Chapter 3: The Path to Stardom
Date: March 12, 1992
Location: Houston, Texas, USA
Age: 10
Year: 1992
Beyoncé was just ten years old, yet her world was already a blur of rehearsals, performances, and expectations. Her father, Mathew Knowles, had officially become her manager when she was only seven, and since then, he had been relentless in guiding her toward stardom. Every free moment was filled with singing and dancing, her natural talent blossoming under his watchful eye. She practiced for hours each day, mastering the moves and melodies, her voice growing stronger, her presence more commanding with every performance.
But in the back of her mind, the memories of her previous life constantly lingered. She had died in 2022, and though the details of her death were still a bit murky, she remembered the feeling of it—fame, fortune, heartbreak, and exhaustion all consuming her. And now, she was back in a body that was younger, eager, and full of potential, but it wasn't as if she had a clean slate. The knowledge of who she had been, of the music she had sung, the fame she had earned, and the personal sacrifices she had made, was still there, haunting her.
Her family was supportive, of course. Her mother, Tina, was nurturing, keeping her grounded amidst the whirlwind of performances and rehearsals. But it was Mathew who took the reigns, always pushing her to reach higher, do better, and be greater than she already was. He had a vision for her, and nothing would deter him from seeing it fulfilled.
"You've got something special, Beyoncé," Mathew would say, his voice filled with that blend of pride and determination. "We're going to make it big, just you wait."
And she knew he believed it—just as much as she did.
---
Today, they were in the studio again, practicing for an upcoming talent competition. Beyoncé stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection as she went through the routine with precision. Her body moved with grace, her feet sliding across the floor as if the rhythm was woven into her very being. She could feel the beat of the music vibrating through her chest, her pulse syncing with it as her body responded naturally.
Her dance teacher clapped his hands, signaling for her to take a break. "That was fantastic, Beyoncé! You've got the moves down. Just remember to keep your energy up on stage."
Beyoncé nodded, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Her eyes met her reflection in the mirror, and for a brief moment, she saw the face of the woman she had once been—older, more polished, more experienced. She saw the glimmer of confidence, the quiet understanding of her own power. But it was a fleeting thought.
She turned her attention back to her teacher. "I'll keep practicing," she said, though the words felt rehearsed, like a line from a script she had memorized.
Beyoncé knew what was expected of her. She had been trained her whole life for this moment, and though she still grappled with the heavy memories of her past, the one thing she didn't have to think about was the music. The music was part of her, just as much as her heart beat in her chest. It was where her confidence came from.
---
As the evening approached, and the rehearsals came to an end, Mathew drove her home. The car ride was filled with silence, save for the hum of the engine and the soft thrum of the radio in the background. Mathew's focus was always on the future, but even he couldn't hide the exhaustion from his eyes. He was tired, just like Beyoncé felt tired. It wasn't physical fatigue—it was a weariness that came from pushing yourself too hard, trying to reach an elusive goal.
Beyoncé knew it too well. She remembered the exhaustion of her past life, the constant pressure to be perfect, the need to always deliver. There was never a moment to just breathe, to be herself without the weight of the world on her shoulders.
She glanced at her father, his hands tight on the steering wheel. "Dad, when do we get to rest?" she asked, her voice soft, unsure if she should voice such thoughts.
Mathew looked at her briefly, his brow furrowing. "Rest? Beyoncé, we're just getting started. Rest comes later, once you've made it."
Her father's words echoed in her mind, and for a brief moment, she couldn't help but feel a pang of fear. She knew what that future looked like. She knew how it would unfold. She knew the sacrifices that came with the fame, the constant scrutiny, the loneliness behind the bright lights. She had lived it all once before.
Will I make the same mistakes again? she wondered. Will I lose myself like I did before?
But she didn't have an answer.
---
Over the next few months, her life continued on the fast track. Mathew was pushing her harder than ever, booking her for every talent show, every local performance, and every competition he could find. The world was slowly beginning to take notice. People were starting to hear about the young girl with the powerful voice and the electric presence on stage. But it wasn't enough. Mathew was determined to take her all the way—to make her a household name.
Beyoncé found herself balancing between two worlds. On one hand, there was the girl who just wanted to sing, to dance, to be free. On the other hand, there was the woman who had once lived through the fame, who had been forced to face the brutal side of stardom. She remembered the sacrifices—the time lost, the relationships fractured, the constant pressure to be flawless.
But she wasn't ready to give up. Not yet.
As she prepared for yet another performance, her reflection in the mirror spoke to her in a way that felt more real than ever before. She was young. She was talented. But she was also burdened by the weight of who she had been.
The time was coming—the inevitable moment when everything would change. She would rise. She would be great. But at what cost?
For now, she couldn't worry about that. She had a stage to conquer. A future to secure. And the music that ran through her veins wouldn't let her rest until she had reached the top.
So, with a deep breath, she turned toward the spotlight. Ready to face whatever came next. Ready to make her mark on the world—again.
This is my first time writing this story let me know how well I do though