Inspired by Beyoncé and Lady Gaga’s song Video Phone.

You didn’t ask. You told him.

“We’re filming this.”

Art blinked, half-laughing with confusion, still breathless from the kiss you’d just pulled him into the moment you got into his dorm. “Like… on your phone?”

You were already walking away, hips swaying, hand pulling your phone out of your purse. “I’m talking full scene. You and me. Caught in the act.”

Art leaned against the door, watching you—messy hair, red lipstick, short dress that left little to the imagination. Somehow, he noticed you looked at him like he was the only thing in the world worth watching.

“You know, I’m not used to this,” he said. “Being recorded.”

You turned, cocked your head. “You play tennis in front of thousands.”

“That’s different.”

You moved toward him, lifting your phone like a mirror and pressing record. The screen now captures you both—your gaze sure and confident, while Art is flushed, caught somewhere between awe and anticipation.

You rested your phone against a water bottle on the dresser next to Art’s bed. In no time, you’d drawn him close, and he sat at the edge of the mattress, gazing at you with those soft eyes.

“Now kiss me,” you whispered—and he did. Because it was you who told him to, and he loved the way you took control like that.