue remarked, comin' outta the kitchen with a juice box.
"What?" I asked.
"You got a chef in daddy's house," she snickered.
"Girl, move outta my face," I laughed, throwin' a cushion at her beforeas she took off running.
Ever since she found out Y/n is her real father, it's like every threat and excuse had to mention him.
"Why does Ramzi play sports and I don't?" Sir asked, watching Ramzi being dropped off by his coach from the window.
"You never asked," I replied, walking to open the door for the boy in conversation.
"He's three; he can't ask for nothing too," Sir pointed out.
"I'm three, not mute," Ramzi sassed as he walked in with his bag and helmet in hand.
"Don't start, you two. Go upstairs and clean yourself up, Ramzi," I instructed.
"You gonna help me? I need help, please," Ramzi asked.
"You can't bathe yourself?" Sir questioned.
"I'm three, not six," Ramzi retorted as he walked up the stairs, and I followed the toddler to help as requested.
Yeah I take back what i said earlier, I definitely don't want any more kids. Four is more than enough. Especially from Y/n; they all act like him.
"Hey, Bey Bey," Ramzi called out.
"Yes, baby boy?" I replied as I washed his hair.
"Why don't I have a mom?" Ramzi asked.
"Who said you don't?" I countered.
"No one, but she's never here," Ramzi explained.
"She just lives very far away. I'm sure she'd be here more often if she didn't," I reassured him.
"Maybe. So when are you and daddy getting married?" Ramzi teased.
"I don't know, maybe in a year or two," I replied.
"Mmm, I like when you stay with us. Blue is mean, but I like her staying here too," Ramzi commented.
"Don't worry, we're gonna be staying here for a long time," I assured him.
"That's good. Daddy gets boring," Ramzi said.
"You're one cheeky kid," I laughed.
"Mama! Daddy's on the phone!" Blue shouted from downstairs.
"What does he want?" I asked, drying Ramzi's hair and wrapping it in a towel.
"He said he wants to say hi," Blue replied.
"Hi back," I called out as Ramzi giggled and walked to his room while I tidied up the bathroom.
"Why are you so mean, Bey?" I heard Y/n's voice from the phone as Blue stood by the bathroom door.
"You left me for dead. I gotta manage four kids while you run around Paris," I retorted.
"It's work," he chuckled.
"I've seen you, running around causing a riot," I said.
"That's the whole point. We got two more locations before we wrap up and I come back," he explained.
"Good. You have no idea how many fights I've had to break up," I remarked.
"Let me guess: Blue, Ramzi, and Sir. Rumi is an angel," he guessed.
"Bingo," I confirmed.
"You're just gonna throw me under the bus, Baby B?" Blue interjected.
"I can't lie to your mama," Y/n replied.
"That's a lie. You lie to my face all the time. Like the time I caught you giving the kids ice cream after I specifically told you not to," I recalled.
"Rumi asked nicely. The rest just blackmailed me," Y/n defended.
"You're picking favorites," Blue accused, taking the phone back from me and walking out of the bedroom.
I shook my head before looking over at Ramzi, who was putting on his socks.
"Can you dry my hair, Bey Bey?" he asked.
"Sure thing. At least you asked nicely. Your daddy be demanding me like he be paying, but he ain't," I joked.
"He's stingy," Ramzi shrugged.
"That he is," I agreed.
......
@daddy.y/n the title he deserves👏
@feliciathegoat hi daddy😘
> @angelbassett shut tf up Tyler!🖕🏽
@angelabassett that's my baby!
> @angelbassett this is where prettiness comes from y'all😜
@beyonce baby daddy🤰🏽
> @angelbassett oooh you got me feelin' all tingly baby mama🫢
@itsbeyhive y'all– Beyoncé over here shootin' her shot
> @beyhivemassicre I swear they together, I mean Y/n is Blue's daddy
> @angelbassett Right?!
> @beyhivemassicre OMG!!!
@jayz ion see none pretty
> @angelbassett don't you be startin' now lip lift
> @beyoncé get off the gram y/nn, it ain't worth it
> @angelbassett he started it!🙄
@y/n.rail.me I'm dead😭