Spend Some Time (Eminem Fanfic)

19. Not So Hard To Get

Once my friends leave, I get myself ready for some relaxing me time for the rest of the night. Come next week, my schedule is gonna be pretty crazy. So much shit to do, but for right now, I'll just enjoy myself.

I take a long relaxing bubble bath, then a shower. Then I put my popcorn in the microwave, pop open a bottle of wine and chill in front of the TV, while wrapped in some super comfy bathrobe.

A few minutes into the movie I'm watching, and a few glasses of wine later, I decide to finally do the unthinkable.

Looking both left and right first, almost as if somebody's going to catch me in the act, even though I'm completely alone in my studio apartment, I make my way to my secret stash, where I'm hiding my brand new The Marshall Mathers LP CD.

So, I know, I'm supposed to be pretending that he doesn't even exist anymore, but I was still kind of curious about his latest CD, so I bought it as soon as it was released. But I still haven't listened to it yet, cause I figured it would be way too painful to hear his voice.

But I'm kind of tipsy right now, so hopefully, being all liquored up would soften the blow somehow.

I pop the CD into my stereo system and press play.

The into plays out first, and it's honestly funny as fuck.

Then, just as the first song, Kill You is about to start, I hear an obnoxious knocking on my door.

I'm not expecting anybody at this moment, so I almost ignore them. Especially considering that whoever this person is, they are rude as hell. Like why the fuck are they knocking instead of ringing the doorbell for one?!

But then the knocking continues, so I roll my eyes once again, pause the CD and march to my door with the intentions of killing somebody. Whoever the hell it was.

I quickly look through the peephole and damn near pass out.

I swing the door open real fast to reveal Marshall standing there, and I'm at a loss for words.

"What... What are you doing here?" I finally manage to squeeze out.

He slowly pulls off his hood, covering his signature bleach-blond hair, and the hat that he's got underneath and looks me dead in the eyes.

"Can I come in, or..."

Against my better judgment, I step aside, letting him in.

As soon as Marshall gets inside, he just makes himself at home right away. Sitting down on my couch and stretching his legs.

"Go ahead, make yourself right at home," I say sarcastically.

He ignores me as he looks around curiously.

"So, that's where you live," he slurs.

I can tell right away that he's real fucked-up on something. Must have been drinking the whole night away, and also, probably popping pills too.

"Yeah," I carefully reply, still tryingto come to terms with the fact that Marshall is sitting inside my apartment. "Not as fancy as you're used to, I'm sure, but this is my place. I'm thinking about moving to somewhere more spacious next month, so..."

"Not as fancy as I'm used to?" He furrows his brows, seemingly offended by my statement. "What the fuck do you think I'm used to? I ain't exactly grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth. Unlike some people."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ain't you tell me before that your daddy was real rich, and that used to live that life, until him and your mom split?"