Eminem Imagines

Haunted House *Part One*

{Enjoy this Halloween themed imagine☺️. It's in two parts}

"Ugh, my pores are freakin' huge!" Your best friend Kaia says to her reflection in the light tinged mirror. You roll your heavily darkened eyes at her. Kaia's been on your most gorgeous list since you met in third grade on the soccer team.

"Whatever. At least you don't have like, a billion freckles." Your other best friend, AmberJade, frets. You met her back in sixth grade during a track meet. You sling your arms around your friends as you look at each other in the mirror.

"Y'all are beautiful, regardless!" You say as they smile shortly, taking each other in.

AmberJade's dressed up in baggy looking navy sweatpants that outlined her voluptuous bottom half.  Her bright orange hair braced back by the navy blue backwards cap. Her mocha eyes sparkled under the lights as her tightly fitting white tank top outlined her small breasts. Kaia was wearing a pair of crazy tall Stilettos and a skin tight fitting, black strapless that stopped shortly at her thick legs. She wore a bandana around her naturally blonde hair that sprung around her  shoulders. It looked striking against her rich ebony skin tone. You're in the center, dressed in a hot pink neon dress that stopped at your lower thighs, hair teased to new heights. Even though the eighties were twenty years ago, you could have go as anything but the nineties, which ended a year ago.

"Ready, Ambs?" Kaia asks.

"Yup. Ready, ______?" She asks you.

"Mhm? Ky?" You ask and she nods firmly.

She closes up her upscale apartment as Amber and you adjust and inspect for anything out of costume or unappealing to look at. The lights go out as Kaia leads all of you to the door as you walk out of the door. The air was chilly and starry as the moon beamed down on you.

AmberJade, Kaia and you all pack into Kaia's black 1999 Toyota Camry. She sits down and pushes her purse and starts it up. Amber is in the back and you in the front. The last song that was playing which happened to be "This Iz" by Conflict turns on. Ambs left her CD in when she borrowed Kaia's car last night.

"Yes! I love this song!" AmberJade cheers. You giggle as you realize Kaia, who's father worked with an up and coming rapper disliked rap music and AmberJade who came straight off the boat from Ireland when you met her, is the hip hop head.

"Ugh." Kaia says as we pull onto the road and we laugh together. AmberJade seems to know the whole song and you guys chant her on as she goes on. We end up turning it to the radio, which happened to have last year's biggest hit, "No Scrubs" by TLC.

You guys all sing along to the catchy, empowering lyrics as you ride off to the Halloween party being held by a coworker named Leena.

Then, "Real Slim Shady" by Eminem comes on as AmberJade squeals. She was first in line to buy Marshall Mathers LP when it came out earlier in the year. She thought he was the best rapper ever, right behind Nas. Kaia groans as she begins to whole heartedly rap along. You also like Eminem and you think he's the tiniest bit attractive which was vastly different from AmberJade, who was convinced she would be marrying him in a matter of years.

"Isn't he supposed to be at this party we're going to?" You inquire as the song fades out into the next one. Kaia nods as you all pull up to a massive, car riddled and light flashing mansion. You guys park and enter just as music begins to get louder. You leave your friends and clutch your phone after making a promise to call them when it was time to go. You see Leena, dressed up as a sexy Alice from Alice in Wonderland. You say hello and wish her thanks for the invitation as you realize how beautiful her Pakistani skin looked with the cerulean. You get jealous but it fades.

You walk in further and the sight of thousands of people dancing and drinking,  scent of alcohol, sweat and the sound of an angry rapper going in on the microphone in the back fills your senses. You get excited. You take a couple shots but you still keep in tact. Then you see him.

Eminem.

His bright blue eyes, blonde hair and baggy offensively marked clothing make him stand out from the crowd. You realize he's just as drunk as you when a techno song comes on. You cannot resist the urges to dance and you lead him with you. His hand slips farther than you want it to as the song breaks down to the chorus. You remove it as he pushes out an apology.

You have some small talk and you find out his name is Marshall. And he just went on. Now you guys are off the floor and taking occasional sips from a new red solo cup.

Then, the lights cut out. Pitch black darkness.