Okay guys, you all have been begging for this chapter so let's not waste any time but remember to read the author's note at the end!(: And just as a reminder, this chapter picks up right where the last one left off, so I recommend going back and reading the last little tid-bit to refresh your memory. c:
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"This isn't true," I gasped after collecting my thoughts, lungs burning. My saliva was thickening and I legitimately jumped out of bed and onto my feet, shoving the stray locks of tangled hair out of my face.
"Is it?" he mumbled, too shamed to even look me directly in the eyes, and my knees buckled. I struggled to remain standing and he faced away from me and the paper, unable to bring his eyes to the printed lies and falsely taken picture. From his position at the foot of the bed, he began pacing back and forth, but away from me, quivering fingers pressing down onto his temples as they ran across his scalp.
His hands were trembling, and his facial expression was unreadable as I watched him murmur crazily to himself. "Fuck," he cursed bitterly. "Fuck. I knew it was too good to be true. I knew it. I knew it wouldn't last. Fuck. Shit." He ruffled his hair absently, steps heavy with heartache. He would turn to me occasionally and stare me down with pitiful eyes, but wouldn't manage to vocalize anything.
"Marshall," I attempted to soothe repeatedly, but my voice cracked every time I went to speak. "Marshall, calm down."
"I can't calm down," he protested raggedly, more distressed than enraged, and even though he would have denied it, it seemed as if he was crumbling brick by brick. "I just can't."
The room was dully silent, and what I began to do was the weakest thing I could have possibly done at that moment. I tore at my lip, snapping at myself for being so self-centered in such a sensitive situation, but the tears begged to be released from my eyes and the stinging sensation was so intense it felt as if I was going blind. And so, emotions a jumbled mess, I lowered my head. A single lone tear trickled down my cheek, and I was disgusted by myself.
"Why did you do it?" Interested, he softly piped up, arms rippling with menacing power, but I knew that he wouldn't and couldn't bear to lay a single finger on me. What happened last time wouldn't be the scenario this time, and it frightened me because of how unreadable everything was.
"Do what?"
"Go with...with h-him."
"I didn't, Marshall," I protested, remembering every single feeling I'd experienced with him. The warmth of his touch blazed against my solitary skin, and I longed for any contact with him. I was desperate, and I'd never been like this at all before.
"I trusted you," he confessed. "More than anyone in a while...fuck. I'm so fucking stupid. Just...leave." Shoulders sagging, he faced the open balcony, but I couldn't. My eyes were locked on him.
"Please. Please, please let me explain."
"There's nothing to explain."
"Marshall." My knees were knocking together. "Please look at me. I need to explain. Please."
I feared for a split second he would refuse, but my words got the best of him and he time-takingly twisted his body to face me. His mouth was crumpled as he tore at his bottom lip from the inside with his teeth. Eyes secured on mine, he expectantly awaited.
"Marshall." I began by speaking his name, letting the familiarity of it wash over my tongue and between my lips, terrified I would never be able to utter it again. "I would never hurt you. I know you. I've seen you and I've been with you." My speech was slow, and I did all I could to match his steady gaze intently, although I was light-headed from all the early morning exhilaration. "I...I care about you so much." Leaning against the closest wall, I continued, passion grasping my speech and taking it over.
"I would never hurt you. And I know people say that shit all the time, and they break their promises, but I've been here for you and you've been here for me. Just like I trust you not to go around with others, you do the same for me. Because no matter how fucking hard I look, I'll never find someone like you. Because you saved my life." I was praying mentally for strength. "You...keep me going through the day. And Dev is a friend. He will always be just a friend. He can't be anything more to me."
"You look like more than 'just friends' in the picture," he remarked coldly. It felt as if we were slipping right through my fingers and after finding perfection, I wasn't about to let it leave so easily.
"You have to trust me," I implored. "Dev is only a friend. I swear to God to you."
"Why should I believe you?" he demanded calmly but protectively.
"Because I would rather hurt myself than hurt you. I just met up with Dev because I wanted my friend back." My legs refused bluntly to hold me up anymore, and back gliding against the wall, I sank down until my bottom skimmed the ground, knees hiding my face. My eyes were as if they had been ignited and blood rushed to my head, making me woozy and disheartened.
"I just want to be with you. It's hard for us because we're so different. You're a celebrity, I'm not. You're amazing...I'm not. I want to be everything you deserve. And the paparazzi is making this so hard." My voice was muffled from behind my limbs, but I coiled my muscles and clung onto myself.
The silence was almost painful. It was suffocating the two of us and I was too listless to look up and firmly hold Marshall's eyes with my own, so my head stayed bowed, tension reverberating off our bodies. I knew not what else to say. Countless celebrity loves, couples, and even marriages had been wrecked by multiple false accounts from the paparazzi, and what I would do if that was the case for us, I didn't know. A gap had been created between us emotionally, and I would have sacrificed anything to have it gone.
I felt a light brush on my arm, and my head snapped up tentatively. Marshall was crouched, face unreadable, but quite obviously distraught.
"Get up," was all he said.
I did as was ordered, and hid my face from him, embarrassed at my untimely tears.
"Don't cry," he requested under his breath. Then came a halt as he thought out his choice of words. "Why should I believe you? I've been fucked over so many times, I've been beat black and blue emotionally, and why should I think you're faithful to me?"
I couldn't stand there and let him convince himself our relationship was a lie. My hand shot out audaciously and grabbed his, our fingers lacing together. Heart steady throbbing, I lifted my head and viewed him as he glanced down, then took another glimpse and examined how flawlessly our bodies flowed within one another.
"Because. Because now that I've had you, I can't see myself without you. And this might sound weak as hell, but I could never do that to you. I've seen how you've been hurt. I know you're trying to change some parts of yourself for the better, for me. And I could just never...never be that selfish in a relationship."
"I don't trust him. I don't want him to touch you," he muttered.
"Do you trust me?"
He was mute. Ponderously, his eyes locked onto mine, and it was like he had reached into me and stroked my soul. Heart shaking between my rising and falling lungs, I awaited his answer, expecting the worst but hoping ferverently for the best.
"Should I?" he debated in the same undertone we were both communicating in.
"I can't make you trust me," I admitted mournfully. And fearing the worst had come to reality, my fingers went limp and began to snake out of his. But abruptly, he grasped them and kept us together, connected through the simple link of our hands.
"I thought you were different." He paused, selecting his statement cautiously. "And I still do. But I...I just don't want to put myself out there again. Every single fucking time I start falling, there's no one ever there to catch me."
Feebly, I piped up. "I would catch you."
"You wouldn't be able to handle half the shit I have to deal with. I just want to fall and break apart sometimes. At least it lets me know I can still feel emotions and shit."
"If you broke apart...I would put you back together."
"See," he murmured, thumb caressing the curve of my hand. "No one's ever taken time to do that. They just think...oh, it's Eminem, he has money, he's good at what he does, he's hot, he's rich, he's famous. I can never trust them."
"Them?"
"I want to trust you," he explained. "I do."
"But you don't? Do you really believe what you're seeing?"
"I don't know."
"Dev couldn't give me half the things you've given me."
"Like what?"
"Like attention. Stability. Excitement. New things. And the most important to me is the closest thing I've felt to a connection...and love. That's what matters to me. Not your popularity or your looks or your money. And you know that, deep down."
Eyes clouded over, his fingers dropped from mine. He randomly resumed his pacing pattern, then after an amount of seconds, he returned to his spot directly in front of me.
"Adrienne. Don't let me make a decision I'm going to regret." His entire body was facing downward with melancholia, and staring at him, he didn't seem to be the same over-joyed man who'd teasingly dared me to down Red Bull last night or relaxed at my side on the couch while watching a Disney movie. He was in misery.
"I won't." Solemn, I gazed at him with a fierce passion, he observing right back. A quietness fell over us, and my desire for him grew rapidly. It seemed like it had been heavy centuries when he spoke, leading my hand by one of my fingers to be joined to his.
"Okay. But you still wanna explain it to me?"
I could barely comprehend what he was saying due to the volume of his voice, but he was tired of being so distrusting after all these years he'd suffered in solitude.
"Yeah." And I told him the entire uncut story, sparing him next to no details, and when I had finished, his eyes bored into mine, beseeching for the truth and nothing but it silently. When it appeared that he had understood the issue, he lowered his head, and nodded it slightly.
"Okay," he agreed, and then his arms reached out to me, suspending me to him, and my body instinctively compressed against his. The motion was sudden and it did startle him; I knew by the way he involuntarily jolted back, but then carefully, so as not to feel vulnerable, he pressed back, gently.
When he released me, he secured me firmly by my shoulders and twisted his lips, sighing. "Listen, Adrienne."
"Yes?"
"This...this isn't going to be easy. I see where you're coming from now, and I'm sorry for doubting you...but I can't help it. It's just another flaw I have. But I know that if we want to make this work and forget, we have to look past all the shit that's going to get thrown at us, and we have to trust each other. This hasn't really happened to me before...so I'm not sure how to react..."
"It's okay. I would have probably reacted the same way," I reasoned.
"No, but I don't ever want to see you cry. Especially if you're crying because of me. Celebrity relationships are hard, you're right. That's why you don't see that many celebrity-normal person relationships; because it's a relationship that's stressful for both sides and it causes a lot of gossip. But honestly...I'm willing to make this work if you are. I haven't felt like this in a while, and my last relationship was full of shit. I'm just nervous about being cheated on again because that's like, all I've known. You know?"
I nodded, and he took in breath, wanting to continue his speech of sorts.
"It's mostly not that I don't trust you. I mean, it is that too, but I have trust issues, I'll even admit it, so don't get offended or nothing. It's that I don't trust the way people lose control of themselves when they meet someone they think is ideal. You just can't control yourself even though you want to, and then when the relationship goes downhill, you feel broken. And up 'til now, we haven't really had anything like this that would really test my trust issues or our relationship. And I'm sorry for putting you through this. I think I was moving too fast, like in my head trust-wise. I need to slow down before I get too connected."
"You don't want to get connected?" I repeated, baffled and a little wounded.
"No, no. It's that...in my mind, I thought there was no way our relationship could go wrong. I fell for you when I brought you your shoes and briefcase after that night, and the way I was so attracted all of a sudden to a random stranger scares and scared the shit out of me. And we all say things, but in reality, sooner or later, little arguments or drama will happen. And that's inevitable. I just don't want to open myself up and fall if and when you don't like me anymore. You know what I mean?"
When I was quiet, he shook his head and emitted a half-hearted chuckle.
"I'm talking in circles, aren't I?"
"I think I get what you're saying," I finally suggested. "And it's okay. Everyone has those little things in their personalities. And I don't blame you. I'm not asking for you to give me all of your trust unconditionally. I'll work with what I have until maybe one day, I can be what you've always wanted."
His eyes smoldering, we beheld one another. I could tell my words were rightly affective, leaving a positive impact on him as his shoulders enlightened and his stance eased.
"That means a lot to me."
"I've been thinking it and I felt you needed to hear that."
"Thank you for just...understanding. And Dri?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time you go out or whatever, keep your eyes out for the paparazzi if you can. I want us to keep our relationship out of the private eye. Celebrity relationships are typically better that way."
"Alright. You too."
And then he enveloped me, plain old me in my ratty sleep shorts and unflattering t-shirt, with my stringy hair dangling in my face, pale cheeks tracked with tears and probably dried drool from the night's sleep, and I was wanted, despite the stupidity and the misinterpretation of the situation, I was still wanted. I felt blessed, but knew that because of Marshall's sensitivity towards Dev, I would be treading on cautious ground when I went out and about with him, something I would have to limit now that the paparazzi had eyes on the three of us.
"Go get changed. And then I'll make you some breakfast," he proposed, clearing his throat as he dropped his hold on me.
"Okay," I squeaked back, and watched him turn and leave for the lower level. Moving slowly to the bed after he was long gone, I lifted the lie-printed article, then proceeded to the toilet, where I shredded the entire thing manually and furiously, flushing it.
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After he had prepared a breakfast for the two of us, we seated ourselves and ate awkwardly, making small conversation, the girls unfortunately not around to brighten up the dismal discussion. I finished eating while he courteously stood, rolled up his sleeves, and washed the dishes, then moving to dry them. I felt impolite as I moved to the sink to cleanse my dish as to not burden him but gently, he brushed me to the side with his hip and took the plate from me.
"I got it," he reassured, and all I could do was stand aside uselessly until he dried the last platter and turned his face to me.
"I should get going," I offered, before he could say a single word.
"Wait, are you sure?" he hesitated.
"Yeah. I don't want to bother you or anything. You should start working."
"You know, it's fine, if you want to stay."
The unbearable mixture of unclear feelings lingered in the air, and I would have done anything for it to be gone. Wiping my clammy palms down on my tight denim jeans, I exhaled heavily.
"No, it's okay, I'm going to go."
"Can I drive you, at least?"
"My car is out there. It's fine." Jerking my thumb to where I approximated the parking area to be, I grinned modestly, and headed for the grand stairs.
"Hey, listen. I could drive you and then I'll have someone bring over your car in forty five minutes. Is that okay?"
"That's too much trouble."
"No, really. It's aight." He held me with his eyes, and nodded briefly to coax me into listening to him. When I gave no reply, he chimed in once more. "You can get your elephant purse while I get the car going." His light try at a teasing joke worked and I cracked a small smile as he strode to the door, yanked it open, and disappeared outside the house.
I eventually got all my belongings together, hobbled down the stairs and out to the front of the house, where Marshall awaited me in the car.
"Forgetting anything?" he reminded.
"Nope," I mentally calculated, verifying, and I released my massive handbag onto the sleek covered flooring of the car as I squeezed in, leaning back. My eyes drifted to the window as he drove smoothly out of the estate and onto the normal streets surrounding his mansion.
"Adrienne?" he voiced after a good ten minutes had passed.
"Hmmm?" I lifted my head from its' tilted position on the windowsill and lazily eyed him.
"We're cool, right?"
"Huh? Oh...yeah. Yeah, we're cool."
"Okay. Good." He re-gripped the steering wheel, eyes straight ahead, and I repositioned my face so I was daydreaming out the window once more. Out of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn I saw him peep over at me, anxious to catch even a short look at my expression.
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When we pulled up in my driveway after a sullen ride, my stomach gurgled warningly and I nearly puked. Dev was standing in front of my door, hands clenching the newspaper as his eyes scanned it. Marshall hurriedly sniffed in air, and all of a sudden, the tension level in the car sky-rocketed and the wooziness of the morning returned.
"Yo, Dri, what the fuck is this?" Dev hollered disbelievingly, pointing frantically to the same image and article that had ruined both mine and Marshall's morning when we'd discovered it. "This shit is everywhere!" He took a few steps towards the car, and my heart lurched in fear of what was dashing through Marshall's mind at the moment.
I threw my handbag over one shoulder, leaving the car, and struggled to balance myself as I fished out the house keys from my back pocket and stepped towards the doorsteps.
"Paparazzi for you," I commented coldly, appearing to be detached and distant.
"Yeah, dude, seriously, how did they find this shit? We were alone, I ain't see nobody followin' us."
"Yup," I sighed, shoving the door open with my knee and allowing the bag to collapse by the pile of various favorite shoes.
"Is something wrong?" he wondered, eyes dancing from Marshall, who had now exited the car and was leaning somewhat on the hood of it, to me, poised under my doorway. He was directly in between us.
"Hey man," Dev decided to greet Marshall by flashing a curiously crooked beam and waving politely, but Marshall just bobbed his head distractedly and set his eyes clear past Dev, on me.
"Nothing's wrong, Dev. But from now on, I want us to stay out of the paper. I don't want to see things like that." I sneered in the general direction of the paper. "It builds a bad reputation."
"You alright, Dri? And yeah, that's fine. But I just don't see why you're making it seem like it was my fault that we're in the paper." An obnoxious tone stood out in Dev's voice and I gritted my teeth, displeased.
"I never said it was your fault. I'm just saying."
"Yeah, I know, but-"
"Just forget about it, alright?" I tugged back my hair from my face and sighed uncomfortably. Avoiding Marshall, I then rested my eyes on Dev's, which were filled with bewilderment. Muteness filled the distances between the three of us.
"Adrienne?" It was Marshall who spoke up.
"Yeah?"
"I have to go now. But I'll send your car over, alright?"
"Sounds good."
Lips still holding no hint of a smile, he elevated his arms ever so slightly, implying he was hoping for a tender display of affection. I hop-skipped down the stairs and meekly collapsed into him. Curving arms entwining around my waist, the pounding of his heart beat in sync with mine, he tightened me to him, so close that our torsos were crushed together.
When he released me from his caring grip, his lips moved against mine bluntly, and then he stepped back, cheeks rosy with eager flush.
"Bye," he whispered, throwing a tarrying look at Dev, then dodging under the height of the car door as he climbed in.
I smiled, acknowledging him as the silky vehicle slid out my driveway, and gave him a small wave, heart still incredibly shaken up from the earlier ordeals.
"The fuck was that?" Dev broke my state of inner peace for once in the longest time with an exclamation.
"What?"
"When he was hugging you, he hella gave me a look while he held you. Like step off. Is he mad or something?" Brows tied together, Dev was outraged and stunned by something I hadn't bothered to notice.
"Don't worry about it," I shook off.
"Dri..."
"What, Dev?"
"He's changing you."
"What? What do you mean? That's ridiculous."
"You know what...never mind. It's cool. I'll catch you around later." Shoulders drooping, he tucked the article in his sagging back pocket, thrust his hands deep into his front pockets, and sauntered off mellowly before I could manage anything that would argue with or even challenge him.
I was exhausted, and it wasn't even noon yet. Hoping my car would arrive sooner than later so I could accomplish the errands I never had time to fully do on the weekend, I shut the door, lumbered into my bedroom with my stuffed purse, emptied it, then ultimately stripped down for a shower.
I shoved my phone into it's charger before I eased myself under the spell of the hot water, and when I stepped out, I was eager to see if Marshall had texted or even called me. Nothing. I felt like the biggest fool, standing in the middle of my room, towel wrapped around my naked body, water droplets cascading to the floor, and of course, with my phone in my hand. The vibe of unhappiness returned as I dressed and crawled under the cool, unused sheets of my bed.
I drifted off, unable to restrain myself from doing so because there was nothing else to work on. Sometime after I rose, I padded into the kitchen, and just very swiftly, pulled back the thick curtain, glancing outside. As had been promised, my car was sturdily parked in the driveway, exactly like I'd left it in Marshall's parking area.
The curtain fell from between my fingers, but I pulled it back for a second time; my eyes had spotted something. Taped to the driver's window from the inside was a slip of paper, but from where I was, I could make out no hint of who it was from and what it was regarding.
Having no other options, I slid my feet into worn shoes and headed to my car, unlocking it and sitting on the driver's designated seat, feet hanging casually over the side, car door wide open.
Dri,
I'm sorry you had to wake up that way. I don't know how to excuse my behavior, but now that I think about it, it wasn't the best way I could have reacted. I just need some time, it's hard for me to gain trust so fast. Don't think it's you, baby, because you did nothing wrong. Shit happens. I hope I'll be able to see you soon. Have a good day.
-M. :)
Sympathy for him welled in my heart. He was broken and battered, abused and mistreated by a woman who had only pictured herself in their relationship, and yet here he was trying for me, all over again. His innocence, despite his age, was clear to me, and I wished momentarily I could soothe him into loving and perhaps even being trustful, though the steps would be grueling and tested. I dug out my phone.
Me: Thank you for bringing my car and writing such a touching note. :)
Captivated by his written rawness while I patiently awaited his response, I re-read the lovely letter, and visualized in my head that just a few hours ago, his graceful hand had skimmed across this paper, his eyes may have lit up as he envisioned me, and that he had experienced some sort of emotion for me while he'd penned down his kind words. But most of all, what struck me the most is that he had thought of me long and hard enough that it occurred to him to compose a letter.
My phone buzzed and I snatched it up. It was the very last person I would want to hear from, especially at such a mood-changing time like this. My mother left a voice mail after she noticed that I hadn't picked up, and unfortunately for her, I wasn't about to.
I counted twenty three calls. The she-devil was back after allowing me a stress-less amount of time.
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Okay, so this chapter did cover a lot of really important things, and I did like this one. The end of this one is a slight filler as you may have seen, and I hope you guys are satisfied with the way things turned out for Dri and Marshall. Ahaha poor Dev, he gets so much hate. But that's what you get for messing with Marshall(; I have no other really big announcements except sorry if the editing wasn't the best, I got lazy, and to just keep voting, commenting, fanning, messaging, recommending, and being my amazing fans. <3 Love you all, and let's get nine votes for this chapter!(: Until next time. -Parisa.