Remember Me (Sequel To Tragic Endings)

25. Who's Eminem?

Immediately noticing his displeasure of me calling him by his name instead of, I don't know, father, dad, or something along those lines, but I honestly don't feel comfortable enough around him to do that just yet. Like... I know that he is my father simply because he's told me that that's who he is to me, but I don't like... feel it yet. He feels like a stranger to me.

"Yes, Princess?" He finally grumbles.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at him. He's been calling me by that nickname ever since I woke up at the hospital, and I'm not sure I like it. It just... irritates me for some reason, and I'm not sure if the old Aisha was okay with it or not, maybe it was like a normal father/daughter thing for them, him calling her that, but I just honestly hate it.

"Um..." I hesitate, struggling for words. "Why are all these... reporters outside? I mean, I understand I was attacked and all, but I'm just a regular person?"

"You are not though, Princess. And neither am I."

"What? I don't understand..."

"Aisha, you are a very big deal," my father explains patiently to me. "You are actually quite famous, so of course something crazy like that happening to you is going to be very interesting for the public to hear about."

"Famous for what, Suge? What do I do?" I ask curiously now. I had no idea...

He looks at me hard and frowns. I can tell that he is very unhappy about this.

"Well, you sing, pumpkin. And you have also started acting in movies lately," he finally proceeds.

Sing?! What, like, in front of people?!

I can't imagine doing that, an anxious feeling is eating me up alive just at the mere thought. I can't imagine possibly being in the spotlight like that.

"What do you do?" I then ask Suge Knight. A man that calls himself my father.

He smirks, lightning his cigar.

"I used to be a music producer," he states proudly.

"Who's Eminem?" I then ask him and his smile immediately evaporates from his face, and the whole temperature inside of the limo feels sudden freezing cold.

"How do you... know about him? Do you remember him?" My father then asks me back, sternly, the tone of his voice, his whole demeanor so different from how it was before.

"Um... I have no idea who that is, daddy?" I speak rapidly, not even realizing that I'm suddenly referring to him as my dad, even though I was just telling myself I wasn't comfortable with that, and I'm still not. I'm just... I don't even know, want to appease him right now, seeing that he's obviously angry with me for some reason. "Those um... reporters putsodr, they kept mentioning somebody called Eminem out there," I state in a shaky voice while he continues to stare at me, studying my face.

Eventually, he sighs and pulls away from me, releasing the tight grip he just had on my arm.

"Eminem is a bad man, baby girl," he grumbles. "And you shouldn't worry yourself with the likes of him."

And that's all the answers I'm going to get from him, apparently.

The limo then apparently arrives to it's destination, which is an airport. My father gets out and I follow him. We board a private jet and eventually land somewhere in LA.

My father lives in a huge mansion. None of it is familiar to me, but I'm told I used to live here with him before.

How'd I end up in New York on the night I was... attacked?