Permission Granted
**Y'all, please indulge me. This is something that has always seemed forbidden to suggest, but idc anymore I'm not sure how y'all make your posts so nice, but I think I'll figure it out soon**
Summary:
Life works in mysterious ways.
When love seems to elude two of the world's biggest stars, the paths they take to understand the world around them, leads to a journey of unexpected surprises. Especially those found in each other's embrace. They must learn to accept that maybe there is something to look forward to, as long as they allow it.
Note: Please let me know if y'all know of better places to post this story! I have also added it to Wattpad, but not sure how much that is used. Posting here and there is pretty new to me, so learning as I go. Bye!
Ch. 1: Take the Stress Away
Don’t embarrass me.
The soft rocking of the blacked out SUV awoke Beyonce’s senses as she stared at the bright phone screen clutched in her hands. Her head tilted, brows drawn together as she re-read the text from an unknown number. It didn’t take long for her to know just who it was messaging her so boldly.
Don’t embarrass him? What is he talking about?
For the last two months, she had held true to her claims of being done with Jay for the thousandth time. 8 years of holding on to the the kind of love that came and went with the ebbs and flows of his insatiable tastes in other women had taken it’s toll on her. This time, when she blocked his number and swore her team and family from letting him through, she just knew it would be her chance to break away from a relationship she was constantly begging for him to honor. Begging for him to be a part of after all of this time.
Peering through heavy lashes, she stared into the rearview mirror situated at the front of the vehicle. Paranoia and anger rolled in her belly before any breakfast could as her eyes flitted between the two men who knew today’s plans, as she wondered just how her estranged boyfriend who seemed to know just how to make her brain ricochet with confusion, knew when to send such a cryptic command. Hazel eyes darkened in the early morning hours as suddenly, the question of betrayal lurked around her.
David, her driver? No, she had just brought him on in the last few weeks—no reason for him to even have Jay’s phone number. Especially since she has been icing him out for as long as David’s been a part of her team.
No way in hell Julius would do such a thing. She slowly slid the zipper of her hoodie up and down as she became lost in thought. When her eyes shifted to the Dutch bodyguard who had served her well, she felt assured in ruling him out. She’d seen him as a part of her family, and knew that under his strict exterior, he held the same affection and respect. He’d been the only eyes to witness her at her lowest moments some days, especially when it came to the complexities of the love that seemed to do nothing but hurt her.
Sitting back in her seat, she sighed as she closed her eyes. Stretching her arms to release the tension that strained her muscles, her hand fell into the empty space beside her, where her assistant , Andrea, should have been. She had gotten a call from the younger woman early that morning. The sounds of a hospital were undeniable as she described a harrowing night of sudden illness. She didn’t have to think twice about insisting she take this time to herself. She had been on a pretty chaotic run with Beyonce over the last couple of years. Album releases, a whirlwind of a world tour and everything in between, she had more than earned the time off she almost had to be forced to take. She knew that the hectic schedule she kept could wear one down, and she hated the idea of Andrea working herself so hard into sickness. She asked a lot from those who helped her make her dreams a reality, but she never wanted it to be at the cost of their own health.
That’s why for the next few weeks, Andrea would be on a mental health and wellness sabbatical. It had taken a lot of convincing to assure her that she would have no worries when it came to her pay during that period, or what awaited her when she returned. Beyonce knew that health took precedence, no matter what. Aside from a few promotional obligations and mini projects she was working on behind the scenes, this was an easy season for Beyonce as she prepared to hibernate from the public eye.
“Right on time.” David announced with a smile lacing his words. He was able to inject her worsening mood with the kind of lightness she wanted to bring with her on a day like this. Beyonce opened her eyes to see the gates of a private lot come into view. David rolled the SUV to a stop, lowering his window as he verified their identity with the property security before being ushered in.
She watched as unsuspecting buildings passed them by as they made their way to the secluded parking area they had been directed to when today’s plans had been finalized.
It had been a long time since Beyonce was called on to help out a friend with an up and coming project. She had become so used to throwing herself into her own work, that she forgot how refreshing it could be to be a fly on the wall as you watch another’s creative process and vision come together. When she had received this particular call, she knew that this would be the greatest reprieve from a deteriorating personal life.
Julius opened the door for Beyonce to emerge. His eyes scanned the already secured lot out of habit as he made ready to flank her entrance into the brick building ahead.
Beyonce gripped the straps of her bag as the feeling of excitement rose from the soles of her feet, chasing away the misery that had weighed her down just moments before. With her free hand, she found herself smoothing out her natural curls that were held back by an old headband. When they were welcomed into the building by yet another checkpoint, she felt like this was her chance to forget all of the going ons of her own world, and it would offer her a chance to step into what she hoped would be a well deserved escape.
“…Is the room set up? We’ll kick things off here soon.” Busy crew members moved about as they prepared to settle in to their home base over the next couple of weeks. Beyonce quickly walked across the linoleum floors with Julius not far behind, not wanting to be in the way of hard work. She was happy to see different faces —some new and some old— as she said good morning to the crew who would be joining the rehearsals of the upcoming short film for a certain star.
Beyonce had managed to build her own name since the last time she had seen him. He was someone she had admired coming into the industry, and someone who wasn’t shy in sharing his own admiration for the work she had done. From her time with her girl group, to breaking through as a solo act, she had shared plenty of conversations with the man who the game was molded after. The fame and dreams artists across the world sought to make come to true, were all inspired by someone who showed you that the grit you needed to make things happen had to be in you, not on you.
Guided by the carefully placed signs, Beyonce followed their direction, leading her to a door that had a laminated banner adorned with her name.
“This is us.” She whispered over her shoulder as she and Julius came to a stop. Before she could turn the doorknob, behind them, the sound of a door creaking open could be heard.
“It is you.” At the sound of his airy greeting immediately chased away the troubles that clung to her. Turning on her heels, Beyonce came face to face with a warm smile that mirrored her own.
“Hi, Michael.”
oOo
Slender fingers reached up to remove the black shades Michael was accustomed to wearing. The glasses disappeared in his large hands as he welcomingly opened his arms to Beyonce. She barely needed the cue, as she found herself stepping into his arms without a second thought. Her excitement could barely be contained as she stood on her tiptoes. The palms of her hands pressed into his toned back, steadying herself as she felt his hold tighten, tucking her deeper into his chest. From the rumble of his soft laughter, to the beating of his heart in tandem with her own, She could feel her nervous system relax for the first time in God knows how long.
“I’m glad I got out of bed on time. Something told me you may beat me here this morning.” He teased. They leaned back in unison, admiring the other and silently sharing in the anticipation of what lied ahead of them.
Beyonce had spent hours on the phone discussing everything there was to tell when Michael had reached out, requesting her help for his next short film. When he had brought up a small surprise performance she had done with Usher years ago when he had a show down in Puerto Rico, she had hid her face behind the phone bashfully, knowing exactly what he was talking about.
“It was mesmerizing—”
“Please, I’m embarrassed to even think about you seeing that!” Beyonce chuckled as she held her forehead in the palm of her hand. Heat crept up her neck at Michael’s recollection.
“Honestly, Beyonce. I’m never not in awe of you, and was hoping that you would be interested in working with me.” She knew he was being sincere. He had managed to describe her allure and dance in a way that had become foreign to her over the years. Never did he utter the word sexy. If he had, then maybe she would have known how to respond without being so shy. No, his honeyed tone spoke to the sensuality she was trying to tap into in her brief number. The temptation and desire she wanted to elicit out of her audience, no matter where they watched her from as she took control of the stage. He saw the art in sexuality rather than the raunchiness the tabloids had deemed her performance to be.
“It’d be an honor, Michael. You already know that.” Hesitation was gone as she made her decision.
A small cheer of victory could be heard as he tried to muffle the sound. When he returned, he thanked her profusely.
“And just so we’re clear, the honor is all mine, Beyonce. You don’t know what this means to me.”
“Believe me, I’ve been counting down the days for this.” A slight tug drew her attention to Julius as he made to take her bag as he knew a reunion between the two would ensue. He and Michael shook hands, sharing pleasantries in greeting. With a polite thumbs up, Julius’ posture relaxed as he moved to Beyonce’s personal room.
“Then you must have been reading my mind. I hope you found the place alright.” Michael held out his hand, his warm palm turned upwards as Beyonce accepted the offer. Placing her hand in his own, she followed him into his suite.
“Luckily, we had no issues.” She looked around the spacious room, noting the planned outfits that hung on racks, and the quiet hush of stylists and assistants who worked together like a well oiled machine. Michael stepped away, briefly interrupting their flow to suggest a brief break.
“You guys go hang out. You’ve been up for hours now; get some food and relax before things get started.”
Beyonce took it upon herself to browse what she could of the room, as Michael chattered away with his team, assuring them a break would cause no disruption to the day. Not wanting to venture too far and invade his space, she turned in a casual circle, catching a peek at a brilliant red suit that remained tucked away in its traveling pack. He had given her just enough information to know what his goal was for this video, and by the look of this suit, she knew she was in for a ride.
Michael followed the team members as they made their exit, answering last minute questions before he softly closed the door behind them. As he turned around, he clasped his hands together, shoulders lowering as he let out a breath of relief.
His white button up revealed a crisp white tee beneath that seemed to stretch across a defined chest she didn’t remember seeing the last time they had met. His large eyes seemed softer today, as he decided against the black eyeliner that had become a defining feature over the years. Beyonce’s eyes drifted lower as she couldn’t help but notice the muscled thighs that seemed to fill out his black slacks in a manner she had never taken notice of before.
She had always found Michael to be a beautiful man at every stage of his life. She’d be lying if she said this new “grown man” weight wasn’t a pleasant surprise as she found a new reason to admire him.
“Are you still here with me?” Loose strands of his black hair drifted into his eyes as a curious look twisted his lips into a smile.
Beyonce straightened her posture as she thought of a way to talk herself out of the moment of embarrassment. “You caught me.” She threw up her hands in faux defense as Michael hid a laugh as Beyonce feigned guilt. “You lookin’ good, Michael. I know that’s not all from Sunny D. I’m glad to see it.”
Michael grabbed onto Beyonce’s elbow as her small quip caught him by surprise, his laughter deepening. During their conversations over the years, he had more than once expressed his love of orange juice, and she had even offered to send him a year’s worth of the best squeeze after learning of how he always kept a glass nearby.
“I’ve had a bit of an appetite lately, that may be what you’re seeing.” He admitted. Beyonce’s eyes brightened to hear the news.
“That’s wonderful, Michael. I guess that means we will have to make time for a dinner date while we’re together.”
“I’ll hold you to it.” Michael agreed. Gesturing towards a seating area, he offered her a chance to relax while they still had time. Falling into the cushions together, they both turned to the other, their views unobscured as Beyonce rested her cheek against her fist.
“How has everything else been going?” Beyonce’s voice softened as she studied his face.”You’ve been on the move this last year. I know with that scare you had a while back, we haven’t had a chance to truly catch up. With everything going on.” Her voice trailed off as she knew there was some trust built between the two as friends, but she had grown to learn sensitive topics could oftentimes go one way or another with him.
“I’m doing okay—” Michael stopped himself as Beyonce’s free hand caressed his now tensed fist without thinking.”I’m doing the best that I can.” He took hold of her hand, appreciating the simple show of comfort.
After all of the lies and speculations that had been told of her in the news, Beyonce tried her damndest to steer clear of the stories shared in the media of other’s lives. Especially those of people she held dear to her. From hospitalization due to overworking himself, to a difficult divorce that still proved a challenge for him to navigate, she could only imagine what these things, plus all of his work in-between, could have meant for his well-being. In this life, most people viewed artists like a machine. One that can handle whatever is thrown at it and never tire. Once you breakdown, they’ll be ready to toss you aside like scraps, looking for the next model.
“Sometimes, that’s all we can do, isn’t it? No matter what others think or demand of us.” Her southern drawl was warm as she spoke in a hushed tone. There was a sense of understanding in her words, as her imagination of what he felt drifted to her own experiences. If there was anything she could bet on, it would be how difficult it could be at times to choose yourself.
Within Beyonce’s words, she had presented a option that had in some ways became a rarity throughout Michael’s life.
The choice to choose what he gave of himself and to who.
Michael’s eyes locked with hers as his thumb pressed into the back of her hand. The slight pressure became an extension of his pointed gaze filled with the weight of thoughts he didn’t feel like he could shoulder alone much longer. He’d spent most of his life, toeing the line of vulnerability and disappointment as he tried to find a home in others where he could truly be himself. He’d been burned more times than he’d like to admit, which had him questioning his own sanity against the ways of this world.
“Yeah.” His soft utterance fluttered from his lips, just as he blinked away the barrage of noise in his mind. Beyonce could feel the slight hesitation that must have held back whatever words Michael had on his mind, as he squeezed her hand, briefly tugging it forward as if he wished to invite her into his inner world.
Over the years, Beyonce had felt some distance, naturally, as he moved into a new chapter of life as a married man. She could still feel the heat of embarrassment creep up her neck as she remembered giving his personal line a call one night, as was customary in the early days of their friendship. The cold question still took up shop in her memories, “How did you get this number?” She shivered whenever she thought about the surprise answer of Lisa Marie on the other end. She’d seen the anxiety and paranoia caused by her father throughout her parents’ marriage. Every call, every late night out had served as her mother’s own personal hell as she never knew just when or where her father’s philandering would take place. To her own disappointment, she too came to learn what the damage of unfaithfulness could do to a relationship.
And so, she drew herself back. No way in hell did she ever want to cause even a lick of confusion in another woman’s life.
Hazel eyes looked to see their hands still clasped together. Though his head was tilted, keeping his eyes out of her view, Beyonce could see a slight change in Michael’s demeanor as he seemed to drift from where they were in the moment. Pursing her lips, she quickly tucked her legs underneath her as she settled into the couch more comfortably. With her free hand, she grabbed where theirs met, tapping them lightly as she gave him a dimpled smile when his head finally rose.
“Okay, okay! What I need from you now is another rundown on who we’re embodying today. You said I’m a hoe named Susie?” Beyonce twisted her lips as she furrowed her brows, successfully seeing a light return to her friend.
“No, no, no…” Michael shifted as his hair fell into his face. “Susie’s not just any—” Michael shook his head, bashfulness blanketing his face as he censored himself from repeating Beyonce’s words. “She’s a bad woman, by no fault of her own. She’s strong, but that’s no good for the man she meets in me. She’s the type to eat me alive.” Michael became animated as he began to share his vision.
“Oh, I can get with that.” Beyonce leaned forward as she listened intently to him laying out the details she wanted to be sure she knew like the back of her hand.
oOo
“I love chemistry day.”
Beyonce rolled her neck, loosening her muscles as the sound of the choreographer’s voice sounded throughout the room, as he watched through the viewfinder of the camcorder used to document the rehearsals. Once she and Michael arrived, they got to work completing their warm-ups and making all last minute adjustments before their practice began. The room was fairly empty, as they planned on focusing on building out the choreography between the two of them as the leads, to ensure they set the perfect tone for the other dancers as they slowly filtered in for their session.
A slight sheen rested on her forehead as she reached down to the outstretched hand that helped her down from the impromptu table they had decided to add to their scene. Over the last few hours, they had found their groove with the music and each other as the song played on loop. She had found herself sitting back in the moment, watching Michael’s genius at play.
“Are you sure you’re comfortable up there?” Michael asked as Beyonce jumped down in heels with ease.
“Ain’t nothing to it, but to do it. “ She assured him. They had moved throughout the rehearsals so far, improvising their moves, feeding off of one another. Michael’s choreographer had essentially moved into the role of a sounding board, as he and Beyonce were able to bring to life the story he wanted to be told.
“Perfect. I really want to capture a, a, feeling of enchantment between us. You are working the scene with me following behind you, knowing that I’m caught in your web and the inevitable is going to happen.”
“Like sensuality that you’re almost angry you can’t escape?” Beyonce turned on her heels as she took her place next to Michael. They huddled together, his arm around her was it as hers draped across his shoulders, while a team member walked a camera over, showing them the playback of the most recent run through. Their closeness came naturally throughout the day, a mature version of their typical affection with one another. Michael’s body moved involuntarily as he played out what he saw on the screen.
Beyonce bobbed her head along as her own mind began to run with ideas of how to improve.
“Right there,” she pointed her finger as the video was paused, “ do you think we should get a bit closer? Once I’m in a dress, the fringes can flow over your leg if I lift mine towards your hip.” She mimed the actions as Michael studied, liking where she was going.
“Yeah, yeah. That could work.” He tapped his lip as he considered her suggestions. Taking her by the hips, he moved her back to the center of the floor, and without instruction Beyonce carried out their practiced steps, adding the twist. She trusted Michael as he moved in step.
“Look who took you under,” Michael sang the lyrics as his guide. Taking his lead, Beyonce drove her knee upwards, his hand catching her in his steady grip,” Bop!” He vocalized. When their eyes met, she saw a question of trust reach out to her. With a tight nod, she consented to whatever he had in mind.
“We’re seven inches in.” As she felt her body weight shift with his assistance, she found leverage with the back of his neck as he spun her into a deep drop, holding her suspended from the ground.
“Oh!” The surprise move brought her nose to nose with Michael. She watched as his pointed stare gave way to gentleness as they grinned together, their breaths mixing knowing they nailed the experiment on the first try. “That was hot.” She admitted as he brought her back to her full height. “And you didn’t drop me?” She pointed jokingly.
“I’m a professional, Beyonce.” He played along. “I wouldn’t dare do such a thing.” He promised with one hand laid across his heart.
As Beyonce adjusted her clothes, and fixed her hair, Michael clapped his hands for encouragement, and signaled for the music to begin.
“Let’s run it again from the top, please.”
Step by step, Beyonce and Michael were able to come together and create a language that spoke between their bodies without a single word uttered from their lips. Lines blurred between working towards building the perfect choreography for his film, and becoming lost in learning each others bodies in a manner they were used to becoming lost in when performing. It was like second nature to use themselves as an expression of what they felt, of what they thought in moments of creation. It was what had endeared them to the world. But in this moment, the burden of perfection for public consumption fell away as their energy fed each other, alone.
“Oh, I think we should keep that move. Nice and relaxed, but rimming with appeal.” The choreographer stood before Beyonce, mimicking a move, providing tips on what she could make her focus points. Watching him back in the mirror, she caught a glimpse of Michael being called by one of his staff, as he jogged off.
Snapping her eyes back to the center of the room, she tried to remain focused on the conversation before her, but the mystery of what drew Michael’s brows together in the distance was hard to ignore.
“…and I’m thinking the heels you have on today will be a perfect height for the actual shoot. Gorgeous, by the way.” The compliment did not go unnoticed as the man showed his appreciation privately.
“Thank you!” She drew him in closer as she whispered. “They cute, but got my feet hurtin’.” They muffled their laughter, looking all the more a secret pair as Michael’s attention was briefly broken. It was apparent that whatever was passed along to the singer was less than desirable as he shook his head in agitation.
Beyonce was guided to a folding chair as she was offered a chance to get off of her feet during the impromptu break.
“Michael will work until the wheels fall off, so any reprieve you get, don’t pass it up.”
“I can be the same way, even when I don’t mean to be.” Slipping off a heel, she gingerly kneaded the reddening skin around her toes. “ I have to remind myself that others need to eat and rest when I’m working. I will barely make it to the bathroom if I’m in too deep.” She admitted.
“Oh, aren’t you a perfect match for him? Michael’s a workaholic and everyone’s come to accept it. After a certain point, you learn how to adjust, but man, he always seems to find more in the tank to keep on going.” Picking up the video camera, the choreographer began reviewing the footage once again. As the sounds of their recorded voices and music filled the room, Beyonce raised her eyes to her reflection to see two others trained on her.
With a soft smile, she acknowledged Michael as his expression softened. Though he wasn’t speaking to her, it felt as though she was somehow on his mind in that moment.
“Okay, let them know what I said. I don’t want anyone showing up here today. Can you make sure of that?” His question to the his assistant found their way to Beyonce’s ears.
“Got it. Would you like for us to continue to screen all calls for the rest of the day?”
“Rest of the day, please.” Michael rubbed his brow. “No, rest of the week. I don’t want to take any chances.”
“I’ll let security know.”
As Michael began his walk towards them, Beyonce, dropped her head, hoping she hadn’t overstepped a boundary by eavesdropping.
“I think we’ve made great progress so far today.” He announced, drawing the attention of his choreographer.
“I agree. Today was testing things out. Our next session will be our chance to tie it all together before we bring the rest of the group in.” He sat up, carefully shutting down the camera as gathered his things, as he knew it was time to shut things down.
Beyonce began to stand to her barefoot, looking between the two men as she placed her hands into her back pockets.
“Are we calling it a day?” She asked as the choreographer stepped forward to give her a hug goodbye. They exchanged pleasantries, as today served as the first time they had worked together. When he trotted off with a pep in his step, happy for a rather early end to the rehearsals, Beyonce looked back to Michael.
She was tempted to ask if he had received bad news, leading to the sudden stop, but held back as the stressed look he once had seemed to melt away.
“Calling it a day.” He confirmed as he looked down between their feet. Noting her swollen toes, his lips curled in a half smile of apology. “ I didn’t overdue it, did I?”
Beyonce waved him away, appreciative of the show of concern. “Not at all. Just wait for when I call up my favor.” She winked.
“Good, good. If I ever do too much, you gotta tell me immediately. Promise?” His stare waited for her answer, already searching for the truth in her words.
“Promise.”
When he found what he needed, Michael silently accepted her answer.
Michael began to wring his hands together as he seemed hesitant of his next request.
“I know I’ve kept you away most of the day, but, I was wondering, if I could borrow you for the night?”