Ole Foolish Pride Girl (Eminem Fanfic)

2. We Need To Talk

Nikki's P.O.V.

2003

I stand at the doorway for a second, staring into a pair of blue eyes that I haven't seen in years.

How long has it been now exactly?

Like... 14 years to be exact?

Wow, this really is crazy?

Marshalls has changed a lot.

Looks wise anyway.

He is no longer this scrawny brown haired little white boy. He is buff as hell now, all tatted up and his hair is bleached. He still likes him some baggy ass clothes though, and he's even wearing a durag now, took that whole white hip-hop kid thing a little too far now, has he?

I've seen him on TV occasionally, of course, over the years that is, ever since he became this whole Eminem/Slim Shady persona, and I won't even deny it, at first, I was stunned that he actually did make it.

I mean, he used to always have a talent for rap, and even more importantly so, he's always had passion for it. And I remember trying to be as supportive as I could of him, especially when Kim wouldn't.

But at the end of the day, we were just kids back then, and we were way too idealistic, thinking that anything is possible.

Having grown older though, life had kicked me and and had kicked me hard, teaching me that some dreams are simply not meant to come true, hell, mine never did, so I guess, at some point I stopped believing Marshall's would either.

And yet, look at him now...

He never gave up, I guess, and that's a good thing.

"Hi, Marshall," I smile, refusing right off the bat to call him by his stage name, God knows, back when I had first met him, he wasn't going by that then, not exactly anyway...

MC M&M... Good old times, huh...

I watch Marshall swallow hard then as he uncomfortably shifts in place, forcing me to hold back a giggle.

What do you know, I STILL make this boy nervous even to this day, now isn't that truly something?

"Hi Nikki," he says grudgingly. "How has life been treating you?" He asks through a clenched jaw then, looking like he would literally be anywhere but here right now.

I can't help but wanting to play with him then.

"Oh, you know, been trying to look for a rich man so I could take all his money," I reply, dead ass serious.

I watch Marshall turn red then, like literally his whole face turns red, in a mixture of both anger and embarrassment.

Nope, I see that he haven't changed at all.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath. "Yo look Nikki, I..." He starts to say, only to be cut off by his manager, Paul Rosenberg, the same man who has contacted me and practically begged me to allow him to fly me out from LA to Detroit for this.

"Uh... let's be nice you two," Paul says as he chuckles lightly, failing to hide his nerves as well. I guess a small part of me now regrets asking me to come, huh? "And let's save all of the apologies and making up for that TV interview in a few weeks now shall we? So that it would sound more genuine on air?"

"Yeah sure," I smile sweetly, showing all of my perfectly straight teeth to both him and Marshall who continues to stand in front of me like a stature.

Just then, a bunch of rowdy dudes burst inside the room, all immediately crowding me.