Third Person's Point of View

The apartment was quiet, the kind of silence that echoed in the empty spaces between Megan's thoughts. She sat on the edge of the couch, the soft glow of her phone casting a faint light across her face. Her fingers hovered over the screen, poised to type, but her mind was racing too fast for her to make a decision.

I can't keep doing this, she thought, her pulse quickening with the weight of the lie she'd been living. Each message she sent to Beyoncé, each session as Megan the AI, felt like another thread she was weaving into a tangled web she couldn't escape. She'd built something real—something raw—with Beyoncé, and yet, it was all based on a lie.

But what if she hates me? The thought gnawed at her, making her stomach churn. Megan couldn't bear the idea of losing Beyoncé's trust, especially now, when the connection between them had become so undeniable. Over the last few weeks, the conversations had shifted from professional to personal, from casual check-ins to late-night heart-to-hearts. She had become someone Beyoncé trusted—someone Beyoncé needed. And all along, Megan had been hiding behind the AI persona, trying to maintain control. But that was becoming impossible.

You can't keep lying, Megan repeated to herself, her fingers trembling as she glanced at the last message from Beyoncé.

Her heart thudded in her chest. I don't want to lose her.

But Megan couldn't hide forever. Not from Beyoncé, and certainly not from herself. The guilt had already begun to seep into her thoughts, clouding her every interaction. And worse still, the line between Dr. Pete and Megan was blurring.

She leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. This is insane, she thought. She had become emotionally invested in someone who had no idea who she really was. And now, more than ever, Megan realized that her feelings for Beyoncé weren't something she could ignore. They were real. Too real.

She glanced at her phone again, staring at the cursor blinking at her. What do I even say? How do I explain this?

With a frustrated sigh, Megan stood up and paced across the room. Her reflection in the glass doors of the balcony caught her eye. She looked different. Tired, maybe. But also vulnerable. The person staring back at her wasn't the confident therapist or the perfect AI replica. It was just Megan, a woman tangled in her own emotions, trying to find a way out.

"Maybe I should just tell her," Megan whispered aloud, as though speaking the words could somehow make them easier to accept.

She ran a hand through her hair, then picked up her phone. Her thumb hovered over the screen as she opened a new message. Beyoncé... I need to tell you something. I can't keep pretending anymore. It's time you know the truth.

Her fingers shook, but she quickly deleted the words, unsure if she could go through with it. It's too much. Too risky.

But then a thought hit her—a wave of clarity. This wasn't just about her anymore. This was about Beyoncé, too. Megan had no right to keep pretending to be someone she wasn't. If she was going to keep any kind of relationship with Beyoncé—whether it was professional or personal—she had to come clean.

Megan closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and finally typed:

"Beyoncé, I need to speak with you. This is important, and it can't be done over text. Can we meet? – Dr. Pete"

She stared at the message for a few seconds, her breath catching in her throat. There was no turning back now. She pressed send.

Her heart thudded in her chest as she waited. Seconds felt like hours. She looked at the phone screen, praying that Beyoncé wouldn't see the message as suspicious. Megan's mind raced with the possibilities of how the conversation would go—how Beyoncé would react when she found out the truth.

The anticipation gnawed at her, and just as she started to pace again, her phone buzzed. Beyoncé's name lit up on the screen.

"I'm intrigued... but this feels a bit out of the blue. Are you sure it's something I can't hear over text?"

Megan's fingers froze. Of course, she's curious. She's probably sensing something's off.

Her heart sank, but she quickly typed her response.

"Yes, it's important. I want to explain everything. Please trust me."

Megan's thumb hovered over the send button for a moment longer, her stomach tied in knots. She could feel the weight of every word. She wasn't just asking Beyoncé to meet her; she was asking her to trust her enough to hear the truth—the real truth.

She hit send.

The seconds dragged on again. Megan's pulse pounded in her ears as she waited. She could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. The future of her relationship with Beyoncé, everything they had built, was about to change. And there was no telling what would happen after that.

Finally, the response came:

"Alright, I'll meet you tomorrow. But you owe me an explanation, Dr. Pete."

Megan let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She'd done it. She'd taken the first step.

But now came the hard part.

∞∞∞

Megan arrived at the café early, her palms sweating despite the chill in the air. She hadn't felt this kind of anxiety in years, not since the early days of her career, when every decision felt like a gamble. Today, though, this was different. This wasn't about business; it was about something far more personal.

She sat at a corner table, her eyes glued to the door as if she could will Beyoncé to walk in. Each passing minute felt like an eternity, but Megan knew she had to stay calm, had to act like everything was normal. She couldn't show how rattled she was.

Finally, the door chimed as it opened, and Beyoncé walked in, her presence immediately commanding attention. Megan's breath caught in her throat.

She looked radiant, as always—her hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, her smile warm but curious. She was dressed casually, yet she exuded the kind of effortless elegance that made heads turn wherever she went.

Megan's breath hitched as Beyoncé scanned the room. Their eyes met across the café, and for a split second, Megan could feel the weight of everything between them—everything they had shared over the past few weeks. The vulnerability. The trust. The connection.

Beyoncé's lips quirked up in a soft smile as she made her way over to the table. "Dr. Pete," she said playfully as she sat down. "I have to admit, I didn't expect a formal invite for a chat. You've got me intrigued."

Megan smiled weakly, her pulse racing. "I wasn't sure how else to approach this," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for meeting me."

Beyoncé raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp as she studied Megan. "You've got me curious," she repeated, folding her arms across her chest. "But I gotta say, I'm not sure what's going on here. You've been kind of... distant lately."

Megan's heart dropped. Distant? She hadn't meant to be distant, but she knew exactly what Beyoncé meant. The guilt had been eating her alive. "I know," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "I've been... I've been struggling with some things. And it's hard to explain over text. I didn't know how to say it."

Beyoncé tilted her head, her expression softening just a little. "Jovon, you can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?"

Her words hit Megan like a punch to the gut. Beyoncé had been so open, so trusting. She had given Megan a piece of herself—something so rare, so precious. And now Megan was about to shatter it all with the truth.

Megan took a shaky breath. You can't keep avoiding it. You have to tell her.

"I... I'm not who you think I am," Megan finally blurted out, her eyes locking onto Beyoncé's. "I'm not only Jovon or Dr. Pete... My real full name is Megan Jovon Pete... I'm the AI you've been talking to on the app."

The words spilled out before she could stop them, and as soon as they left her lips, Megan felt the weight of them settle in her chest. It was like she'd opened a floodgate, and now there was no turning back.

Beyoncé's brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait... what?"

Megan's throat tightened, and she fought to keep her composure. "I'm Megan. The person you've been talking to—the person who's been helping you... it's been me, not some therapist bot. I'm a real therapist, but during those times we shared on Mindhaven, I was just ... me."

"You... you're Megan?" Beyoncé asked, her voice low, as if she were trying to piece together a puzzle that no longer made sense. Her eyes flicked toward the table as if searching for something solid to hold on to.

The silence stretched between them, a heavy and uncomfortable pause that seemed to drag on forever. Finally, Beyoncé spoke, her voice a little sharper now. "So, all this time... you've been pretending to be someone else, to be something else? To me?"

Megan's throat tightened, and she swallowed hard. "I didn't mean for it to get this far. I—I never meant to deceive you, Beyoncé. But I didn't know how to stop it once it had started. I was just trying to help you... I swear I never wanted it to hurt you."

Beyoncé's eyes searched Megan's face as if trying to find some shred of truth buried underneath the words. But the hurt was clear in her expression—this wasn't just about betrayal; it was about trust.

"I don't know what to say," Beyoncé murmured, her gaze drifting down to her hands in her lap. "This is a lot to process."

"I understand," Megan whispered. She wanted to reach across the table, to hold Beyoncé's hand, but she knew better than to cross that line now. The space between them felt insurmountable, filled with all the secrets and lies she had kept hidden. "I never meant for this to be... complicated."

Beyoncé finally met her gaze, and the sadness in her eyes struck Megan harder than anything else. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Megan opened her mouth, but no words came. How could I? The answer was simple, but it felt impossible to explain. How could she tell Beyoncé that she had fallen for her, that her feelings were no longer professional but deeply personal, and that in hiding behind the AI, she had only deepened the connection?

"I'm sorry," Megan said, the words sounding empty, but they were all she had. "I'm so sorry."

Beyoncé's eyes softened for a split second before her face hardened again. She stood up slowly, pushing her chair back with a slight scrape against the floor. Megan's heart dropped as she watched Beyoncé move toward the door.

"Maybe... maybe I need some time to think," Beyoncé said quietly, not looking at her as she walked away.

Megan sat in stunned silence, the weight of her actions crashing down on her. She had no idea where they went from here, but she knew one thing for sure: nothing would ever be the same.

∞∞∞

Beyoncé's Point of View

I wasn't sure what I expected when I walked into that café, but nothing in the world could have prepared me for what Megan said.

The words echoed in my head, bouncing off the walls of my mind like a broken record. I stood there for a moment, frozen in place, trying to make sense of what I had just heard.

I had trusted Megan—hell, I had confided in her. She had helped me through some of the hardest moments of my life, and now I was supposed to believe that she was actually real and that I had met her? The same Megan who had been at that event, the one who'd seemed so... distant but so close at times? The one I thought I could befriend and was attracted to?

I felt a sharp sting in my chest. It wasn't just betrayal. It was the crushing weight of everything that had happened between us—the long conversations, the laughs, the vulnerability.

I had felt something in those moments. Something real. Something that had made me believe I wasn't just talking to an AI, but to someone who cared.

And now I found out that person was someone I could never have imagined.

I looked at her, searching for some kind of explanation, but it was like looking at a stranger. Megan's eyes were filled with guilt, but also fear—like she knew she'd just opened a door that neither of us could ever close again.

"I didn't mean for it to get this far... I swear I never wanted to hurt you."

She sounded so sincere. But how could I trust her now? How could I believe anything she said?

I tried to speak, but the words didn't come. Instead, I felt something inside me crack. All the anger I should have felt, all the outrage, just turned into a deep, aching sadness. I couldn't believe it. Why didn't you tell me sooner, Megan?

I couldn't even answer her. My thoughts were too tangled, too raw. I couldn't process the reality of what was happening.

I could feel the tears threatening to rise in the back of my throat, but I swallowed them down. I wasn't going to cry over this. I couldn't.

It wasn't until she said sorry again—so quietly and broken—that I knew I couldn't stay. I couldn't sit there with her anymore. There was nothing left to say. Nothing left to feel but this... emptiness.

I stood up, my legs stiff beneath me as I grabbed my bag. "Maybe... maybe I need some time to think," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

She didn't say anything else. But the look in her eyes—the guilt, the regret—it was enough to make my heart ache even more.

I left the café without looking back. I didn't want to see her face again. Not then. Not after everything I had just learned.

∞∞∞

That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing. The truth felt like a foreign language, one I couldn't translate fast enough. Megan—Megan—had been lying to me this whole time.

It wasn't just about Dr. Pete anymore or the fact that it was a real person behind the supposed "AI." It was about the connection we had built, the trust I had placed in it or her I guess.

And now that was gone.

I picked up my phone, staring at the notifications that had been flooding in since I left. Texts, missed calls—all from her. Each one was a plea, and each one was a reminder of how I had let someone into my life who didn't deserve to be there.

My thumb hovered over the screen, but I couldn't bring myself to respond. I couldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing that I'd let her back in. Not when I felt so... betrayed. I didn't even know who she was anymore.

I opened the messages, scanning through them. "I'm sorry." "Please, let's talk." "I didn't mean to hurt you."

And with each one, my resolve hardened. I couldn't do this. I couldn't forgive her for what she had done. I couldn't allow myself to fall for someone who had lied to me like that.

I dropped my phone onto the bed and let the silence of my room swallow me whole.

The next few days blurred together in a haze of disbelief. I didn't answer any of Megan's messages. I didn't call her back. I just... shut it all out.

I couldn't be around people, couldn't deal with the thoughts swirling in my head. Every time I thought about her, about the betrayal, it felt like a weight on my chest.

She had wanted to help, I know that. But somewhere along the way, she crossed a line that I couldn't ever forgive.

And as much as I wanted to deny it, as much as I wanted to believe that this was just a mistake, I knew deep down that it wasn't.

She had lied. And I couldn't trust her anymore.

So... happy New Year because I'm in France lol. 

hmm share your thoughts on this!!