The year is currently 2003 and The Source Magazine has just unveiled an Eminem racist tape, a song where he can clearly be heard rapping disrespectfully about black women.
Eminem goes on national TV and apologizes, stating that the song in question...
So, I have decided to write another chapter since I'll be very busy over the weekend and don't know if I'll get a change to upload or not. Anyways, this is a much shorter one...
Marshall's P.O.V.
"Marshall, get in my office. NOW!!" Paul barks at me as me and the fellas are all chilling at the LA studio with some groupies.
I've got like three of them bitches currently on me to help me lick my Nikki inflicted wounds. I still can't believe that crazy fucking bitch did what she did. I ain't never had a female kick me out after sex before.
Now, with Paul peaking his head in and yelling at me like he's a fucking school principal or some shit and I'm one of the students up for the after school detention, all of the boys start laughing like crazy at me.
Even Dre looks up from the soundboard and chuckles.
"Yo, fuck you do this time, dawg?" He asks me sarcastically as I just flip him and the rest of the guys the bird and shake the groupies off of me, heading towards Paul's office. I am kinda wondering what exactly is it Paul wanna bitch at me at this time around.
As soon as I plop down on the chair in front of his desk in his office, Paul promptly throws a magazine issue on top of the table.
I check out the cover and grimace, dragging one of my hands down my face.
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IS THE BEST RAPPER ALIVE A RACIST?
It says right underneath my picture.
Fucking great...
Paul continues to look at me all disapproving like and I frown.
"Yo, fuck you looking at me like that for when it's literally all your fault, Paul," I say angrily at him. "I told you that whole interview with Nikki was a dumb ass idea. And then you went and said that dumb shit about her on the plane, no wonder she put both of us on fucking blast during the fucking interview."
"Well Marshall, we can't let her get away with this," Paul counters, rubbing his balding head. "You do know that I've made her sigh a contract before hiring her for the whole publicity stunt thing with you?"
"Yo, what contract?" I frown again, scratching the bridge of my nose.
"Kind of like an NDA. Nikki was not to say anything damaging to your reputation during the 106 & Park interview, Marshall, and she obviously violated that so I'm going to hit her with a lawsuit now."
Oh fuck me...
"Nah, Paul, I don't want you to do that shit," I sigh.
"Marshall, it's not even a fucking option!" My manager says sternly to me then as I squint my eyes at him.
"Say what?" I ask calmly. "Yo, did you fucking forget that you work for me and not the other way around? I say I don't want the damn girl sued for this, so we ain't suing her."
