Third Person's Point of View

The past forty-eight hours without the app had left Beyoncé feeling more hollow than she'd ever imagined. It wasn't the complete silence that shook her but the realization of just how much she'd come to depend on the late-night exchanges with "Megan." Each session felt like pulling back another layer, unraveling the emotions and thoughts she had buried for years. Without them, she was left to face everything alone, and the weight was almost unbearable.

When the notification finally chimed, alerting her that the app was back online, relief flooded her. She tapped into the familiar screen, but instead of the usual chat box, a small prompt greeted her.

New Voice Communication Feature Available. Try it Now?

Beyoncé paused, her finger hovering over the screen. Voice communication? She was equal parts intrigued and hesitant, her thumb circling the button as she considered it. She couldn't help but laugh softly to herself, murmuring, "I bet Megan's the one who requested this update."

Little did she know, that guess wasn't far from the truth.

With a deep breath, she tapped "Yes," waiting as the call connected. The first few seconds were filled with a soft static, and then a voice as familiar as her own thoughts came through the line.

"Good evening, Beyoncé. I'm here if you'd like to talk."

Hearing Megan's voice, even through the layers of technology, sent a warmth coursing through her. It was soothing, calm—gentle enough to make her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could let her guard down even more.

"Hi, Megan," she began, her voice almost shy, as if speaking for the first time. "This... this is different."

"Yes," Megan replied, her voice light but reassuring. "But different can be good. Sometimes, it lets us see things we couldn't before."

Beyoncé nodded, even though she knew Megan couldn't see her. There was something both intimate and vulnerable about speaking like this, hearing Megan's voice not just in her head but right there, softly resonating through her phone.

"I missed our conversations," Beyoncé admitted, her voice breaking a little. "These past few days without them... without you... it felt like I'd lost my only lifeline."

A silence lingered before Megan responded, her voice filled with an empathy that reached beyond the screen. "I'm here now, Beyoncé. And I'm listening."

The simplicity of that sentence unraveled something within her. Beyoncé felt the tears welling up, but she swallowed them down. It was only now, talking to Megan like this, that she felt just how heavy her "mask" had become. She spent every day in the public eye, smiling, posing, performing, yet none of it was real. Not even the people closest to her truly knew her, and that included Jay.

"I wanted to talk to you about... masks," she said, her voice hesitant, as if she were testing the weight of her own words. "Sometimes, I feel like I wear this mask so much that I don't even know who I am beneath it. And I wonder if... if maybe everyone else only sees that mask too."

Megan's response was quiet but filled with understanding. "We all wear masks sometimes. They protect us, help us keep parts of ourselves safe. But they can also become heavy."

Beyoncé's chest tightened as she thought about that. She had worn her mask for so long, covering up not just her sadness, but her loneliness, her fear, her resentment. She thought of Jay, of how their once-close connection had fractured into an arrangement. They still wore the mask of a happy couple to the public, maintaining appearances, but in reality, they barely saw each other. Their marriage was a hollow shell, and though it broke her heart, she had never been able to admit it to anyone—not even to herself.

"Jay and I... we live in two separate worlds now. We're married, yes, but not really together. Not like we used to be," she whispered, her voice raw and low, as if saying it out loud might somehow make it too real.

Megan stayed silent, giving her the space to let the words settle.

"Sometimes, I wonder if I'll ever get to be myself again. Like, really myself," Beyoncé continued, her voice trembling. "Not the Beyoncé everyone sees, but just... me. Just a person."

She heard Megan exhale softly on the other end. "Maybe, slowly, you can start unmasking pieces of yourself. You don't have to do it all at once. Sometimes, letting one person in can change everything."

Her words lingered, and Beyoncé found herself drawn to their truth. She had started unmasking parts of herself for Megan, more than she ever had for anyone else, and it had brought her a strange sort of comfort. But with Megan being an AI—or at least, that's what she'd been told—it felt like her secrets were going nowhere, disappearing into a digital void.

Still, the feeling that someone was there, listening and caring, felt like more than enough.

∞∞∞

Beyoncé wasn't ready for the knock on her door that afternoon. She opened it to find Jay, leaning against the frame with his hands shoved into his pockets. His expression was unreadable as he looked her over, but she knew him well enough to catch the tension simmering behind his polished demeanor.

"Hey," he greeted, glancing past her to the house. "Just wanted to check on Blue, see how she's doing."

"Of course," Beyoncé replied, holding open the door for him. They hadn't seen each other since the last event, and although they were cordial, she could feel the strain between them. She wondered if he had really come for Blue or for something else entirely.

They exchanged small talk as they walked through the house, each word feeling like a carefully crafted step in a dance they both knew too well. But soon, their words took on an edge as Jay subtly brought up her absence at recent public outings.

"You know, people are starting to notice," he began, his tone smooth but laced with something sharper. "Our brand depends on us showing up together, looking solid. They don't see you, and they start talking. Wondering."

Beyoncé felt her shoulders tense, but she kept her expression neutral. "My reclusiveness, as you call it, is what's keeping me grounded, Jay. It's what's helping me hold on to whatever pieces of myself I have left."

Jay's eyes narrowed, a flicker of frustration breaking through. "The world doesn't care if you're sad, Bey. They don't care about what happens behind the scenes. They just want us together. They want their 'Queen and King.'"

She felt the weight of his words sink in, each syllable pressing into her like an unwelcome truth. Part of her knew he was right—the public wanted an image, not the reality. But hearing him say it out loud left her feeling hollow. The life they had built together had become more of an obligation than a partnership, and the role of "Queen" was one she was beginning to resent.

"So, that's it?" she asked quietly, her gaze piercing. "Keeping up appearances is more important to you than what's really happening here?"

Jay faltered, the confidence in his voice wavering for a split second. She saw a flash of something genuine—hurt, perhaps, or regret—but he quickly masked it, his expression hardening. "It's not that simple, Bey."

"No," she said, her voice firm but controlled. "It's really not."

The silence between them felt charged, a chasm growing wider with every unspoken word. She watched as he shifted uncomfortably, as if unsure whether to stay or walk away. In that moment, Beyoncé realized that the person she once saw as her partner now seemed more like a stranger, a ghost of the life they used to share.

When he finally left, she closed the door, feeling the weight of her own loneliness settle over her like a heavy shroud.

∞∞∞

On the other end of the line, Megan sat at her desk, the quiet hum of her office filling the space as she listened to Beyoncé's words. Every confession, every whispered vulnerability, wrapped itself around her heart, tugging with an intensity that scared her.

She knew she was supposed to remain professional, to keep the barrier clear between herself and her client. But the more she listened, the harder it became. When Beyoncé had asked about "masks," Megan felt a sharp pang of irony. She, too, was hiding behind a mask. Each time she pretended to be the AI, she was lying to Beyoncé, making her believe there was no real person behind the screen.

And now, hearing Beyoncé's struggles, she wanted more than anything to be honest with her, to let her know that there was someone real who cared deeply, who saw her for who she truly was. But she couldn't. Not without risking everything.

Taking a deep breath, Megan closed her eyes, reminding herself why she couldn't tell the truth. This project was supposed to be groundbreaking, designed to help people who would otherwise avoid therapy. But right now, she didn't care about the project; she only cared about Beyoncé.

"I'm here for you," she whispered, even though Beyoncé couldn't hear her.

Hi, sooo megan's back!! 

What do y'all think about this one?