Ain't Nobody Like You

Chapter Four

"I said I would." I say, confused.

"Yeah but in his experience, people say a lot of things they don't mean or make promises they don't keep, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah. I know exactly what you mean." At least we have something in common there. I wonder who broke his trust?

The music cuts off abruptly and a man starts talking on the mic, amping up the crowd as he introduces Eminem. I look to the stage and there's many people up there; sitting, standing, walking around. It's a pretty hectic set up. But then I see Marshall, walking across stage. 

He yells into the mic, "L.A!!!! Where the fuck you at?" and the crowd cheers as he begins his set by rapping, "These are the results of a thousand electric volts. A neck with bolts. Nurse we're losing him, check the pulse!"

The first song is great. Like before, his lyrics make me laugh and his rhymes and wordplay are clever as he tells a story. I've never heard someone like him before. I watch him with a huge smile that never once leaves my face. He has so much energy while rapping, it's a great sight. I bob my head along to the beat, noticing the crowd throwing their hands up. People are always so carefree at concerts, enjoying themselves and the music. It's nice to be one of them again, instead of the one on stage-not that I don't love that. They're just two completely different experiences. I yell along with them as Marshall ends his first song.

"Our boy is good right?" Proof yells down to me, so I can hear him over the noise. Our boy? I brush it off.

"Yeah, he's amazing! He's killin' it!" I yell back.

My attention is immediately brought back to the stage when I hear, "Hi! My name is what, my name who, my name is chick-a-chick-a Slim Shady!" Everyone in the crowd seems familiar with the lyrics already, rapping along and moving their hands to the music. The sound is incredible, an obvious Dre beat mixed with a catchy hook written by Marshall. He continues, "...Hi kids! Do you like violence? Wanna see me stick Nine inch Nails, through each one of my eyelids?..." By the end of the song, I have the chorus memorized and I'm able to rap with him.

His next few songs are just as great. He has such an incredible raw sound and is clearly a talented artist. I noticed he's been performing with another talented rapper, and I wonder who it is. I start to ask Proof when Marshall catches my eye on the side of the stage, pouring his water bottle over his head and face.

My eyes linger on him and I'm caught up in the sight of him. He's breathing heavily, a mix of sweat and water covers his upper body and face as he saunters across the stage. His white t-shirt clings to his body where it got soaked. When he speaks to the crowd, he is out of breath from running around and yelling into the mic during all his songs. 

Oh no, I think. There's no doubt about it. I'm insanely attracted to this man. This wasn't suppose to happen.

As Marshall continues to catch his breath before his next song he looks out into the crowd, searching his eyes for something till they land on me. Music starts playing again, indicating a new song is about to start, so I cup my hands around my mouth and yell as loud as I can. I can see Marshall smirking at me before he starts rapping about not giving a fuck.

Everything about him is leaving me breathless right now, he looks so damn sexy and he's looking right at me. I can't take my eyes off of him either.

"Like what you see?" Proof laughs.

I turn to him, caught, "I have no clue what you're talking about."

"I'm talkin' 'bout you droolin' all over my feet lookin' at my man up there." he teases.

I let out a nervous laugh and comb my fingers through my hair, "I was not. We're...friends. Nothing more."