Chapter 39: Take From Me
Three Weeks Later…
Riley felt like she’d bounced back quickly from her injuries. The show in Tacoma was a little shaky but with the revised skit and the enforced rest, she’d managed to get back to reasonable health by the time they toured down the west coast to San Diego. This show marked the half-way point for the US tour. In some ways, she felt like she’d been on the road forever, and on the other hand, she couldn’t believe it was half over already.
She and Marshall had managed to spend some quality time together. It wasn’t the fact that they didn’t see each other, but rather, they were always surrounded by other people. Luckily, sharing the same hotel did have its benefits. The only problem was pushing past their exhaustion to stay awake for a few more bliss hours.
On rare occasions, like tonight, Riley had enough time to sneak onto the side of the stage and watch him perform. He looked amazing on stage. He acted like he belonged up there, like it was what he was born to do. He made everything look effortless, sliding over the beats. The crowd loved him and hang off of every word he said. He’s always do his best to involve the crowd, pumping them up between songs. At one point, he even crowd surfed, making the audience go mental.
She was filled with such joy as she watched the audience tip him back into the stage. She couldn’t help but laugh, and had to stop herself from stepping out onstage as she leant forwards, trying to get a better view. She was still in the makeup covered shirt she wore for the Criminal Skit, earlier. He was smiling, wide. She enjoyed watching him perform, so much. He looked like he was having so much fun.
“Yo, you guys are crazy,” She heard him say into the mike. He seemed to be talking to someone in the front row. “You think you’re my biggest fan?” He laughed, “You what?”
Riley couldn’t see who he was talking to and shuffled forwards, leaning as far out as she could without actually being on stage. She spotted Marshall leaning over the edge of the stage. Looking up at the screen, where the cameras had zoomed in, she was glad she could finally see. But she didn’t see anything good.
Leaning over the edge of the stage, he looked like he was going to give a brunette a hug but she leant forwards and grabbed his neck, pulling him down onto her. They locked lips instantly. Riley’s heart nearly fell out of her chest. Instead of pulling away, Marshall kissed her back before she released him and started freaking out, pulling jealous stares from every other female around her.
The track for the next song started, Marshall leant up, as if nothing had happened and continued on with the next song, just as hyped and happy as before. Riley felt a sick churning in her gut as she stepped back from the curtains. Using the wall to steady herself, she couldn’t erase the image from her mind. Had he really just done that?
He’d done it so openly and plainly, as if he hadn’t thought of her at all. It’d happened so quickly, she almost couldn’t believe it.
Mark was suddenly by her side, staring at her. He grabbed her shoulder, “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
She slowly raised her eyes to him, basically in shock. “Marshall… he just... k-kissed a girl in the crowd.”
“He what?!”
She didn’t have the strength to be able to repeat herself. Mark had suddenly stormed off and she was aware of the music and lights fading from stage as Marshall yelled out, “Goodnight San Diego!” The stage went dark as the stage was prepared for the next act as he ran offstage. When the lights came back onstage, she couldn’t even hear 50 start his performance, everything had seemed to dull to slow motion.
Marshall grabbed his water bottle and downed half of it before spotting her and approaching. She felt her breath shallow as flashes of him kissing that woman- that stranger- protruded in her mind.
As he came within range, he pulled her into a hug but she stiffened and didn’t return it, hands hanging by her side as he pressed her awkwardly against his chest. He looked confused as he pulled away and motioned further backstage, where they wouldn’t have to compete with the noise from stage.
Riley blindly followed him into his dressing room, where the noise faded into a background thump, rather than blaring music and rap. He sat down, casually, wiping his forehead with a towel.
“What’s up with you?” He asked, innocently.
Was he really going to act like nothing had happened? Like she didn’t see? He must’ve known she was watching. Anger welled inside of her. Had he done this before and gotten away with it? Maybe at other shows, when she wasn’t looking. She felt so stupid. That whole bullshit fight with Mark and actually made her think that he cared about her and he’d turned around and done this?
“Are you kidding me?”
He turned to face her and noted her furious and hurt expression. She could hardly think straight she was so mad. She even had tears of frustration in your eyes. “What?”
She couldn’t believe she had to point out what was wrong. She motioned to the stage with a firm hand, “You kissed a fucking girl out there, that’s what.”
The color from his face drained, as if he realized his mistake. “Shit.” He looked down at the ground, as if to be scrambling for an excuse.
"I don't know how you and Kim ran your relationship but I'm not okay with it. You went berserk when you thought Mark and I were sleeping together and we weren’t. But you go off and kiss some other girl, you don’t even know, and expect me not to care?!” She stepped forwards, hurt spilling off of her.
“It wasn’t me,” He said. Riley couldn’t believe her ears. “When I get on stage, Slim just takes over me.”
"You can't just hide behind your fake personas. They're not the real you.” She was in shock that he would even use that as an excuse. It was like saying that the ‘model’ Riley is different from the ‘surfer’ Riley. She could hardly take his excuses anymore and headed for the door.
Slim called out for her, "Riley-"
Turning, as he hand gripped the door handle, she was almost sad as she delivered her final punchline, "You know what, Slim Shady? Tell Marshall if he doesn't get his shit together whatever we have will be over faster than he can rap."
She slammed the door shut on the way out.
********************
Marshall’s knuckles were still stinging from where his fist had gone straight through the wall in his dressing room. He had to get his swinging ability under control before he did some real damage. But it was hardly his focus right now. He’d never seen Riley so mad. Even when she remembered that he’d been using her to make Kim jealous as a kid. This was a different kind of angry… it was more definite and shocking. She’d never spoken to him with such a tone. It was so back strong and independent… it turned him on a little bit.
Shaking his head clear, he knew all too well that the fire Riley had in her eyes only reminded him of Kim and that’s why he was feeling so much more drawn to her. He knew he shouldn’t be, but he could have sworn it was Kim yelling at him back in the dressing room, instead of Riley.
This was bad. It seemed like they were just going through struggle after struggle. He knew being on tour put pressure on everyone, but trying do it, on a relatively new relationship was a whole new level of hard. Things were moving so quickly and he just acted without thinking.
He could only guess that was his problem. Not Thinking. Being out on stage, it brought him back to his first tour, when he and Kim had been having a rough time and kissing girls in the crowd wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t even a thing. Kim would never know and he knew she was doing the same thing at home. But he was with Riley now and she was here and… hell… their relationship operated on very different terms. He’d just been so ‘in the zone’ his responsibilities had slipped his mind.
He was right in his own argument, however. Slim Shady did take over him like that. It was why he had such a hard time with his temper and his self-control. Why his song lyrics ended up so angry. Why the people loved him. Riley didn’t understand how much Slim ruled over his life- even if he didn’t want him to. And he especially didn’t at the moment. They were different people.
He spotted Riley in the hall, leaning against her dressing room door. She was facing it, head rested on her arm which was resting on the solid wood. She looked exhausted. Or frustrated. God… he couldn’t even tell anymore.
He called out to her, “Riley.”
She looked up, nostrils flaring slightly as she breathed out, angrily. She didn’t say a word, just opened the dressing room door.
He spoke to her softly, trying to get through to her. “Come on, Riley. We promised we’d make this work.”
She didn’t want a bar of it, “Yeah, on the condition that neither of us go around kissing other people!”
Marshall grasped hold of her wrist but she pulled away, violently. She stormed inside the empty dressing room, trying to put some space between them. But all he wanted to do was have her close.
“What is it with you? You went so crazy about the very thought of me and Mark together but it’s all fine for you to actually go kiss a complete stranger. I am not going to be in a relationship with a double standard, Slim.”
“Stop calling me that!” Marshall yelled, slamming his palm against the wall.
Riley threw him a fed up look, “You’re acting like him. What are you going to do now? Say sorry? And if I don’t accept your apology, what then? Are you going to shove me in a car, drive off and choke me to death like you did to Kim?”
Marshall threw his arms up, hopelessly, “Oh great! Let’s just pull out my fucking lyric sheets and you can beat me with them? Read them off one sentence at a time! You know I don’t mean anything I write in my songs.”
“Do you mean anything you say to me?”
Her words cut him like a double-edged sword. He could hardly reply to such a statement. Did she really think that? “Riley-”
“I have to get changed.” She gave him a hard stare and feeling defeated, he stepped back as she shut the door in his face. Again.
On a horrifically perfect timing he heard Mark’s hatred-fuelled voice echoed down the hall.
“Hey, dickhead!”
Marshall groaned. “Not now, man. I don’t need an earful from you too.”
“Fuck you! You’re about to get a fistful.”
As he turned he realized Mark was a lot close than he’d anticipated and had his fists swinging before Marshall even knew what happened. In a second, he was on the ground, pain flaring through his chin. He’d been taken out by a damn upper cut. Kicking him as hard as possible in the shin, Mark grunted and fell to the floor where Marshall managed to get the upper hand for a split second.
With anger flaring through both of their bones, he found himself taking all his frustration out on Mark as the wrestled around on the backstage floor, trying to get in as many blows as possible. He was so in the zone that he didn’t hear Proof’s yelling. He managed to roll back on top of Mark and felt Proof rip at his underarms, trying to pull him off.
He fell backwards, Proof holding him back as the arena security held down Mark who was red in the face and looked ready to kill someone. Marshall struggled forwards but Proof kept his grip, holding him against the floor.
“What the hell, guys?” Proof exclaimed, wildly. He stared down at him, “We’re on stage in five minutes and you’re back here fighting?”
“He started it,” Marshall insisted.
The security hauled Mark up to his feet but didn’t let go of him. Proof frowned, “Keep them separate.”
They pushed Mark down the hall as he yelled out. “I’m coming for you, Marshall! When you’re security isn’t here to protect you!” They kept pushing Mark away until he was out of sight.
It wasn’t until then, that Proof released him. “Are you going to tell me what happened or am I going to have to find out on my own?”
Marshall sighed, not having the energy to get up off the floor. He buried his face in his hands. “I’ve fucked up everything.”