Melody's P.O.V.
Still dressed in my red bathing suit, I storm towards where I know Marshall's dressing room is.
His bodyguard stops me real quick though. Like I'm some fucking groupie or something.
I take out my phone and actually dial Marshall's number. I'm nervous for a quick second there that he might not even pick up, but he does.
"Yo?"
"Don't yo me nothing. Can you call off your watch dog, please? I really need to talk to you."
Marshall tells the bodyguard I can go in, so I do.
As soon as I see him, I storm towards him and slap the shit out of him.
"Fuck is your problem, bitch?" He exclaims.
"You are my problem! Don't you ever in your motherfucking life put your hands on me like that again!!"
"Huh? What?!"
"Marshall, what you did on that stage was disrespectful."
"Are you... are you high right now?"
"No. Don't confuse myself with you, or your coke-up wife."
"Well, you sure sound high right now. Either that, or you are out of your goddamn mind. Like... it was part of the performance. Mel, I did that to all of them girls up on that stage. Don't flatter yourself, baby. You ain't special."
I feel tears start to bubble up in my eyes, and I hold them back, knowing that I'll only look like a damn fool that I am. I know it would be very irrational of me to cry right now. Hell, I know that my whole reaction to this thing is probably irrational and I'm blowing this way out of proportion, but I just can't help myself.
Something about how Marshall never wanted to so much as put his arm around me in public, cause he "doesn't do that public display of affection thing" back when we were... we were... whatever the fuck we were doing. But now, all of a sudden, he gonna feel me up on stage in front of all these people?! I don't know, but something about that just cut me real deep and hurt me real bad.
"So, you think that it makes it okay then?!" I scream out. "It makes that ok that you were up there harassing all them other girls up on stage too, and not just me?!"
"Yo, first, lower your goddamn voice. Second, Mel, are you hearing yourself right now?! I ain't harass anybody, them girls didn't seem to mind. You literally are the only one with the damn problem."
"Oh, I guess it makes it alright then. I get it."
I take a deep breath.
"You know what, Marshall? I'm done with this whole thing. I'm out of here. One thing I promise you though is this. Touch me again, and I'll fucking kill you."
I start walking away from him.
"Oh, you'll kill me, huh?" He pipes up behind my back. He sounds amused by my words, and I fucking hate it. "Ok, so what you gonna do now?"
Before I know it, he grabs me from behind, and his hands start roaming all over my body. Just like he had done on stage, only worse.
"What are you gonna do, Mel?" He asks me, challenging me.
And, fuck my life, but my body responds to him instantly. I don't want to feel it, but there's that ever so familiar electric current going through me like lightning. I can't help the fact that I want him. And I am now very much so aware of the fact that I barely even have any clothes on me, and that would give him a very easy access to me. And it would be so easy to just let him have it. Cause that's what I want too.
But I sure as hell will not give in to him. Not again.
"Marshall, just stop, please!" I exclaim, and this time, I let the tears to actually fall.
And to my surprise, he lets me go immediately and backs off.
I cover my face with my hands, as I slowly slide down to the ground and actually cry.
The fuck is wrong with me? I wasn't supposed to show him any emotion, cause he sure as hell never shows me any.
"Mel, I..." Marshall awkwardly says behind me. "My bad. I'm sorry, ok? Fuck!! You know that I didn't mean to..."
He reaches for me to help me on my feet, but I slap his hands away.
"Didn't I say don't touch me?!"
"I... I ain't touching you in that kind of way, aight? I was just trying to..."
"Well, I don't need you to try anything with me!!"
I finally get back on my feet, and we stand in silence for a while. My back still turned to him.
"Fuck, Mel," I hear him sign down his nose, as I simultaneously feel him move towards me, but stop himself. "It's just that I fucking missed you so much, do you know that? Seeing you out there, I literally almost forgot the words to my own goddamn song. You could've at least, I don't know, gave me a heads up. Told me you was gonna be in the show with me or something."
"Oh, so it's my fault now?"
"What? Yo, shut the fuck up, I ain't say that."
"Why would I warn you, Marshall? I honestly didn't think you would give two fucks about seeing me again."
"You ain't serious, right?"
"Oh, but I am. The way you treated me last time we spoke..."
"The way I treated you?! You was the one that cussed me the fuck out when I tried calling you!" He exclaims.
He grabs me by the shoulders and turns me around, forcing me to look at him.
"I fucking missed you, Mel," he repeats. "Why do you think I even turned up at your place that day?"
"Cause you were drunk, high, and horny."
"No, Mel, it wasn't that at all."
"No? Oh, so that's why you just disappeared the next day, like you regretted even being around me and sticking your dick in me?!"
He doesn't have anything to say to that, and I slowly nod.
"Yeah, that's what I thought." I try to start turning away from him again, but he pulls me back.
"Goddamnit, Mel. You should fucking know me by now. You've been around me long enough. You know that the way I act, I could be an asshole sometimes, but it's just me dealing with some of the shit that goes on in my head. But I ain't never meant to hurt you."
"Like fucking hell you haven't."
"Nah, look at me," he lifts my chin with his hand. "I haven't."
I look into his eyes, and I just can't fight it.
And I feel so frustrated with myself for it. More tears fall from my eyes, and Marshall frowns.
"Aw common now, you ain't seriously crying on me right now. Fuck!! I know I'm a dick, but shit, what can I do to make it better?"
He looks so damn hopeless when he says it that it actually cracks me up a little bit. Just like any other man, he is completely clueless on what to do with a crying woman. He looks completely perplexed and almost pitiful in this moment.
I grin slightly and slowly shake my head side to side.
"Oh, is that a fucking smile I saw just now?" Marshall asks me hopefully as he tentatively brushes a strand of my hair out of my face.
I take a small step back from him.
"I guess I better go, Marshall. I... I guess I way overreacted. I really didn't need to be barging in on you like that, ready to fight you."
I actually am starting to feel straight up embarrassed now.
"Nah, stay," Marshall says, pulling me back to him. "Let's catch up or something."
"Marshall," I sign.
He throws both of his hands up.
"I'll keep my hands to myself, I promise."
"Yeah, I've heard that before," I roll my eyes at him.
"Nah, but I mean it this time. See, when I popped-up at your crib that night, I swear to God, Mel, all I wanted to do was just talk to you. Then one thing just led to another and..."
I start to agree at first, but then I look down at myself, realizing once again that I'm literally stood in front of him half ass naked.
"I just don't think it's a good idea for us to be around each other again."
"Why's that? Look, Mel, stop overthinking it. I know we haven't parted at the best of terms last time we saw each other, and I already told you, that was my bad. It ain't gonna be like that this time though. You know what, come back to Detroit with me," he suddenly says. "Stay with me for a few days."
"What, come again?! Marshall, I can't do that!"
"And why not?"
"What do you mean, why not?! See, you always do this shit to me! Always expect me to just stop whatever it is I'm doing and do with you whenever, just cause you suddenly decided you wanted me around all of a sudden. Where am I even gonna stay there? What, I'm gonna crash on your and Kim's couch at y'all house? So what are you gonna do, put me up in some cheap motel like a damn hooker or something?!" I exclaim.
I actually start panicking and hyper ventilating at the thought.
"Kim is not at the house with me right now, Mel, if you must know. We are separated."
"Y'all are?"
"Yeah. I just couldn't deal with her shit anymore, and I think even she was starting to get sick and tired of all of the fighting by this point, so we both decided it would be better if she just left. She was kind of bitching about it at first, but I paid for her to stay at a real nice place, so she shut the fuck up real quick. So yeah, you could actually stay at my house. I wouldn't dream to put you in no damn cheap motel. Like fuck, Mel, why would you even say that?"
"What about... what about your daughters?"
"Well, the both of them are with Kim right now. We agreed to split their time between us. We alternate weeks that each one of us gets to keep them. And right now, it's actually Kim's week, so I don't see why you couldn't come and stay with me right there at the house."
"So are you... are you and Kim gonna get a divorce?" I ask before I could even stop myself, and I hate myself for how hopeful I sound.
Not to mention, that apparently it was too soon to ask, because Marshall immediately shuts down.
His face gets all drained of emotion, and he squints his eyes at me, in that all too familiar way.
"Yo, don't fucking ask me that!" He snaps. "You know what your problem is, Mel? You never know when to shut the fuck up. What's it to you if I end-up divorcing the bitch or not?"
"Oh, nothing at all!" I laugh sarcastically. "Only like the fact that you keep sending me all these mixed signals, one minute you act like you all into me, next minute you act like you don't give a fuck. Like seriously, Marshall, do you really not see why I would care if you are divorcing Kim or not?"
"Why, what are you trying to be, my new wife?"
I feel myself start to get frustrated again. Like, so fucking frustrated I can literally taste the bitter feeling in my mouth.
I push him in his chest.
Then I push him again, then start walking.
Just as I reach the door, it opens.
And there stands Marshall's, manager, Paul Rosenberg.
Great. The already shitty situation just got shittier.
Paul's eyes widen as they dart between myself and Marshall, and he looks about as frustrated as I feel right now. I can just see the wheels turning in his head. He knows me and Marshall means drama, and more potential shit storms for him to have to solve in the future. And he's not liking it one bit.
"Melody," he grits me through clenched teeth.
"Paul," I smile at him sweetly, giving him the fakest sweet smile I could master. Never did care for the man much. He always seemed like a jerk to me. "How have you been?"
"Great. And how are you?" He asks me out of politeness, then immediately diverts his attention back to his client.
"Marshall, your flight is ready. Are you ready to leave?"
"Give me a minute, Paul, would you?"
Paul looks like he's quite literally about to have a heart attack, as I'm sure he already knows what's coming.
Or does he?
Cause I honestly feel like it's my cue to leave.
"See ya, Marshall. Paul."
I walk out of the door.
"Mel, fucking wait!" Marshall follows behind me and grabs my arm.
"Let go of me!"
"Marshall, let her go."
"Yo, Paul, shut the fuck up! Mel, stop being a fucking bitch!"
"Oh, I'm being a bitch now?"
"You really are. Aight, fucking look. You and I both know, that everything you've said about me is true. And that's just how I operate. I'm a piece of shit, I'm an asshole, whatever. And I ain't likely to change. Not any time soon anyway. But you knew all of that about me pretty soon after meeting me, and you still stuck around. And I've gotten so used to you sticking around that I fucking need you, girl. So I can't let you go."
I'm almost fuming at this point. The audacity!!
"So, what you are saying is that you are a fucking jerk, and I should just accept that, because you can't let me go," I mock. "Wow, really, Marshall? I'm supposed to just accept you being a fucking jerk and bend over backwards, all because you are what, the great Eminem? You know what, fame is really getting to your head now. When I first met you, you already had issues, but you weren't this bad. Now you're just... I don't even know! I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm starting to see Kim's side of things."
"What the... bitch, you ain't fucking serious right now!"
"Marshall!!" Paul exclaims. "You two can't do this right here out in the open like that! You don't know who's watching," he drags the both of us back in the dressing room. "Shut the hell up, the both of you, before you both end-up in the gossip magazines tomorrow, with a whole bunch of shit for me to clean up. Fuck, where is Proof when you need him! Seems like he's the only one that can control you, Marshall! Goddamnit, you know what? I don't even care anymore. Bring Melody with you, don't bring her, whatever it is, but you two need to decide right now. Cause the plane's about to leave."
Marshall turns to me once again.
"Mel, I really want you to come with me. Please, just for a few days? So we could figure this shit out."
I must be out of my goddamn mind.
"Fine!!" I roll my eyes. "But I need to run back to my dressing room and pack, and put some clothes on. I obviously can't board no plane looking like this."