Melody's P.O.V.
"You don't want me to leave, huh?" I ask playfully, slowly turning around.
"Nah," Marshall simply replies.
I take one look in his eyes, and, all of a sudden, nervousness hits me like a ton of bricks.
"Why?" I stupidly ask.
"Has anybody ever told you that you ask too many damn questions? Come here,"
He grips waist and brings me closer to him.
Somehow, I ended-up spending another day at Em's hotel room. Then that day turned into the next, and the next.
In a really weird way, it now feels almost natural to just spend all of my days by here with him. It's fucking crazy, I know, but...
Fuck...
I'm starting to really like him, I guess, and it's so weird. I mean... everything is just moving too damn fast. Here I go from never dealing with any guy ever to impulsively losing my virginity to somebody I just met and now staying every night at his hotel room.
I'm also starting to wonder if all that bull I've been hearing before about falling for the first guy you sleep with is true because I'm actually... kind if crazy about Marshall, and I don't even know him like that.
I do know though that he's not gonna be here in New York long, he's leaving at the end of the week.
I also know that he's married. Finally found that out recently, and it came as a shock to me at first. Marshall is married to the same chick he's rapped about killing in his songs, apparently.
And I know just how wrong it is, but I simply can't stop myself at this point. Like... I am just too into him.
Plus, Marshall also keeps telling me how he actually hates her now and only married her to give his daughter a family and a life that he never had. That's admirable, but also a little stupid. If you force yourself to he with somebody you don't really wanna be with for your kid, the kid would know that eventually, and not be happy about it at all. Speaking from a personal experience.
But I will never tell him that, it is not my place, and I feel like he would literally bite my head off.
Then again, Marshall could also be lying to me. For all I know, he could be happy and in love with Kim and is just bullshiting me to keep getting in my pants. That's what my friends told me anyway, and they are usually right about those things.
So this could not possibly end well. Not for me.
I must be crazy as hell to stick around.
But what does my crazy ass do though? I stick around.
***
I'm lounging around Marshall's hotel suit, laying lazily in his bed and being nosy. Listening in to him talking on the phone in the other room. Arguing with Kim. Again.
I honestly don't know what he sees in her. It seems like all they do is fight. And he always looks so exhausted and miserable after hanging up the phone with her.
I strain my ears and listen some more. Honestly, at this point, I don't even have to try too hard to be sneaky because Marshall is so loud yelling on that phone that I'm pretty sure even the people staying on other floors can hear him.
Then, once he presumably finally ends his convo with her, I hear a loud bang, like he has thrown something against the wall or something.
I slowly sit up and debate whether or not I should go out there and see what's going on with him.
In a very short time I've known Marshall, I've learned the hard way, since I've been here, that it's best to just leave Marshall the fuck alone whenever he is in one of his moods.
At the same time, I'm stubborn as fuck.
I'm also irrational as fuck, apparently, cause even though I know damn well that Marshall gets real pissed whenever I try to poke my nose in his personal business, and he's totally right to be like that, I still can't help myself and do just that all the time.
My thoughts are then quickly interrupted by Marshall barging in.
Well, I guess, he technically didn't barge in, since it IS his bedroom, in his hotel suit, but y'all know what I mean.
He marches into the room, looking angry as hell, to the point where he honestly almost scares me.
I ain't never in my life seen anybody look that fucking pissed off.
I startle as I sit up in the bed, holding myself up by my elbows.
"Are you okay?" I ask him sheepishly.
He looks at me like I'm out of my damn mind.
"Do I fucking look ok? Take off your clothes."
Now that escalated quickly...
"What?" I ask, dumbfounded.
"Did I fucking stutter? Take off your damn clothes."
He pulls his own t-shirt over his head.
The dominant turn of his voice instantly turns me on... Until I remember that he was just on his phone arguing with his damn wife. Does arguing with her puts him in a mood to fuck or something?! I am not trying to be a reaction to that.
"Who were you just talking on the phone with?" I ask innocently, like I haven't just eavesdropping on the whole conversation.
"None of your business, yo," Marshall grubs my ankle and roughly pulls me to the edge of the bed.
And all I can think about is how good it would feel if I just let him do whatever the wants to me, but I just can't.
I feel... fucking jealous right now. And I know that that's stupid as fuck and irrational for me to feel this way, but I simply can't help myself.
I have no room to want him and want him for myself only, but I do anyway.
"None of my business, but you expect me to just keep opening my legs to you?" I ask with an attitude, pushing him off me just as he tried to push my legs apart and get in between them.
"Well, ain't it why you are here?" He asks cockily, and I am just fucking done.
Some time later, Marshall is in the shower, and I'm still laid on that bed, feeling sore as hell. Is it supposed to be feeling like this? It still kind of hurts whenever he fucks me, but it always kind of feels good at the same time.
Now I act on impulse, as I suddenly get this bright idea that maybe I should join him?
Of all the things I've done for the first time in a course of the last few days, I haven't had shower sex yet.
So I do just that.
"So what now?" I ask him afterwards as we are getting dressed.
"Now we are just gonna chill. The guys are coming soon. We are gonna have some drinks and trash this hotel room," Marshall says with a straight face.
"Seriously? Trash the hotel room?"
"I mean, we never actually plan to do that, but yeah, it always ends up happening."
"Cool. Well, do you want me to leave?"
"Why would I want you to leave?"
"I don't know, cause your friends are coming or whatever. I thought maybe you didn't want me here when they..."
"If that was the case, I would've told you, wouldn't I?" he says, being kind of short with me, but I shrug it off.
"Can I call my girls to come over to then?" I try my luck.
"What the fuck for?"
I keep forgetting that he just doesn't like my friends for whatever reason.
"I don't know, so I don't feel all alone here and like a fish out of water? I don't know your friends like that."
"Yeah well, the whole D12 has already run a train on both of your slut friends. They ain't tryna see them again," Marshall deadpans, and I am very taken aback by that.
"That was kind of harsh!"
"Yeah. And? It's the truth, ain't it? No offense, Mel, but your friends are whores. And my boys already got what they wanted from them, they ain't interested in being around them again."
"Oh, you mean, like you got what you wanted from me? Am I a whore to you too?"
He stares at me for a few seconds, then smirks.
"Nah, of course not."
"Oh really, why not? What's so different between me and my girls? I had sex with you on the first night I met you, they had sex with your friends on the first night they met them. So how is it different?"
"Would you have let the whole D12 fuck you that night?"
"What?! No..."
"Aight then."
"That doesn't mean anything. Look, what is it with you and my friends, what you have against them?" I ask defensively.
"Look, Mel. I don't know your friends and honestly, I don't care to know them. Not after how they just left you the way they did that night at the club."
I can't lie, I think it's very cute how he cares about that so much. I honestly never even expected to ever see him again after we had sex at his after party, let alone give a fuck enough about what happens to me to get me out of that sticky situation I was in, ans now for him to be pissed at Jasmine and LaLa for what he sees as them leaving me. It almost makes me feel like he maybe like me a little bit or something. But that can't be it, right?
"They didn't leave me!" I try to defend my girls again. "They would never have if they knew exactly what was going on."
"And what makes you think that?"
"Cause they are my girls!"
"Shit, Mel. I keep forgetting how fucking young you are sometimes. I guess that explains why your are so damn naive."
"Young?! Boy, you're like four years older than me. That ain't nothing. Talking about I'm young and naive! How old is Kim anyway?"
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret it immediately. It feels like the temperature in the room just dropped about 20 degrees.
Marshall's face goes completely blank like a piece of paper. No emotion whatsoever.
"Yo don't fucking mention Kim."
"Why, it's your wife, ain't it?" I ask, obviously playing with fire.
"Just fucking don't, aint," he sounds so cold when he says this, and so deadly serious.
He actually kind of scares me, and I feel that familiar pang of jealousy.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, talking about your wife."
"Yo just shut the fuck up."
"And if I don't?"
I really want to see how far I can push him, but apparently not far at all.
"You know what, Mel? Get the fuck out."
"What?"
"You heard me, or did I stutter? Your time is up, bitch. Get your shit and get the fuck out of here. And if you open your big mouth to anybody about spending time here, my layer will slap you with a fucking lawsuit."
He turns his back to me and makes it for the mini bar, pouring himself a drink.
I stand there feeling stupid as hell and with angry tears brimming in my eyes. I can't believe he just treated me like dirt like that.
Then I'm reminded that the first night we've ever been together, I had actually ditched him and snuck out of his hotel room for this exact reason. To avoid being treated like this. So I guess I was a dumb bitch for sticking around after all.
I refuse to give him the satisfaction to see me hurt.
I swallow down my tears.
"Fuck you, Marshall! You ain't shit anyway. Your music sucks. You need to start learning how to bleach your damn hair correctly, cause the shit is looking way too yellow. And you a dumbass for staying married to a woman that clearly makes you miserable to the point where even mentioning her makes you so mad you start snapping at everybody."
Marshall smashes the glass he was just holding in his hand on the counter and comes flying in my direction with som much anger in his eyes, that I finally understand that if looks could kill you would be dead saying.
"Fuck you, bitch! Get out!!"
"Go fuck yourself!!" I reply.
Suddenly, and completely on impulse, I actually raise my hand to him and try to slap him in the face. I have no idea where this comes from, but I just can't help it, I guess.
Marshall manages to intercept by quickly grabbing my wrist and he squeezes it hard, to the point where it actually hurts.
"Bitch, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" He barks, staring straight at me hard.
I stare back at him, matching his glare. He must be out of his fucking mind if he thinks that he scares me. Even though he actually kind of does. But I will rather die than let him know that.
"Get the fuck off me!" I snatch my wrist from him and push him in the chest.
He barely budges, so I ended-up walking around him as I make my way back to the bedroom to gather the rest of my things that I had been leaving around his hotel room.
Just as I start grabbing everything and tossing it into my little handbag, I hear the door slam shut behind me.
I spin around on my heels and see Marshall standing casually leaning against it.
"You really are crazy, ain't you?" He muses.
"No more crazier than you are, white boy."
I continue to aggressively shove my stuff into the bag. It barely fits. Which would make sense, I guess. I've made several trips to bring so much stuff here to stay for a few days.
"Come here," he suddenly says. The tone of his voice sounds almost amused like.
"What for?!" I snap.
Marshall shakes his head slowly, smirking to himself.
"I really do got a thing for crazy bitches, don't I?" He muses again to himself.
He then walks over to me, grabs me and pulls me to him. Before I know it, he smashes his lips on mine, pushing his tongue in my mouth, and that catches me off guard, but only for a second. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks that I'm incredibly turned on and have been turned on this entire time that we had been arguing.
Marshall rips my dress off in record time, as I go to grasp at the hem of his t-shirt and pull it off over his head. He unzips his jeans and undoes his belt as he scoops me up and throws me on the bed face first.
That makes me nervous for a moment because doing it from the back still makes me uncomfortable a little bit. But at this moment, I'm not even thinking about it. I position myself on all fours and put my butt up in the air, like he told me to do before. I feel Marshall's hands on my ass, grabbing and kneading it roughly as he shoves himself inside on me, as he simultaneously slaps one of my buttcheeks hard, causing me to cry out and whimper.
"That's right, bitch, that would teach you not to talk back!" He grunts behind me and that pisses me off.
"Fuck you!" I exclaim, pushing him off me and pushing him to lay his back on the bed instead, sitting on top of him, I straddle him.
"Yo what the..." Marshall is starting to say but I cut him off.
"Shut up!!"
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him to me for another angry kiss. His hands land on my hips, trying to position me, but I slap them away.
"Don't touch me, Marshall! I know what the fuck I'm doing now!" I lock his arms over his head.
"So, are you gonna tell me what is it about your two little girlfriends that made you get so defensive?" Marshall asks me afterwards, after I come back from cleaning myself off in the bathroom and we kind of cuddle in the bed.
"What?" I'm literally on cloud 9 right now and not trying to hear that.
"Your friends?" He reminds me. "Why are you so loyal to them when they are obviously not loyal to you?"
"Well, they are! Like I told you before, you don't know them like I do. I was friends with them since middle school. It's long story."
"I've got time," Marshall leans back, lazily lounging on the bed as he pulls me to his chest, and I could just melt in his arms.
"Ok, so I used to be bullied in middle school," I start my story, unsure if he actually does want to hear it. "For being a new kid, I guess. And some other things. See, my daddy was white and very rich, apparently. He used to always go to this upscale bar where my mother used to be a waitress at. That's how they met, I guess. They fell in love, supposedly, and got married. I was born, but somewhere in my teens, something happened to them, and well.... long story short, they didn't want to be together anymore. It was like my father woke up and realized one day that he just didn't want to be married to a black waitress from Brooklyn anymore and have her kid. They did tey to stick it out though, for my sake. But that got old real quick. So my father dumped my mother, married some Ivy League white girl, and me and my mon had to go back to Brooklyn. He paid her child support, but she would spend most of it on liquor. My mother started drinking very heavily after the breakup. You can say she became an alcoholic. That's why I can drink like a fish now too. I've learned it from the best," I wipe the tears that I didn't even realize were streaming from my eyes as I realize that I had strayed completely off track. "My bad," I say. "I got distracted from what I was going to say."
"It's cool, keep going."
"So yeah, anyway, like I was saying, me and my mom had to move back to Brooklyn. She enrolled me into a school there, and the other kids hated me. I was a new kid that came in in the middle of school year, I didn't fit in. I was dressed in rags cause by that point, my mother's drinking got so bad she couldn't even afford any new clothes for me, and my "dad" couldn't care less. I also, apparently, acted funny. I talked "white", I was weird, whatever. Jasmine and LaLa were the only ones that stood up for me. They actually fought some of those other girl for me, and they taught me how to talk back and fight back too. We've been friends ever since. Shit," I laugh in embarrassment. "I could've just told you just that. I really didn't need to tell you my whole life story."
"Nah, you really didn't need to," he smirks.
"Fuck you!" I try to hit him with a pillow, but Marshall grabs it from my hand.
"It's cool though," he says. "So, your father never tried to reach out to you or anything after him and your mom broke up?"
"Nope."
"Damn. That's fucked-up. I'm sorry, Mel, I really am," he seems sincere when he says that, so I smile.
"It's ok. Anyway, I don't really wanna talk about it anymore."
"Aight. So you gonna bleach my hair for me?" Marshall then asks completely out of the blue.
"Huh?" My head snaps towards him.
"Don't think I missed that little diss you threw my way about my hair being too yellow. My roots are starting to grow out. Can you touch them up for me or what? You said you work in a hair salon sometimes."
"I mean, yeah, I guess I could..."
Before I could finish my sentence, we hear a loud ass knock at the door.
"Yo, Slim, open the fuck up!!" Roudy voices below from outside the door.
I guess the rest of D12 is finally here.