INFINITE (Eminem Fan Fiction)

Chapter 9: Never Enough

Chapter 9: Never Enough

Instead of going straight up to her room after Marshall dropped her off at the hotel, Riley wandered down the street and found a local record store. It was a cute place, only having a few walls of CD’s. Just as she was about to walk out she saw an album by the door. Above was a sign, labelling it as ‘The Marshall Mathers LP’ by Eminem. Underneath was another album called ‘The Slim Shady LP’. Curiosity struck her, as she reached out and picked up both the albums. Trailing back, to the counter, she paid for them and wandered back to her hotel room.

It was nice to be back into the cool room, away from the LA heat. It’d been so beautiful at Santa Monica Pier. She was so glad she could visit… especially with Marshall. It was just a shame about the media craze. She couldn’t imagine having people fussing over her all the time like that. He couldn’t even go down to the Pier without causing a scene. It must be hard for him.

Sighing, Riley opened the CD player and threw in ‘The Slim Shady LP’ and collapsed onto the soft king sized hotel bed. She could hardly believe the size of it. Back at home, her double was less than half. Grabbing the case as the player stated reading the CD, she examined the back of the album.

As she looked closely, she saw Marshall standing on a jetty, a little girl by her side. She could only guess that could be Hailie. It took her a minute to realize that in the boot of the car in the foreground, was a woman’s legs, looking like the whole scene was a body dump.

The CD started playing and she tuned in, interested to know what his music would be like.

“This is a public service announcement brought to you in part by Slim Shady. The views and events expressed here are totally fucked, and are not necessarily the views of anyone. However, the events and suggestions that appear on this album are not to be taken lightly. Children should not partake in the listening of this album, with laces in their shoes. Slim Shady is not responsible for your actions. Upon purchasing this album, you have agreed not to try this at home. A-anything else?”

Marshall’s spoke, the sound blaring through the CD player, except it sounded different, like he was putting on a voice, “Yeah… don’t do drugs.”

She had to smile, noticing that the skit was called ‘Public Service Announcement’. It was a hilarious and meaningless intro to his music career. The next song that came on she’d heard before. It was ‘My Name Is’ and was a huge hit. She remembered because it played on every radio station in Miami for weeks on end. It came out not long after Mark signed her.

She spent the next two hours listening to the albums. She found herself laughing until her sides hurt, being touched to the point of tears and challenged with simple words. It was amazing how his music had the ability to make her feel so much. This ‘Slim Shady’ certainly had a reckless persona but ‘Marshall Mathers’ seemed more down to earth but still… angry. She had to wonder how much she thought she knew about him. There was so much going on in the albums that she didn’t know about. He’d been through so much….

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Riley launched for the CD player and shut it off, just after the skit in ‘Criminal’. She opened the door and saw Mark standing there, hands on his hips, eyebrows raised to the roof. “Was that Eminem I heard?” She swallowed. What was she going to say? No? Mark invited himself in, pushing past her. She rolled her eyes and shut the door. “Doing some background research?”

Now wasn’t that a good excuse. Better than ‘I just wanted to listen to his voice’. “Yes, I thought it’d be good to get the vibe of the album before the shoot.”

Mark nodded, biting his top lip. “Yeah, so I had a chat with Paul.”

“Good catching up with your boyfriend?” Riley teased, sitting back down on the edge of the bed.

“We had lunch-”

“That’s cute,” She threw in.

Mark assumed a bored expression. “I’d flip you off but my finger’s getting sore.” He paused. “Paul said you did really well today. And he’s impressed. So I wanted to congratulate you. You’re really rising to the occasion.”

She looked down in her lap, unable to bear the compliment. “Ah thanks. You’re such a great manager, I couldn’t’ve done it without you.”

He rolled his eyes, knowing she’d shrugged off his compliment. Mark plonked down on the bed beside her, his weight making her end up the mattress spring up. She steadied herself as he said, “You nervous about the video?”

She had to think for a moment. When they’d rehearsed, Marshall said she’d done great… but she was worried the way she felt about him might interfere with her performance. And that was the last thing she wanted. She definitely didn’t want to disappoint him with a piss-poor performance because she couldn’t get a grip on her roaring ovaries. “A little,” She finally said.

Mark was giving her a skeptical look. “Is there something going on?”

Damn it. He knew her too well. Pulling a small smile, she insisted, “Nothing at all.”

He could tell it was a flat out lie but didn’t push the matter. And thank god for that. He stood up. “One last thing…” She looked up at him, expectantly. “I got Casey to swing by your house, make sure everything was okay. She says you’ve gotten messages from the same number on your machine. She sent the number to your phone so you can call whoever it is back.”

Casey was Mark’s wonderful receptionist back in Miami. She was god sent; miraculously able to set up impossible appointments in a heartbeat. Riley pulled her mobile out her pocket and saw the number on the screen. Frowning, she knew the number all too well. “Thanks, Mark.” She mumbled, barley even hearing him say goodbye and leave.

It was Dick. She couldn’t believe that creep had called her house ten times. It was absurd. Anger flowed through her body, heat practically radiating. She punched the number into her phone and pressed it against her ear and let it ring through.

Dick’s sleazy voice came through the speaker. “Heeeey, I thought you’d never call back.”

“Don’t give yourself the satisfaction, Dick. I called you to ask why the hell you keep calling my house. Has it not occurred to you that I’m not the slightest bit interested?” She found herself up on her feet and pacing, angrily. “You hang around like a dead piece of meat and its getting on my nerves.”

Instead of a submissive reply, like she’d expected, Dick’s voice was just as angry as hers if not more violent. “I’ve done nothing but be nice to you! I’ve brought you flowers and been such a gentleman! I helped you move in! Why do you have to be like this? All I want is you! I even told you I loved you and you shut me down! But not this time, you fucking bitch! Next time I see you I’m going to fuck you so-”

She threw the phone away, not wanting to hear what she knew he was going to say. Instead of it falling to the ground, it hit the opposite wall and smashed into three pieces. “Shit,” She cursed. And it wasn’t even about the phone. Sitting down on the end of the bed, elbows on knees, she buried her face in her hands.

He’d threatened her to rape her... and she wouldn’t put it past the guy to follow his claim up with action. Shit… he knew where she lived…. Knew her number… She was going to have to move. Which meant tearing up her life again to move to another crappy apartment building and deal with another sleaze ball. Maybe this time, at the least, he’d have a less ironic name. And she was just settling into her new place. Uprooting all the time was something she’d always done but never liked. Foster home to foster home was never easy and the instability was chaotic. She’d hoped her adult life would be much more solid. But she was wrong…

She’d been wrong about a lot of things lately. Wrong about keeping it professional with Marshall. Wrong about moving to that apartment building. Wrong for trusting that Dick was just harmless and creepy. Wrong that any of this would work out… Just wrong.