detox.

By platinumgarbage

806 28 5

legendary record producer rick rubin has wanted to work with eminem for quite some time. however, when they f... More

pensive.
anticipation.
approachable.
progress.
observations.

opprotunity knocks.

144 4 0
By platinumgarbage

"ace of spades?"

my father's calm, quiet voice affectionately called me by the nickname he took from the title of a mötorhead song.

given that we're jewish, he'd originally intended to give me a hebrew name. "anais" was considered, but just as he'd always wished that his birth certificate read "rick" instead of "frederick," he wanted me to have a calling that was short and less formal.

i guess he thought "ace" sounded cool.

i'll never understand what goes through that man's head, but i love him to death.

i swung my bedroom door wide open.

"yeah, dad."

he looked apprehensive. i bit my lower lip.

"something wrong?"

he shook his head. "no, but i have to talk to you about something."

we settled down on my mattress, and he sighed.

"i was speaking to someone that wants to work with you."

that was puzzling. "why didn't they just call me?"

he was full of sighs today. "originally, we were looking to do a project together."

my mouth became dry. "well, why in the hell didn't you?"

someone big enough to contact my father should have no interest in me. i'd only had the title of "producer" for a little over a year, putting things together for obscure artists and occassionally signing them to my indie label, grime records. following in his footsteps wasn't even my initial plan, but medical school was an abject failure. besides, making beats from scratch was satisfying.

"my sound is warm. cheesy rat blues type stuff. he wants something more like..well, you."

i felt almost violated. "you showed him my work."

"he asked. now he won't stop talking my ear off about it."

i rolled my eyes. "who is it, anyways?"

"eminem."

did i hear him correctly?

"oh god, really?" i probably looked mortified.

"you don't like him?" he seemed dissappointed.

"are you insane?" i demanded, "of course i do. christ, he's so good at what he does. that's what makes it scary." i gulped.

"don't put yourself down," he insisted.

"he's been inactive. drug problem, right?" i asked curiously.

he nodded. "he's back, and feeling ambitious."

me, of all people.

"i'll think about it."

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