The spotlight in hip-hop can feel like a warm embrace one minute and a blinding interrogation the next, illuminating triumphs while casting long shadows over personal battles. For Megan Thee Stallion, the 30-year-old Houston powerhouse who’s turned vulnerability into anthems of resilience, the past few years have been a whirlwind of chart-topping victories laced with profound losses. Her self-titled album Megan, released in March 2025, soared to No. 1 on the Billboard 200, proving once again that she’s not just surviving the industry—she’s reshaping it. But as fans toasted her latest milestone with shots of her new tequila brand, Chicas Divertidas, a different kind of buzz emerged: whispers that her idol and collaborator, Beyoncé, might be pulling back the curtain on Meg’s well-guarded struggles with alcohol in a way that feels less like sisterly support and more like subtle shade. Add to that Bey’s conspicuous silence at the 2025 BET Awards—no repost for Meg’s explosive performance with GloRilla, despite glowing shoutouts to Victoria Monét and Tinashe—and suddenly, the narrative shifts from unbreakable bond to unspoken beef. Is this the fracture of a fabled friendship, or just the internet’s latest fever dream?

Let’s rewind to the roots of this rumored rift, because Megan and Beyoncé’s story has long been one of mutual elevation. Back in 2020, Beyoncé hopped on the remix to Meg’s breakout single “Savage,” catapulting it to No. 1 on the Hot 100 and earning the duo a Grammy for Best Rap Song—the first for a female duo in the category. It was a full-circle moment for Megan, who grew up idolizing Bey as the gold standard of Black womanhood: poised, powerful, and unapologetically excellent. “Beyoncé is my idol,” Meg gushed in a 2024 interview, her voice thick with awe. Their paths crossed again during Bey’s Renaissance World Tour in 2023, where Meg joined as a surprise guest, twerking through “Partition” in a moment that had Hotties (Meg’s devoted fanbase) ugly-crying in the stands. These weren’t just collabs; they felt like a passing of the torch, with Beyoncé mentoring the next gen on everything from stage presence to business savvy.

Enter the tequila tale, which surfaced in a candid July 2024 chat on Shannon Sharpe’s Club Shay Shay podcast. Megan, sipping on a shot of cognac (a nod to her self-proclaimed “Cognac Queen” persona), spilled how Beyoncé sparked her latest venture. “Beyoncé is actually the person that inspired me to get my own tequila,” she shared, eyes lighting up with genuine gratitude. The story went like this: During a casual hangout, Bey noticed Meg’s enthusiasm for spirits—her go-to unwind after grueling tour days—and dropped a gem: “The next time I see you, you better have your own.” To Meg, it was classic Bey wisdom—channel your passion into profit, just like her own Ivy Park empire or Jay-Z’s D’Ussé cognac line. Fast-forward to February 15, 2025—Meg’s 30th birthday—and Chicas Divertidas launched with a bang. The premium blanco and reposado tequilas, crafted from 100% Blue Weber agave at Jalisco’s Casa Centinela distillery, flew off shelves in limited drops, blending citrusy zing with sultry oak notes. “Smooth, sultry, and premium,” Meg beamed in the announcement, crediting the brand as a “labor of love” for her Hotties. Sales topped 50,000 cases in the first month, a testament to her savvy pivot from stage to spirits.

But here’s where the fairy tale frays: Not everyone bought the feel-good origin story. Online sleuths, ever eager to unearth drama, reframed Bey’s nudge as a veiled intervention. “Pressuring an alcoholic into promoting their own booze? Devious,” one viral tweet read, racking up 200,000 likes. The accusation hit hard because Megan’s relationship with alcohol isn’t just party fuel—it’s a thread woven through her traumas. In her raw 2023 single “Cobra,” she laid it bare: “Every night I cried, I almost died… A bottle in my hand to numb the pain.” The track, her first solo release post-Tory Lanez’s 10-year sentencing for shooting her feet in 2020, peeled back layers of grief. Megan lost her father, Joseph Pete, to illness when she was just 15; he’d been incarcerated for much of her childhood, emerging as a steadying force before his untimely passing. Then came the gut-wrench—her mother and manager, Holly Thomas, battling brain cancer and succumbing in March 2019, right as Meg’s star was rising. “I’ve lost both of my parents. Now I’m like, ‘Oh my gosh, who do I talk to?'” she confessed on Taraji P. Henson’s Peace of Mind in 2021, crediting therapy for pulling her from the edge.

Alcohol, she admitted, became a crutch in those fog-shrouded days—a way to “numb the pain” amid the isolation of fame. Early career tales painted her as the life of the party, dubbing her the “designated driver” because she’d “drive the boat” (a euphamism for keeping the vibes high with endless shots). But the 2020 Tory incident cast a darker shadow: All parties involved—Lanez, his driver Kelsey Harris, and Megan—were deep in the drink that July night after Kylie Jenner’s Hollywood Hills bash. Court docs revealed slurred arguments, blurred memories; Megan later testified the haze made recounting the shooting “torture,” her feet shattered by five bullets in a curbside chaos. “We was drunk as hell that night,” prosecutors noted, the booze blurring lines between brawl and bullet. Meg’s since championed sobriety streaks, channeling that energy into empowerment anthems like “Body” and therapy advocacy via her Pete & Thomas Foundation. Yet critics pounced: Launching Chicas felt tone-deaf, a glamorization of the very vice that nearly derailed her.

The speculation ignited further at the BET Awards on June 9, 2025, where Black music’s biggest night unfolded at L.A.’s Peacock Theater. Megan, fresh off Megan‘s dominance (three nominations, including Album of the Year), stormed the stage with GloRilla for a medley of “Wanna Be” and “Yeah Glo!,” their twerk-off chemistry sending the crowd into frenzy. “GloRilla and Megan Thee Stallion’s chemistry is so crazy,” one X user raved, as the duo’s parachute entrance and high-energy hits earned a standing ovation. Doechii snagged Best Female Hip-Hop Artist, but Meg’s set was a highlight, blending her sultry swagger with Glo’s Memphis grit. Victoria Monét and Tinashe, meanwhile, dazzled with a sultry tribute to Usher and Beyoncé’s 2004 “Bad Girl” performance, their electric energy earning Video of the Year nods. Then came the rub: Beyoncé, ever the elusive tastemaker, lit up her IG Stories with side-by-side clips of the homage, captioning it a nod to the originals. Monét gagged: “OOOOH MYYYY GOD!!!!! I AM SCREAMING!!” Tinashe echoed: “Beyoncé we love you the original bad girl.” But Meg’s fireworks? Crickets from Queen Bey.

The omission felt seismic in a sea of solidarity. Bey’s historically sparse social media—reserved for Renaissance drops or Cowboy Carter collabs—makes every repost a royal endorsement. Why glow up Victoria and Tinashe, but ghost the Hottie who’s shouted her out endlessly? “Beyonce being a Virgo could have been a shady remark,” one Redditor mused, Virgo’s reputation for precision cutting both ways. “Honestly if you know them then you know Virgos quick with an underhanded one.” Another piled on: “If Meg’s going to be a raging unapologetic drunk then she might as well be profiting from it. Can’t believe Beyoncé had to tell her that.” The tequila twist amplified the angst: Bey, whose own ventures like Ivy Park scream self-empowerment, suggesting spirits to a woman who’s therapized her way through grief? “That’s like telling an addict to sell some C and not expecting them to relapse,” a TikToker quipped, the video amassing 1.2 million views.

Megan, for her part, has stayed above the fray, focusing on forward motion. In a May 2025 Vogue profile, she reflected on Chicas as “a celebration of joy, not escape,” teasing Ranch Water recipes and Hottie-exclusive tastings. “Alcohol’s been part of my story, but it’s not the whole book,” she said, crediting Bey’s nudge as “the push I needed to own my narrative.” Yet the silence from Bey—whose Cowboy Carter era championed Black women lifting each other—leaves a void. Is it scheduling oversight, or something simmering? Bey’s camp hasn’t commented, but insiders whisper of “industry fatigue,” where even icons guard their energy. For Meg, who’s navigated label wars, shooting scars, and slut-shaming storms, this feels like another layer of scrutiny on her shine.

The broader ripple? A stark reminder of the tightrope Black women walk in hip-hop: Celebrate your sensuality, but don’t sip too deep; build your bag, but not on your burdens. Meg’s journey—from “Savage” siren to spirits mogul—mirrors countless stories of turning pain into power, yet the shade speculation underscores the scrutiny. As GloRilla rapped in their BET banger, “Wanna be like Megan, but you can’t,” a nod to aspiration amid adversity. Beyoncé, the blueprint, taught us formation; now, fans wonder if she’s fading from Meg’s frame. In a genre built on bars that bare souls, perhaps the real hit is the unspoken one—silence as the sharpest diss. Until the queens clap back, the Hotties hold the line, toasting to truth over tequila. Because in the end, real ones rise, bottle in hand or not.