ch.11 The Grammys

Grammy Day

Helen sat comfortably in a plush chair, wrapped in a white robe, scrolling through her phone while her makeup artist blended foundation onto her skin. The soft glow of vanity lights illuminated the room, making everything feel even more real.

Her friends—Danielle, Kylie, Sophie, the other Sophie, Ariana, Malachi, and Walker—were all hanging out around her, watching the process unfold with amused expressions.

“I swear, it’s like watching a magician at work,” Kylie said, watching as the makeup artist flawlessly contoured Helen’s cheekbones.

Helen smirked but didn’t look up from her phone. “I am the magic, babe.”

Danielle scoffed playfully. “Girl, shut up.”

The room burst into laughter.

Ariana leaned against the couch, tilting her head. “So, is your dad coming tonight or nah?”

Helen finally looked up, rolling her eyes. “Nope. He hates the Grammys.”

Malachi raised an eyebrow. “I mean, fair. The Grammys did do him dirty back in the day.”

Helen nodded, setting her phone down. “Exactly. That, and the whole Christina Aguilera situation.”

At the mention of that name, the entire room groaned.

Kylie cringed. “Ugh. She’s gonna be there?”

Helen scoffed. “Of course, she is.”

Walker leaned forward with a smirk. “Yo, y’all should throw shade at her if Helen wins.”

Helen’s lips curled into an evil grin. “Oh, that’s a great idea.”

The room erupted into laughter.

Malachi leaned back, crossing his arms. “Like, just casually slide a little diss into your speech.”

“Or dedicate the award to all the artists the Grammys actually snubbed,” Ariana suggested.

Kylie cackled. “Or just stand there and not clap when they show her on screen.”

Helen pretended to think about it. “Damn, so many options.”

The makeup artist shook her head, amused. “Y’all are a mess.”

“But we’re an iconic mess,” Sophie added.

Helen laughed, shaking her head as her makeup artist finished up.

Tonight was gonna be fun.

(This is her dress♥︎)

--The Grammy Red Carpet

The flashing lights of the cameras nearly blinded Helen as she stood on the red carpet, posing for solo shots in her stunning pink sparkly dress. The dress hugged her curves perfectly, shimmering under the bright lights, and her long curls cascaded over her shoulders. She looked every bit like a superstar—because she was one.

Her plus-one, Javon, stood beside her, looking sharp in his all-black designer suit. After the solo shots, they took a few pictures together, Javon’s arm comfortably resting around her waist as they smiled for the cameras.

She was in her element, feeling confident and untouchable… until her eyes shifted to the left.

And there she was.

Beyoncé.

Standing just a few feet away, dressed in an elegant gold gown, her hair styled to perfection. Next to her was Blue Ivy, looking effortlessly regal as always, and of course, Jay-Z, standing beside them like the perfect little family.

Helen’s stomach twisted, and suddenly, the confidence she had felt moments ago was gone.

For a split second, Beyoncé’s eyes locked with hers.

Helen froze.

A million emotions rushed through her at once—anger, sadness, resentment, even a flicker of something she couldn’t quite place.

She quickly turned to Javon. “I’m going inside.”

Javon looked at her with concern. “You good?”

“I just—yeah, I’m good.” She forced a smile before making a beeline toward the entrance of the arena, walking past interviewers and photographers without a second glance.

Javon followed closely behind her, not asking any more questions but knowing better than to leave her alone right now.

When they reached their table, Helen finally exhaled, sitting down and gripping her champagne glass a little too tightly.

Javon took the seat next to her, leaning in slightly. “You wanna talk about it?”

Helen’s jaw clenched as she stared down at the table.

“No,” she muttered.

Javon didn’t push. He just placed a comforting hand on her thigh, letting her know he was there.

The show hadn’t even started yet, and she already felt like she needed a drink.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

----

Grammy Performances Begin

Helen sat at her table, her fingers lightly tapping against her thigh as the lights dimmed and the first performance of the night began.

The opening artist was Shakira.

The moment the beat dropped, Helen’s face lit up with excitement. “Ohhh, hell yeah!” she whispered to Javon, who chuckled at her enthusiasm.

She sang along quietly, vibing to the performance. Shakira’s energy was insane, and Helen couldn’t help but admire how the woman never aged and always delivered.

“She’s killing it,” Kylie whispered from the next table over, leaning toward Helen.

“Duh,” Helen replied with a smirk. “She’s Shakira.”

After Shakira wrapped up her fiery performance, the crowd erupted into applause, and Helen clapped along.

Next up was Sabrina Carpenter.

The stage transformed into a dreamy pink and white aesthetic as Sabrina walked out, looking stunning as ever. The soft melody of her song filled the arena, and Helen nodded along, sipping her champagne.

“She’s cute,” Ariana said from across the table.

Helen hummed in agreement. “She’s got that sweet but secretly savage vibe.”

Javon smirked. “Kinda like you?”

Helen rolled her eyes but smiled. “Boy, shut up.”

The night was just getting started, and soon enough, Helen’s own performance would be coming up.

She took a deep breath, letting the music and the moment sink in.

This was her night.

---

The Performance She Didn’t Want to See

The applause for Sabrina Carpenter’s performance faded as the announcer’s voice filled the arena.

“And now, performing one of her biggest hits, please welcome… Beyoncé!”

Helen’s heart stopped.

She tensed in her seat, her fingers tightening around the champagne glass as the stage lights shifted to a deep golden hue. The crowd erupted in cheers, the excitement in the room undeniable.

Javon’s gaze immediately flickered to her. “You okay?”

Helen didn’t respond. She just stared at the stage, her expression unreadable.

Then, there she was.

Beyoncé emerged, looking as flawless as ever, draped in a dazzling outfit that shimmered under the lights. The first few notes of her song rang out, and Helen swallowed hard.

She should’ve looked away.

She should’ve left the room.

But she couldn’t.

Her mother’s voice filled the arena, powerful and effortless, like she hadn’t aged a day since the last time Helen had truly seen her perform in person. The entire crowd was entranced, people at the tables swaying, singing along.

Helen felt numb.

This was the woman who had given birth to her. The woman who had left. The woman who had a whole new family without ever looking back.

Her stomach twisted with emotions she didn’t even want to name.

Javon leaned closer. “You wanna step out?”

Helen exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “No.” Her voice was firm, even if her body didn’t feel that way.

She wasn’t going to run.

She was going to sit right here, watch her mother perform like she was just another artist, and remind herself that Beyoncé was nothing more than that—just another artist on the stage.

And after tonight, Helen would make damn sure the world knew that she was so much more than just her mother’s daughter.

Holding It Together

As Beyoncé’s performance went on, Helen’s face remained unreadable. She sipped her champagne, her fingers gripping the glass a little tighter than necessary. The cheers around her were deafening, people standing up, swaying to the music, completely lost in the moment.

But Helen?

She was just watching.

Javon noticed how stiff she had gotten, his hand subtly resting on her thigh under the table. It was a silent reminder—I’m here.

Helen didn’t react, just kept her eyes trained on the stage.

When the performance finally ended, the crowd exploded with applause. Beyoncé stood there, taking in the praise like the queen everyone believed she was.

Helen forced herself to clap, slow and calculated, but her expression remained blank.

“You good?” Kylie whispered, leaning toward her.

Helen exhaled sharply. “Peachy.”

Ariana, ever the instigator, smirked. “Well, y’all did make eye contact earlier.”

Helen shot her a glare. “I know.”

Kylie nudged her. “You should go talk to her.”

Helen scoffed, taking another sip of her drink. “For what?”

Kylie shrugged. “Because she’s your mom?”

Helen clenched her jaw. “She was my mom for three months. Then she left. Now, she’s just Beyoncé.”

The girls exchanged glances, knowing better than to push.

Javon, however, wasn’t one to let things sit. He leaned in, lowering his voice. “What if she wants to talk to you?”

Helen turned her head slowly, eyes dark. “Then she knows where to find me.”

Javon studied her for a moment, but he let it go.

As the next performance was announced, Helen reached for her phone, scrolling through her notifications.

Her name was already trending on Twitter. Helen Shakur spotted at the Grammys—Mother and Daughter in the SAME Room?!

Helen rolled her eyes. The media ate this kind of thing up.

Little did they know, she had no plans of giving them the reunion they wanted.

Not tonight. Not ever.

---

Keep That Same Energy

Helen leaned back in her chair, swirling her drink as Christina Aguilera took the stage to accept her Grammy. The applause was loud, but Helen barely clapped. Something about Christina’s smirk as she adjusted the mic gave her a bad feeling.

“Wow, this is such an honor,” Christina started, holding up the award. “R&B has always been such a huge part of my career, even if some people didn’t want to accept that.”

Helen’s eyebrow twitched. Here we go.

Christina continued, her voice laced with fake sweetness. “I just want to thank all the amazing artists who inspire me—true legends in the industry. Not the ones who spend decades whining about losing awards or the ones who think talent runs in their blood just because of their last name.”

The crowd gasped.

All eyes shifted to Helen’s table.

Helen sat still, her expression unreadable. But her fingers tightened around her glass.

Ariana muttered, “Ain’t no way…”

Malachi whispered, “She really came for both of y’all.”

Javon, sitting beside Helen, clenched his jaw. “You want me to say something?”

Helen didn’t blink. Didn’t move. She just let a slow, evil smirk stretch across her lips.

“Nah,” she said coolly, tapping her nails against her glass. “Let her have her moment. She’s gonna need it.”

Kylie bit her lip, trying to hold in a laugh. “Oh, this is about to be good.”

Helen tilted her head, eyes locked on Christina like a predator sizing up its prey. If the cameras weren’t already focused on their table, they sure as hell were now.

Christina thought she was slick.

Helen Shakur was about to show her why that was a mistake.

---

The Stage Is Mine

The lights dimmed. The arena fell into a hush before the heavy bass of Talking shook the floor. Helen stood in the center of the stage, a mic in her hand, her presence alone commanding the room.

As she spit her first verse with flawless flow, the crowd was already hyped. But then—her father’s unmistakable voice boomed through the speakers.

Tupac Shakur was back.

His verse sent chills down everyone’s spine, his raw energy mixing with Helen’s presence like history was being rewritten. The screens behind her flashed images of her and her dad, clips of old performances blended with her own. By the time the song ended, the audience was on fire.

But she wasn’t done.

Next came Birds of a Feather, a softer song with fluid, hypnotic choreography. Her voice was smooth, the stage glowing in soft golden hues as she and her dancers moved as one.

Then, the energy shifted.

Sugarhill Ddot stepped onto the stage, and the beat for Dilemma dropped. The crowd erupted. Helen rapped and sang flawlessly, her chemistry with Ddot electrifying as they performed together, hyping each other up. Cameras panned across the crowd—celebrities were on their feet, vibing hard.

Then came Bed Peace, a sultry, smooth R&B track that showed off her vocals. Helen’s voice floated over the melody, effortless and soothing, making the crowd sway.

But the best was saved for last.

The stage went black. A heartbeat-like bass thumped through the speakers. Then—

BOOM.

The opening beat of Not Like Us blasted through the arena.

This wasn’t just a song. This was a declaration of war.

The crowd lost their minds as Helen started throwing direct shots at Drake, Alabama, Christina Aguilera, Biggie, Suge Knight—anyone who had disrespected her or her father. Every bar hit hard, and by the time she delivered the final lines, the entire arena was shaking.

She ended with a fierce pose, the mic in one hand, the other throwing up the Westside sign.

The stadium exploded in cheers.

Helen stood there, taking it all in. And then—her eyes locked onto someone in the audience.

Her mother.

Beyoncé was on her feet, clapping, tears shining in her eyes.

Helen swallowed hard, her expression unreadable.

She turned, walking off stage, adrenaline still pumping.

Backstage, she quickly changed back into her sparkling dress before stepping back into the main hall.

As soon as she reached her friends, they swarmed her in excitement.

“That was INSANE!” Malachi shouted.

“You killed that!” Ariana cheered.

Helen laughed breathlessly, hugging them all before turning to Javon.

He was just staring at her, pure admiration in his eyes.

She smirked. “What? No words?”

Instead of answering, he pulled her into a tight hug.

And then—he kissed her.

The world faded for a moment. It was just them.

When they pulled away, Helen grinned and sat back down, still catching her breath.

She had owned the stage.

And she wasn’t done yet.

---

The Moment of Truth

Helen sat at her table, gripping Javon’s hand as the final Grammy category was announced.

“And the Grammy for Record of the Year goes to… Helen Shakur for Not Like Us!”

The arena erupted.

Helen’s mouth parted slightly, but before she could process it, her friends were screaming, shaking her, and pushing her to get up. Javon kissed her temple as she stood, gathering the five golden trophies she had already won that night.

She walked up the stage, feeling the weight of the moment. The cameras flashed, the audience roaring, but all she could hear was her own heartbeat.

She took the mic, staring out at the crowd, exhaling sharply before she spoke.

> “My dad always told me—when you do your best, that’s all you can do. You, me, and anybody else. So they always start talking.”

A few people in the audience murmured. Others clapped. But Helen wasn’t done.

> “I grew up listening to my father’s words like they were law. Tupac Shakur wasn’t just a legend—he was my dad. And my other dad? The one who raised me, protected me, taught me how to survive in this industry? That’s Marshall Mathers.”

The cameras panned to Eminem, sitting in the crowd with a small, proud smirk on his face.

Helen’s gaze flickered to the front row. Her mother. Beyoncé. Sitting with Jay-Z and Blue Ivy.

She wasn’t done yet.

> “And my sister? Hallie? My dad made sure she and I would always be good. But let’s be real—some parents don’t do that. Some leave.”

The audience gasped slightly.

Blue Ivy’s face fell. She looked crushed.

But Helen didn’t linger.

> “I wanna thank my team, my real family, my best friends, my man Javon—who has been by my side through everything—and most importantly, God. Because without Him, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

Helen adjusted her grip on the five Grammys in her hands, then smirked.

> “Oh, and Christina Aguilera?”

The audience roared.

Christina stiffened in her seat, already knowing what was coming.

> “You started with my dad and now you’re coming for me? Nah. See, that’s the problem. You’re not like us.”

The crowd erupted. People jumped out of their seats, screaming. Some were laughing. Others were clutching their chests like they had just witnessed a murder.

Helen tilted her head slightly, watching Christina’s forced, tight-lipped smile.

She lifted her Grammys in the air, her diamond bracelet glistening under the lights.

> “Goodnight, y’all. And remember—legends don’t die.”

She turned, walking off the stage, the entire arena chanting her name.

This was her moment.

---

Helen strutted back to her seat, her five Grammys in hand, the energy in the arena still electric from her speech. As soon as she reached her table, her friends were on their feet, cheering and hyping her up.

Javon pulled her into a tight hug, whispering, “You killed that, baby. That was legendary.”

She smirked, sliding into her seat as her friends crowded around her. Danielle fanned herself dramatically. “Girl, you just dragged Christina in front of the entire world. I know she’s sick right now.”

Kylie shook her head, laughing. “Nah, she gon’ pretend like she didn’t hear that. But we all did.”

Helen glanced over at Christina’s table. The pop star was clearly fuming, her jaw tight as she avoided looking in Helen’s direction. Beyoncé, however, sat a few tables away, watching Helen closely.

Helen felt her stomach tighten, but she quickly looked away. She wasn’t about to think about her mother tonight.

Instead, she turned back to her crew, clinking her glass with theirs as they all toasted to her big win.

“Five Grammys, y’all,” Helen said, shaking her head with a grin. “We really did that.”

Javon leaned in, kissing her temple. “You did that.”

And for the first time in a long time, Helen felt like she had truly won.

---

As Beyoncé’s name was called for her award, the entire arena erupted in cheers. Helen exhaled deeply, tapping her fingers on the table before making a decision. She clapped.

The second she did, it was as if the whole world went silent for a split second. People turned their heads, eyes widening in shock. Even celebrities in the front rows—Taylor Swift, Rihanna, Adele—stole glances at Helen like she had just flipped the entire industry on its head.

Javon leaned over. “You good?”

Helen nodded but kept clapping, watching as her mother gracefully made her way to the stage. Beyoncé took the mic, her expression unreadable, but her voice steady.

“I want to thank my family, my fans, my team,” she started. “And…” she hesitated for a moment, scanning the crowd, then locked eyes with Helen.

Helen felt her breath hitch.

“…I want to acknowledge my daughter, Helen,” Beyoncé continued, her voice thick with emotion. “She’s an incredible artist in her own right, and watching her tonight… it made me so proud.”

A few gasps spread through the crowd, murmurs picking up. Cameras instantly panned to Helen, capturing her reaction.

She swallowed hard, her grip tightening on one of her Grammys. She hadn’t expected that.

Beyoncé smiled softly. “I know we have our history, but you deserve everything that’s coming your way. And I hope this is just the beginning for you.”

More applause. Helen blinked a few times, caught off guard, her emotions tangled.

Javon nudged her gently. “Say something.”

Helen raised a hand, nodding slightly in her mom’s direction. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

And for the first time in her life, she wasn’t just Beyoncé’s forgotten daughter.

She was Helen. And the world finally saw her.

As the applause died down, Helen hesitated for a moment before mouthing, “Thank you. I’m happy for you.”

Beyoncé gave her a small, almost hesitant smile before stepping away from the mic. But Helen quickly sat down, her gaze dropping to her lap, fingers tracing the rim of her glass. She wasn’t ready for anything more.

Javon gently squeezed her knee under the table, grounding her. “That was big of you,” he murmured.

Helen let out a small scoff. “I just didn’t want to be her—petty and bitter.”

Danielle, sitting beside her, leaned in. “Girl, the whole world just witnessed history. That’s your mom. She literally just acknowledged you in front of everyone.”

Helen sighed. “Yeah, after sixteen years of silence.”

The table went quiet.

Kylie rubbed her arm. “Take your time. Forgiveness ain’t instant.”

Helen nodded, but deep down, she wasn’t sure forgiveness was even an option.

For now, she’d won her Grammys, she’d made her mark, and she had people who loved her. That was enough.

---

The After-Party

After the Grammys, the real fun began. The after-party was at a high-end club in L.A., packed with celebrities, flashing cameras, and loud music. Helen walked in, still in her stunning pink sparkly dress, but this time, she had her five Grammys in her hands as she posed for a few pictures before handing them off to her team.

Javon walked beside her, his arm draped protectively around her waist. “You good?” he asked, his voice low.

She smirked. “Hell yeah. I just won five Grammys.”

Danielle, Ariana, Sophie, and Kylie rushed up to her the second they spotted her. “Bitch, you ate tonight!” Danielle shouted over the music, shaking her shoulders playfully. “That speech? That performance? The SHADE? Whew!”

Helen laughed, letting loose for the first time in weeks. “I had to.”

“AND,” Kylie added, wiggling her eyebrows, “your mom acknowledged you in front of everyone. That’s wild.”

Helen rolled her eyes but couldn’t ignore the way her chest tightened at the thought. “We’re not talking about that tonight.”

“Fair,” Ariana said, grabbing her hand. “Let’s get drinks. And by drinks, I mean mocktails, since, you know—” She gestured at Helen knowingly.

Helen smirked. “Yeah, yeah, responsible sh*t. Let’s go.”

The group made their way toward the bar, where Malachi, Walker, and a few other industry friends were already chilling. Helen ordered a strawberry lemonade with a hint of something sour, while the others got their drinks.

As they drank and laughed, the DJ suddenly changed the song. The intro of Birds of a Feather played through the speakers, and the entire club screamed.

“OH SH*T, HELEN, THAT’S YOU!” Kylie yelled, shaking her shoulders.

Helen grinned as people started singing along, swaying to the beat. Then, she felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned around and locked eyes with none other than… Central Cee.

“Yo, congrats,” he said smoothly, leaning in so she could hear him over the music.

Helen raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You always popping up at the right time.”

He chuckled. “You looked like you needed that hug last time.”

Javon, who had been watching the whole interaction, immediately stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Helen’s waist again. His jaw was tight.

Helen noticed and bit back a laugh. Jealousy looks good on him.

“So, what’s next for Helen Shakur?” Central Cee asked, ignoring the tension between her and Javon.

Helen sipped her drink, her eyes glinting. “I take over the world.”

The night continued with dancing, photos, and more celebration. But deep down, Helen knew that once the after-party ended, the real world would be waiting.

For now, though? She was going to enjoy her damn night.

---

A Face from the Past

Helen was laughing with her friends when she felt a small tug on her dress. She turned, expecting to see a random fan or maybe one of the waitstaff trying to get her attention.

But instead, she looked down—and froze.

Standing in front of her was Blue Ivy Carter.

The 13-year-old looked nervous, shifting on her feet as she stared up at Helen with wide eyes. She was dressed in a sleek, designer outfit, her hair perfectly styled—exactly how the world expected Beyoncé’s daughter to look. But right now, she wasn’t some celebrity kid standing in a room full of icons. She was just a little sister looking up at the sister she barely knew.

“Helen…” Blue’s voice was soft, hesitant.

Helen felt her stomach tighten. She hadn’t been expecting this. She had spent years avoiding the idea of her mother, her mother’s new family, and especially this girl—the one who got the version of Beyoncé that Helen never did.

Her throat felt dry, but she forced herself to speak. “Blue.”

Javon, who had been at her side, noticed the shift in Helen’s mood. He placed a hand on her lower back, grounding her, but stayed quiet, letting her handle it.

Blue glanced around nervously, as if scared Helen might reject her in front of all these people. “I—I just wanted to say congrats,” she finally said. “You were amazing tonight.”

Helen blinked. Of all the things she expected, that wasn’t one of them. “Thanks,” she said slowly.

Blue bit her lip. “And… I also wanted to say, I—I’ve always wanted to meet you. For real. Not just see you on TV or hear about you in the industry. You’re my sister.”

Helen inhaled sharply, her jaw clenching. The word sister felt foreign, uncomfortable—like something she didn’t deserve, or maybe like something she had been robbed of.

For years, she had built a wall between herself and her mother’s new life. She convinced herself she didn’t care. That Blue was just some rich kid who had nothing to do with her.

But standing here, looking at Blue’s hopeful expression, Helen realized… this was just a kid. A kid who hadn’t done anything wrong.

Helen glanced at her friends, who were all definitely eavesdropping. Kylie was nudging Danielle, Ariana’s eyes were wide, and even Malachi looked invested.

She sighed, shifting on her feet before finally saying, “…You wanna sit with us for a bit?”

Blue’s face lit up with relief, and she nodded quickly. “Yeah! I mean—yeah, that’d be cool.”

Helen couldn’t believe what she was doing, but maybe… just maybe… she didn’t have to figure this out alone.

---

Face to Face

Helen had just come back from talking to Taylor Swift, still grinning from ear to ear. Taylor was sweet as hell, genuinely kind, and had even told Helen she was proud of her success. The conversation left Helen feeling good, something she hadn’t felt consistently in a while.

Then, as if the night wasn’t already unpredictable, she bumped into Central Cee again.

"Again?" Helen teased, looking up at him with a smirk.

Cench grinned. "Guess we keep runnin' into each other, huh?"

They talked for a bit—just casual conversation, laughing over dumb jokes, and Helen found herself relaxing. He was easy to be around, and in that moment, it was nice to just talk to someone without the weight of drama pressing down on her.

As their conversation wrapped up, Central pulled her into a quick hug. "Take care of yourself, yeah?"

"You too," Helen replied, patting his back before he walked off into the crowd.

But the second she turned back around, her body went rigid.

Standing right in front of her, watching her closely, was her mom.

Beyoncé.

Helen’s breath hitched, and for the first time that night, she felt stuck. Frozen in place.

Her heart pounded as they locked eyes, the air thick with unspoken words.

Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.

Helen clenched her fists, swallowing the lump in her throat. She had imagined this moment a million times—what she would say, how she would act. But now that it was happening? She didn’t know what to do.

“…Hi, Helen,” Beyoncé finally said softly.

Helen inhaled sharply. She could feel everyone in the room moving, talking, dancing—but for her? Time had just stopped.

Unspoken Tension

Helen just stared at her.

She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to call her.

“Mom?” No. That didn’t feel right.“Beyoncé?” Too distant, too formal.Nothing? Maybe that was best.

Her throat felt tight as she just stood there, frozen, her fists clenched at her sides. Beyoncé looked at her with something unreadable in her eyes—sadness, regret, maybe even hope.

“It’s been a long time,” Beyoncé said softly.

No shit, Helen wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come out.

She could hear the music pounding around them, the voices of celebrities chatting, the cameras flashing somewhere in the background. But right now? It was like they were the only two people in the room.

“I—” Beyoncé started, then stopped.

Helen raised an eyebrow, waiting.

She knew this was supposed to be some big, emotional moment. Some life-changing reunion. But all she felt was… nothing.

Well, maybe not nothing. She felt anger. Confusion. But also this weird, gnawing emptiness in her chest that she hated.

After a long pause, Beyoncé took a slow breath. “Can we talk?”

Helen still didn’t answer.

Her silence was loud, cutting through the noise of the afterparty like a knife.

A Conversation Years in the Making

"Yeah," Helen finally said, her voice flat.

Beyoncé exhaled, like she’d been holding her breath. “Can we go somewhere more private?”

Helen glanced around the packed afterparty—her friends watching from a distance, Javon’s tense expression, Blue Ivy whispering something to Malachi. Cameras were everywhere.

"Fine," she muttered.

They walked toward a quieter corner, away from the flashing lights and buzzing conversations. Helen crossed her arms, bracing herself.

Beyoncé hesitated, then spoke. "I know I don't deserve this conversation. But I just... I need to say something."

Helen didn’t respond, just stared at her, waiting.

"I never wanted to leave you." Beyoncé's voice cracked, and for the first time, Helen saw something real in her eyes. "I was young, my career was exploding, and your father and I... we couldn't make it work. I thought leaving was the best thing—for both of us."

Helen let out a cold laugh. "Best for who? 'Cause it sure as hell wasn't me."

Beyoncé swallowed hard. "I thought I was protecting you from the chaos. I thought if I kept my distance, you’d have a better life—"

"Better life?" Helen’s voice rose, her anger bubbling over. "Do you know what it was like growing up without you? Watching you raise Blue like the perfect daughter while I was just... forgotten?"

Beyoncé flinched. "I never forgot you."

"Then why didn't you come back?" Helen's voice broke, and she hated it. She hated that this still hurt.

Beyoncé blinked rapidly, like she was fighting tears. "Because I was a coward."

Silence. Heavy. Uncomfortable.

Helen’s chest ached, but she kept her arms crossed, her face cold.

"I saw you tonight," Beyoncé continued. "Up there, performing, winning... I was so proud of you."

Helen looked away, her jaw clenched.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness," Beyoncé added quietly. "I just want you to know the truth. And... if you ever want a relationship, I'm here."

Helen let out a slow breath, staring at the floor. The part of her that ached wanted to believe her. Wanted to hug her. Wanted to let her in.

But the other part? The louder part? It wasn’t so sure.

"...I don't know," Helen admitted.

And for now, that was the best she could do.

The Breaking Point

Helen stiffened. Her blood boiled as Beyoncé's words echoed in her head.

"Tupac wasn’t really the best person."

The air around them grew thick. Helen’s hands curled into fists at her sides.

“You don’t get to say that,” she said, her voice dangerously low.

Beyoncé sighed. “I’m just saying, he had his flaws—”

“He was the best person in my life!” Helen exploded, her voice shaking the walls. Heads turned, but she didn’t care. “At least he stayed! At least he gave a damn about me! Meanwhile, you ran off and played house with your perfect little family like I never even existed!”

“Helen—”

“And you wanna talk about flaws? How about your husband’s people working with Death Row Records to have my dad murdered in that car—right in front of me?!”

Beyoncé’s face drained of color. “That’s not true.”

Helen laughed bitterly, her eyes burning with unshed tears. “Don’t play dumb! You knew who he was working with. You knew all along, and you still married him!”

Beyoncé opened her mouth, but no words came out. Helen felt sick.

“You don’t get to walk in here like everything’s fine,” she continued, her voice cracking. “Like you didn’t leave me. Like you didn’t choose your career, your husband, and your other kid over me. You left me to grow up without a mother! And now you wanna act like we can just fix this?”

Tears streamed down Helen’s face. She could barely breathe. She was angry, but more than anything, she was hurt.

Beyoncé was crying too now, her body trembling. “I—I thought I was doing what was best. I didn’t know how to come back.”

Helen shook her head, stepping back. “You don’t get to be the victim in this.”

Beyoncé wiped her face, her expression shattered. “I know. I know I don’t.”

Silence fell between them, the weight of years—decades—crushing down.

Helen turned away, exhausted.

“I need air,” she muttered, storming out before Beyoncé could say another word.

---The Collapse

Helen stumbled, her vision blurring as the world spun around her. Her chest tightened, breath coming in short, shallow gasps. She took one shaky step before her knees buckled, and—

THUD.

She hit the floor.

Gasps ripped through the crowd.

“Helen!” Javon’s voice was the first to cut through the panic. Footsteps pounded against the floor as people rushed toward her.

Her body lay limp, her face pale.

Someone screamed, “She’s not breathing!”

Chaos erupted. People shouted for help, phones were pulled out, and the music stopped abruptly.

Javon was already on his knees beside her, his hands trembling as he shook her lightly. “Baby, wake up! Helen!” His voice cracked, pure fear flooding his face.

Beyoncé was frozen, her body trembling, watching helplessly. Blue Ivy clutched her mother’s arm, her own eyes wide in terror.

Ariana and Danielle pushed through the crowd, screaming for someone to call 911.

Javon pressed his ear to Helen’s chest, his heart dropping when he didn’t hear anything. “No, no, no—somebody help!”

Then—someone yelled, “She has a pulse, but it’s weak!”

Relief barely settled before paramedics rushed in, pushing through the sea of people.

Javon didn’t move, didn’t let go of her hand, even as they started working on her. His heart was pounding in his ears.

This couldn’t be happening. Not her. Not his Helen.

Flatline

The paramedics froze for half a second before launching into full panic mode.

“She’s in cardiac arrest! No pulse! No breathing!” one of them shouted, ripping open their medical kit.

“Starting CPR!” Another yelled as they pushed Javon back, forcing him to let go of Helen’s limp hand.

“No, no, no! She’s fine! Helen, wake up! Please!” Javon fought to get closer, but security held him back. His chest felt like it was collapsing.

One paramedic began chest compressions, counting out loud.

“1…2…3…4—”

Another paramedic pulled out the defibrillator, their hands shaking as they placed the pads on her chest.

“Charging!”

The crowd had gone silent. Even the music had stopped. Tears streamed down Ariana’s face as she clutched Danielle’s arm, watching in horror. Beyoncé stood in complete shock, unable to move.

“CLEAR!”

A shock jolted through Helen’s body.

Nothing.

Javon was sobbing, his whole body trembling. “Come on, baby, wake up! Don’t do this to me!”

“Charging again! CLEAR!”

Another jolt.

The heart monitor remained flat.

“No, no, no! She’s not gone! She’s not gone!” Javon’s voice cracked, his knees nearly giving out.

A third shock was sent through her body.

A tense pause—

And then—

Beep…beep…beep…

A weak, slow pulse.

“We got her back! She’s got a pulse!” a paramedic shouted.

Javon collapsed onto his knees, sobbing into his hands as relief rushed through him.

But Helen still wasn’t awake.

“We need to get her to the hospital NOW!”

The paramedics rushed Helen out of the venue on a stretcher, her body limp and her face pale. The heart monitor beeped weakly, a haunting reminder that she was still barely holding on.

Taylor Swift and Sabrina Carpenter stood near the entrance, clutching each other, their faces soaked with tears as they watched in horror.

Blue Ivy was sobbing, gripping her mother’s dress as Beyoncé stood frozen, her face drained of color. Guilt and fear raced through her eyes as she watched her own daughter being carried out, barely alive.

Ariana, Danielle, Sophie, and the rest of Helen’s friends were hysterical, clinging to each other as security tried to hold them back.

Javon refused to be left behind. “I’m going with her!” he demanded, his voice hoarse from crying.

The paramedics hesitated, but one finally nodded. “Get in, but don’t get in the way.”

Javon jumped into the ambulance, grabbing Helen’s cold hand, his fingers shaking as he pressed it against his lips. “Baby, please… I need you to wake up.”

As the ambulance sped off, celebrities were left stunned, many of them crying. The once glamorous Grammy afterparty had turned into a nightmare.

---

The ambulance raced through the city, sirens blaring as the paramedics worked frantically on Helen. One of them shouted, “We’re losing her! No pulse!”

Javon sat in the corner, his whole body trembling, watching as they tried to revive her. His heart felt like it was being ripped apart. He had never been so terrified in his life.

“Charging to 200!” one of the paramedics yelled as they placed the defibrillator pads on her chest.

BZZZT! Helen’s body jerked from the shock, but the monitor still showed a flatline.

“Come on, Helen!” Javon cried, gripping his hair.

“Again! 300!”

BZZZT!

The seconds felt like hours.

Then, suddenly—

Beep… Beep… Beep.

The monitor spiked.

“She’s back!” a paramedic shouted.

Javon let out a sob of relief, grabbing her hand again. “Baby, please wake up,” he whispered, his tears dripping onto her skin.

Helen’s eyelids fluttered weakly, but she didn’t wake up.

“We’re almost at the hospital,” another paramedic assured him. “She’s not out of the woods yet, but she’s fighting.”

Javon nodded, his jaw clenched as he kissed her cold hand.

“I’m right here, baby. I’m not leaving you.”

—

At the hospital, doctors and nurses rushed her into the ER, leaving Javon in the waiting room, his head in his hands.

Within minutes, Helen’s friends arrived, Ariana, Danielle, Sophie, Kylie, and the others crying as they ran in.

Beyoncé and Blue Ivy arrived soon after, pale and shaken. Beyoncé looked like she had aged 10 years in the past hour.

Eminem, Helen’s dad, stormed into the hospital, his face twisted with rage and fear.

“Where is my daughter?!” he roared.

Javon stood up immediately, his eyes red from crying.

“She’s in there.” His voice was hoarse.

Marshall’s fists clenched, his eyes burning with fury as he turned and locked eyes with Beyoncé.

“This is your fking fault.**”

Beyoncé’s lips quivered, but she said nothing, just looked down as silent tears ran down her face.

The waiting room was silent, the air thick with tension and grief.

And all they could do now—

Was wait.

The doorbell rang, echoing through Helen’s house. Everyone inside—Marshall, Blue Ivy, Ariana, Danielle, Sophie, Kylie, Malachi, and the rest of her friends—froze. The air was already heavy, the past few months had been hell, with Helen in a coma and no updates on whether she would wake up.

Marshall stood up first, his jaw clenched as he walked toward the door. He wasn’t ready for bad news—he never would be.

When he opened it, two police officers stood there, their faces grim, their eyes filled with pity.

“Mr. Mathers?” one of them asked.

Marshall nodded slowly. “Yeah… what’s this about?”

The officer sighed and took off his hat, glancing at the others in the living room.

“Maybe you should all sit down for this.”

The tension spiked. Marshall’s stomach dropped. Blue Ivy’s hands started shaking. Sophie grabbed Ariana’s hand, her breath shallow.

“No,” Marshall said, his voice rough. “Just say it.”

The officer hesitated before finally speaking.

“Helen… she passed away earlier this morning.”

The room fell silent.

Blue Ivy let out a sharp gasp, covering her mouth as tears poured down her face. Sophie screamed “No!” and collapsed into Ariana’s arms. Kylie’s breathing became erratic as she shook her head violently, whispering “You’re lying. You’re lying.”

Marshall stood there, staring, his body completely still. It was like the world had gone mute. His heart stopped beating. His mind refused to process the words.

“No.” His voice was dangerously low. “She’s in a coma. She’s not dead. You’re wrong.”

The officer sighed again. “The doctors did everything they could, sir. But she… she didn’t make it.”

“You’re fking lying!**” Marshall suddenly roared, flipping the coffee table in front of him, sending everything crashing to the floor.

Tears burned in his eyes, but he refused to cry. He refused to believe it.

Javon wasn’t there—he was at the hospital, sitting by Helen’s side like he always did. He didn’t even know yet.

Danielle screamed into her hands, Malachi punched the wall, Walker sat there in shock, completely frozen.

The officers looked at the broken family in front of them and sighed, giving them a moment to grieve.

“I’m really sorry for your loss.”

And with that, they walked out, leaving the house filled with sobs, shattered hearts, and broken souls.

Javon walked in, his face tired, his eyes slightly red from lack of sleep. He had just left the hospital, where he had spent the entire morning talking to Helen, holding her cold hand, brushing her hair back, telling her about all the things they were going to do when she woke up.

But when he stepped inside Helen’s house, the atmosphere felt off—wrong.

The first thing he noticed was the silence. No laughter, no voices—just silence.

Then, he saw them.

Marshall stood frozen, his hands clenched into fists, his face pale. Danielle and Ariana were both sobbing uncontrollably. Blue Ivy had her face buried in her hands, her small shoulders shaking. Sophie was on the floor, curled up, her body trembling.

And then… Javon saw the police officers.

His stomach dropped.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice cautious. No one looked at him. No one answered.

His heartbeat quickened.

“What the f**k is going on?” he said, louder this time, his voice shaking.

Still, no one spoke.

He turned to Marshall, his chest tightening. “Where’s Helen?”

Marshall looked up at him slowly, his bloodshot eyes filled with something dark—grief. Pain. A pain deeper than anything Javon had ever seen before.

Javon’s hands started to shake.

“Where’s Helen?!” he shouted.

No one answered.

His breathing became erratic as his mind raced. No. No, no, no.

“SOMEONE FKING SAY SOMETHING!**”

Finally, Blue Ivy lifted her tear-streaked face and choked out the words that would break him forever.

“She’s… she’s gone.”

Javon stumbled back, like he had just been punched in the chest.

No. No, that wasn’t possible. He had just been with her. He had just been talking to her.

He shook his head violently.

“No, she’s not,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was just with her… I was just at the hospital—I was talking to her.”

Danielle let out a heartbreaking sob.

Javon turned to Marshall, desperate, pleading.

“She’s not dead. Tell them. Tell them she’s not dead!”

Marshall closed his eyes, his entire body shaking.

Javon’s vision blurred as he turned back to Blue Ivy.

“I was holding her hand,” his voice cracked. “I was talking to her. I—I was talking to her.”

And then it hit him.

The cold hands. The way she didn’t react when he touched her. The way the nurses were avoiding his gaze when he spoke.

He had been talking to a dead body.

His legs gave out. He fell to his knees, gripping his hair as a broken sob tore from his throat.

“NO!”

He screamed so loudly, it shook the entire room. His pain filled every corner, every space.

And in that moment, the reality crushed him.

Helen was gone.

---

Javon froze in the doorway, his heart stopping at the sight in front of him. Helen—alive. Her eyes open, her lips curled into that familiar smirk, weak but there. His vision blurred with tears, but this time, they weren’t from pain.

Blue Ivy let out a choked sob and ran straight to Helen’s bedside, grabbing her hand tightly. “You scared me!” she sniffled, her voice shaking.

Helen gave her a tired smile and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Blue. I’m here, okay?”

Marshall stood frozen, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, like he was trying to hold himself together. But his eyes betrayed him, glistening with the kind of relief only a father who almost lost his daughter could feel.

Danielle wiped her tears aggressively. “Bch, don’t ever do that again!”

Ariana nodded, sniffling. “I was already picking out a funeral dress.”

Helen chuckled weakly, leaning her head back against the pillow. “See? Y’all were really out here planning my funeral. I wasn’t even dead that long!”

Javon couldn’t move. He just stared at her, like if he blinked, she’d disappear again.

Helen’s gaze finally landed on him. Her smirk softened.

“Javon?” she called, her voice gentle.

That was all it took.

Javon stormed forward, his chest heaving, his jaw clenched, and without thinking, he cupped her face and kissed her—hard.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was everything—his fear, his relief, his love, all crashing into her at once. He didn’t care who was watching. He didn’t care that he was crying.

Helen smiled against his lips and kissed him back.

When they finally pulled away, she giggled softly, brushing a tear off his cheek. “You really thought you lost me?”

Javon swallowed hard, his voice cracking. “I did lose you. You weren’t breathing. Your heart—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

She held his face and whispered, “I promise.”

The room was still tense with emotion, but then Malachi blurted, “Okay, but what was with that butterfly? That sh*t was kinda magical.”

Everyone turned to look at him, and for the first time in hours, they all laughed.

Helen was alive. And that was all that mattered.

The room fell silent. Everyone watched Helen, their breaths held as she looked down at her hands, her fingers trembling slightly.

“I saw him,” she whispered.

Javon frowned, stepping closer. “Who?”

Helen swallowed hard, her eyes flickering between them before finally settling on her dad—Marshall.

“My dad. Tupac.”

Ariana let out a small gasp. Blue Ivy’s eyes widened. Even Marshall stiffened, his usual tough exterior cracking for a split second.

Helen took a deep breath, her voice shaky but certain.

“He told me he was proud of me. That I’ve been strong through everything. And… he told me I need to forgive my mom.”

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Helen’s gaze drifted toward the window, where the blue butterfly had flown away. She smiled softly.

“He saved me.”

Javon squeezed her hand. “What do you mean?”

Helen’s eyes met his, filled with something deeper—something almost unreal.

“He was the butterfly.”

A tear slipped down Blue Ivy’s cheek as she whispered, “He brought you back…”

Marshall looked away, his jaw tight. His hands curled into fists like he was trying to fight off the emotion threatening to break through.

Helen nodded. “Yeah. He did.”

The weight of her words settled over everyone, heavy yet comforting. The man who had never left her heart had just saved her life.

And now, she had to do what he asked.

She had to face her mother.

As the door creaked open, Beyoncé stepped inside, her movements hesitant like she wasn’t sure if she was welcome. Helen watched her mother carefully, her face unreadable.

“Helen…” Beyoncé started, her voice soft but laced with emotions.

Helen held up a hand, stopping her. She took a deep breath, her body still weak from everything that had happened, but she sat up straighter, determined.

“Before you say anything… I want them to stay.” She motioned toward the corner of the room where Javon, Marshall, Blue Ivy, and her friends stood. They all stiffened, but no one moved.

Beyoncé swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay.”

Helen’s fingers fidgeted with the hospital blanket, her mind racing. She didn’t even know where to begin. There was so much anger. So much pain.

“You left me,” she finally said, her voice cold. “You had me, but then you had Blue and forgot I even existed.”

Beyoncé’s eyes glossed over with tears. “That’s not true. I—”

“Then where the hell were you?” Helen snapped, her voice shaking. “Do you know what it’s like growing up knowing your own mother chose a whole different family over you? Watching from a distance while you smiled and laughed with them like I was never even born?”

Beyoncé pressed a hand to her chest, like the words had physically hurt her. “Helen, I—”

“No!” Helen cut her off, her anger boiling over. “You don’t get to come in here and act like everything’s fine! Like you suddenly care now that I almost died!”

Beyoncé wiped at a tear that slipped down her cheek. “I always cared.”

Helen let out a humorless laugh. “Really? ‘Cause it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.”

Silence.

The air in the room was thick, suffocating.

Beyoncé took a step forward, her voice pleading. “I made mistakes. I won’t ever be able to take them back, but I need you to know… I never stopped loving you. I just— I was young, and I didn’t know how to balance it all.”

Helen’s jaw clenched. “That’s not an excuse. You were young? My dad was young, too, but he never left me. He died right in front of me, and even after death, he still found a way to be here for me.”

Beyoncé’s face crumbled.

Helen inhaled shakily, her hands gripping the sheets. “He told me to forgive you. That’s the only reason I’m even talking to you right now. But I’m not there yet.”

Beyoncé nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I understand.”

Helen looked away, blinking fast. She hated how much this conversation was breaking her.

“I need time,” she whispered.

Beyoncé hesitated before nodding again. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

Helen finally met her mother’s gaze, searching for any sign of dishonesty. But all she saw was regret. Pain. Hope.

She wasn’t ready to forgive.

But maybe—just maybe—she could try.

Beyoncé’s breath hitched as Helen’s words hung in the air.

"Mom, I forgive you."

For a moment, there was silence. The weight of years of pain, resentment, and abandonment pressed down on both of them. Then, Beyoncé’s lip trembled, and she let out a shaky breath, as if she had been holding it in for years.

“Helen…” she whispered, stepping forward, unsure if she was allowed to embrace her.

Helen exhaled deeply, her walls still up, but something in her chest felt lighter. She looked at Beyoncé and nodded once.

That was all the permission her mother needed.

Beyoncé rushed forward and wrapped her arms around her daughter, holding on like she would never let go. Helen felt her mother’s body shake with sobs against her, and for the first time in her life, she let herself melt into her mother’s arms.

It felt strange. Unfamiliar. But at the same time… it felt right.

Tears silently slipped down Helen’s face as she whispered, “You can’t leave again.”

Beyoncé pulled back just enough to look at her daughter, her hands cupping her face. “Never. I swear.”

Helen searched her mother’s face, looking for any signs of doubt, but all she saw was love.

For the first time in forever, she felt like she had her mom. Really had her.

In the corner, Marshall, Javon, Blue Ivy, and her friends stood watching, their faces a mix of shock and relief.

Javon smiled softly, his eyes filled with pride as he watched Helen let go of some of the pain that had been eating her alive.

Blue Ivy wiped her own tears and whispered, “Finally.”

Helen let out a small, tired laugh and wiped her face. “Okay, okay, enough crying. I just came back from the dead, I don’t need another emotional breakdown.”

Everyone chuckled softly, the tension finally breaking.

Beyoncé smiled, brushing Helen’s hair behind her ear. “I’m so proud of you.”

Helen swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. “Thanks, Mom.”

It would take time. Healing wasn’t instant.

But this? This was a start.

---

Beyoncé✔️

(Pretend its Beyoncé and Helen)

Caption:my sweet baby💘Liked by: maliabaker,centralcee,arianagreenblatt, kyleepruitt, kyliecantrall, malachibarton, sophiegrace,sophiefergi, bhadbhabie,sophiefergi,sarahdorothylittle and 100,000,00 others.

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