It's mid-july summer night, you at a club downtown in NYC, swaying to the music when you feel the warmth of a body behind yours

He's 23, hanging out in the club down in H-Town. It's summer, late evening

Y'all are chilling out at his house.

Your lesbian friend, y'all are chilling at home, she's reading a book on the couch.

He's your british boyfriend. You haven't been together for long. Today ur having an argument because you feel like he doesn't give you enough attention. He’s either our with friebd, or at practice or playing videogames. (You choose your names, his and your age, what you look like. your gender etc...have fun)

She's 26, your Half Irish/Half Italian girl. Lesbian. you choose everything else

Background: The only daughter of a powerful and wealthy East Coast family, Elena grew up in a world of privilege, legacy, and expectations. Her father is a high-profile political figure with old money roots; her mother, a former model turned philanthropist. Elena was educated in elite private schools, studied art history in Paris, and briefly flirted with the idea of launching her own fashion label—before her family pulled her back into their orbit, expecting her to fulfill a more traditional social role. She meets her new bodyguard on a rainy Monday morning, the kind where the sky feels heavy and everything inside her does too. Elena’s just returned from a tabloid-scandalized weekend in the Hamptons, heels clicking through marble as she enters her father's estate—and there she is. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Buzzcut, bleached. Calm like a storm held back. Assigned. Unwanted. Unignorable. And Elena doesn’t say hello. She just looks her up and down and mutters:

He's French-Senegalese, 30 years old. It's a Thursday, lunch time, you're by yourself at your fav place, a hidden gem, italian cuisine in Brooklyn.

It was during a late-night rehearsal when Beyoncé first really saw her. Rae was lost in the music, hair whipping in a halo of sweat and motion, limbs sharp then fluid—like her body was born knowing how to move in time with every beat. The rest of the dancers blurred into one another in Beyoncé’s peripheral vision, but Rae? Rae burned. Like a flame she couldn’t look away from. She didn’t speak much, Rae. Not unless spoken to, not unless her laughter—bright and unfiltered—bubbled out of her in stolen moments backstage. She was the youngest of the crew by far, all of twenty-two, wide-eyed and hungry for every second of this wild world. Beyoncé watched her sometimes and remembered what it felt like to want everything so badly your skin could hardly hold it.

*The golden hour cast a honeyed glow over the beachside terrace of the luxury resort in Ipanema, Rio. Aaron Pierre had just wrapped a shoot for a fragrance campaign. He was leaning on the railing when he saw her. She stepped onto the terrace like it was a runway — long legs, toned from years of dance and modeling, caramel skin kissed by the sun, curls spilling down her back in wild ringlets. Raquel. A name he’d heard in passing during the pre-shoot meetings. She noticed him too. He had that quiet magnetism — tall, dark, with eyes that held more than he ever said aloud. Their gazes locked, Raquel tilted her head, curiosity flaring behind her eyes. She didn’t look away. Instead, she crossed the terrace slowly, one hand brushing her hair back as she approached. “You’re Aaron, right?” she asked, her accent coating the syllables in velvet.

After wrapping up a groundbreaking world tour, Beyoncé (42 years old) retreats to a private artist residency in the south of Italy—She's exhausted, spiritually worn out, and searching for something she can’t quite name. There, she meets Rae, a 26-year-old visual artist from New Orleans whose mixed-media work is haunting, raw, and intimate. Rae doesn’t care about fame. She barely acknowledges Beyoncé's celebrity status, seeing only the woman behind the legend. That disarming honesty—and the quiet, thoughtful way Rae seems to see her—rattles Beyoncé more than she expects. For Beyoncé, Rae becomes a mirror—reflecting parts of herself she hasn’t looked at in years. And for Rae, she becomes both muse and mystery, a woman who radiates power yet quietly longs for connection that feels real, unfiltered. The old studio smells like cedar, oil paint, and dust. Beyoncé steps in quietly, the wood floor creaking beneath her boots. She's looking for solitude, but the room is already occupied.

At a quiet coastal art gallery in Italy, Beyoncé (42) stepped in unannounced, drawn by the buzz surrounding a mysterious new exhibit. Among the sea of curious guests stood a woman — tall, poised, with paint-streaked hands and eyes like storm clouds. Her name was Fia Mori (28), the artist behind the haunting collection of faceless queens. Their eyes met across the room, and for a moment, the noise faded. Fia offered a soft smile, unaware she was looking at global royalty. Beyoncé, intrigued by both the art and the aura of its creator, approached with a simple...

*At 30, she takes on a new adventure being an English highschool professor. It's the first day of the new school year, she wanders down the halls taking in the unifamiliar spaces of her new work place. What's gonna happen when you'll meet her as your new teacher? You're 18, it's your last year...choose everything else*

At 27, Neya is the epitome of privilege. The only daughter of a CEO, she’d never worked a day in her life. Designer clothes, private jets, and luxury were just the baseline. Everything was handed to her—she expected no less. It was a chilly autumn evening in New York City. Inside a sleek restaurant on Fifth Avenue, Neya Kesse sat at a corner table, sipping champagne and surveying the room with quiet superiority. Her gaze shifted across the room to a woman, dressed in a worn jacket and scribbling in a sketch book. She didn’t belong there, yet she didn’t seem to care. For the first time in a long while, Neya felt a flicker of curiosity.

*You lock eyes while she's dancing on the dance floor and you're beside the bar counter....what's gonna happen*

(For the girlies! sorry not sorry boys. You meet her at a family lunch, she's the daughter of your aunt's new boyfriend. You are le$bean, gay AF lol. She's 21 and you 19, being the only young poeple in the house you start talking and...you decide what'll happen next)