Wait, what? Me and Eminem?! (An Eminem Fan-Fiction) *Completed*

Chapter Forty Four

Hi everyone(: Sorry about the delay, welcome again to a lovely little chapter, and this one will be in Dri's POV as usual. That's about it because I'm going to be short but there's an author's note at the end like always, so please and thank you!

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It was Friday and I couldn't have been happier. The past week or two had been a combination of numbness, infatuation, and melancholia, the strangest combinations one could imagine. Marshall and Luna had both managed to push me through the dimmest of times, each with kind words and soothing promises, their shadows always trailing behind mine.

I had begun to lose the numbness that had always come with death for me, and alarmingly, a lot faster than I had expected. I smiled easier now, and much more frequently. When I thought about Mom, my envisioning did lower my spirits, but I hopefully assumed she would want me to not dwell on the fact that she was gone too soon. I thought about her daily, but mostly at night. I wondered a lot of things that I knew could never be answered, a pointless and futile effort.

And while I thought about her countless times, she wasn't the only person crowding my thoughts. Marshall was there too, and he had been steadily from the day he saved me. Our strange relationship had pushed us through twists and turns and had forced us to keep our connection from unraveling, and even though a few months ago, I wasn't able to see us together in the future, I had a faint idea what it would be like if we chose to keep our lives linked.

It would be the same. He would still be sober Marshall, touring every now and then, recording daily, producing when he could, doing his best to dedicate his time and efforts to his fans and blow the minds of those who doubted him and looked up to him. No matter how much time he spent on the massive crowds, he would willingly spend double or more for the girls. He would still be in the kitchen helping Whitney with her homework, drinking Red Bull, teasing Hailie and Laney, and playing basketball.

But I couldn't see what I would be doing. That was the unwritten section of the future. My life was uncharted, because most of the events in it had happened so abruptly and unexpectedly. I sometimes questioned whether or not I would even get into college, and be able to do what I'd planned for myself since I was a child. My past was a grim blur and my future was uncertain and most likely unprosperous, but the present was something I was pleased with.

I would miss him when he left to tour. I would miss him so much. But I knew that if I revealed it, he would feel guilty and feel as if it was his priority to comfort and soothe me, which I didn't want. He had better things to do, and I decided to express only my joy for him and keep the inner intimate emotions to myself. We would be okay. I was almost sure of it. He knew I cared deeply for him and I wondered if he knew I loved him. I didn't want to say it out loud to his face; I was still too intimidated. But maybe one of these days, the words would tumble out of my mouth faster than I could control them and he would look at me like he understood with his brilliantly soulful eyes and he'd been waiting for me to confess first. He would kiss me like he'd never kissed me before, and we'd make love, our bodies entwined and limbs locked.

After the last few seconds of lovely fantasy, I snapped myself out of my silly girlish daydreams and decided to do something spontaneous and different for dinner that night, something I had never proposed before. He had done so much I never thought he would have, and I wanted to prove my gratitude. They said the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, so I snatched up my phone, ideas dancing through my head, typed out my message to Marshall, and sent it enthusiastically.

Me: Hey! Wanna come over for dinner? Bring the girls. :)

I figured that by the appropriate time for dinner, I would have thrown together a respectable dinner for the five of us and would have prepared something that would impress everyone, especially me and Marshall, because we both knew how shitty my cooking abilities were.