The Unexpected Encounter (An Eminem Fan Fiction)

Chapter 31: Headlines

The next morning my father and I got up semi-early, around nine o'clock. 

We went again to get complimentary breakfast. This time, I knew to get less items than I did before. And I actually did finish most of my plate. I was delighted; my dad was even proud of me.

Having said that, the "revealing of the news last night:" the way my dad handled the entire situation was actually incredible. He showed his utmost happiness and excitement for me, mild disbelief at first, of course, but I assured him it all completely true. I went to explain to him how Marshall was one of the guest events at the club that night. Bringing up the issue with Martin (reminding him about it before), I explained to him that Marshall was the one to step in and help me "rescue" me from that situation. We chilled for a while after, Marshall showed me the studio, his home, and then I met his daughter, Hailie, and we hit it off splendidly. And in the picture, I squeezed Nate in, too. I didn't include any extra details in that; nothing about a likely "romance" going on. Just an artist being courteous to a loyal fan and that his daughter and I became really good friends somewhere in the mix.

After breakfast, we went to visit just two of the three museums my father listed from last night. Usually, museums like these would bore me, but I've actually developed a fondness to these kinds of places as of late.

The Detroit Institute of Arts was ravishing. It had a huge hallway and so much ancient art from long ago. It was beautiful, seeing all the sculptures, paintings, even just the hallways and chapel they had. Then, the Michigan Science Center afterward was a blast. The entire place was an interactive, hands-on fun kind of experience. It was mainly designed for kids but I had just as much fun as any other young child would. I did many activities and learned a lot of amazing new things I didn't know before.

We grabbed a quick lunch and decided to head back to the hotel once finished. It was already five. I told Hailie I would be over closer to six. We planned to go out that night: perhaps go shopping together, eat dinner, and catch a movie. We made a whole list of things to do. I believed she said she invited Alaina (her twenty-one-year-old sisterly cousin—Marshall's third daughter; second adopted, with Whitney) over that night, so she could join us in our night of fun.

I went to pack some few things needed for a sleepover like extra clothing items and the such; pretty much a lighter version of what I brought on this trip already. I also touched up myself a bit, re-applying my makeup and fixing my hair a little. I kept the same clothes I had on the whole day, which actually, was pretty funny what I chose to wear today: I wore adorable black high-waisted studded shorts, my white "Eminem" tank top which was tucked underneath my shorts, Marshall's oversized black zipped up hoodie he "gave" to me on top of everything, and these cute studded black boots last. Also, I wore my Detroit "D" beanie. I loved this look a lot—it was basically an "Eminem pride meets 'Survival.'" Total punk rock status.

I had everything packed for that night in my "Slim Shady" bag. I told my father thank you for this once again. I promised to keep in touch with him. I also let him know that I should be back Saturday evening before sundown. I still had to pack since we would be leaving Michigan Sunday morning.

It was 5:38 P.M. now. The taxi had been waiting for me outside. I jumped in, told the driver the address, and rode in it for thirty minutes.

I sent texts out to everyone letting them know I was coming. Sitting bored in the back of the cab, I decided to check my social media sites I was linked to. I haven't been on since I left for this trip. After signing in and getting reconnected, notifications began blowing up my phone. This completely baffling, I checked them right away. They seemed to be coming from my Facebook and Twitter? From hardly ever receiving notifications from these sites to all of a sudden getting more than I could count—this was mind-boggling. I'd gotten a random bunch of friend requests from people I didn't even know from Facebook and a big follower number, plus the same over on Twitter. What in the hell?

I anxiously scrolled down my feed and mentions, even Google, to get answers from anywhere. Right then, when I found it, I gasped. There were a few photos of me with Marshall that leaked online. It was taken the very first night from one of the paparazzi, I noted while recollecting. Those flashing lights, me trying my best to duck and hide in the seat as Marshall got in as soon as he could in the car... Unfortunately, some of the sneakier, filthy paps got the right angle where it showed me in the passenger seat, some through the windshield as well. My obvious features were shown (facial, body) so it wasn't hard to find and match who I was if someone tried. Oh, no.

There was also talk everywhere: "Who is she?" "Is Eminem seeing her?" "A new girl?" "New collab? New artist?" "What does Kim think? Does she know?"

I was taken aback. How could this information be leaked, though? My personal identity? Who was the one who exposed me out? Obviously, I would've been found out sooner or later. I should have prepared from the beginning. I guess I didn't think it would happen like this. But now, it had hit me hard.

"Hello? Miss? We're here."

I jumped. We had come to a complete stop and were in front of the mansion. I gave the driver my payment and jumped out, unable to stand stable on my own two feet. I soon regained balance and looked around me restlessly. What if paparazzi show up out of nowhere? What if they come talk to me, question, interview me? Am I being followed? 

I quickly dialed up Marshall. He picked up almost instantly. "Hey—"

"I'm here, outside." I cut him off, my voice shaking. "Can you open up the gate?" I also kept my voice low.

Marshall sounded concerned. "Everything alright?"

"Just hurry, please," I said, giving another quick glance around me. "I'll explain when I'm inside."