Chapter 41: Twitter Things

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After some time, I was finally ready.

I had bumped into Hailie during as she was waking up herself. We talked and she explained to me more in depth how her, Alaina, and her other group of friends all had plans out for that day. I told her I wasn't going to go meet up with my dad until it reached sunset. I said I'd make it back before then, her saying so too for them both—we could meet up back here and bid our farewells then, and that we'd get Nate to come, too.

Alaina was still sleeping in her old room, and I found that Marshall wasn't up here anymore. I presumed he was already waiting in the garage. Saying goodbye to Hailie for now, I left her.

Scurrying past rooms and halls, I eventually reached the garage. I opened the house door that led out to it, revealing that the garage door itself had already been open. Sunlight filled the area. I looked to find Marshall leaning against one of his cars, him having been waiting for me.

What he got dressed into was a gray hooded jacket, a notable black Kangol army cap, a black shirt, plus khaki shorts. As far as accessories went, I noticed his dog chain necklace dangling around his neck, his classic Casio G-Shock watch on his right wrist, chain bracelet on his left, and last, his signature Nike Air Maxes. I smiled looking at him. It was his well-known look. 

"About time," Marshall said, tone impatient. "I thought you weren't even going to come."

"I was fixing myself up to look good for you," I grumbled.

"Alright, I get it. You do look good," he told me, complimenting.

I sighed, smiling cheekily. "Thanks." I stopped then, looking at him hesitantly. "Am I driving?"

"I'll take the wheel this time," he answered.

"Really?" I looked at him surprised as he headed to the driver's side door of a black 2009 Hummer.

"Yeah," he replied briefly. "Just because I know a shortcut," he explained, hopping into the vehicle. "Now get your ass in or I'm taking off without you," he yelled out lastly, slamming the door.

Without another word, I sprinted to the passenger's side and jumped inside as he revved up the engine. I took a look around this luxurious vehicle I'd just entered. "Nice ride."

Marshall grinned at me as he pulled out of the garage. "Welcome to the Shady Mobile."

I let out a burst of laughter. "Shady Mobile? That's cute."

"Not as cute as you," he instantly said in return.

I turned pink right away, internally mad. "I like your Nike Air Maxes."

He looked at me strangely. "Thanks? That's random." I smiled bashfully at him. I went on to comment everything else, from his G-Shock watch to his dog-chain necklace. I thought it was funny he wore them all normally on a regular basis. "You don't got a G-Shock watch yourself, do you?" Marshall asked me out of the blue.

"No, why?"

"I'll get you one. One of the limited edition ones."

My eyes widened, looking at him. "Marshall, you don't have to do that. As much as I love their watches and think they're nice and flashy, I can't accept that."

"You're getting one."

I couldn't protest. If Marshall was intent on it, there was nothing I could do about it. But having my own G-Shock watch? I would love that to no end.  

We sat in the car for about ten minutes when I thought turning on my phone and checking all the social media sites wouldn't be a bad idea; just so I could get a peek at what's been going on. I swallowed, prepared for what was to come as my phone started up. Soon after everything finally loaded, I certainly was surprised. "What the hell?" I blurted, separate other notifications coming in. "Missed calls from my mom? Can she leave me alone?" I spat angrily.

Marshall watched me with sympathetic eyes.

I apologized right away. "Sorry... she gets me really irritated sometimes. But, on other news—it seems I have a couple thousand followers on Twitter." I started laughing. "People are tweeting me, asking if I'm really seeing you." I scrolled down more, really going into a fit of laughter when a certain tweet caught my eye. "This one person tweeted, 'Have you slept with @Eminem? Is he a #Monster in bed if you catch my drift?'" I couldn't stop laughing at that point. I even saw Marshall smile from the corner of his mouth. I began again. "I'll retweet and favorite this particular one. Also, reply saying, 'You know it.'"

"No!" Marshall hollered.

That made me jump, me just laughing more. "I'm kidding! I'll favorite it, that's it."

He groaned. "Are they shooting mean things at you, though?"

"Um," I stopped him, sadly it being untrue. "I see some from woman, mostly. They're mad because they want to be in my position. It's not really bothering me much," I told him, truthfully. "It's nonsense they're saying, anyway."

He went on to lecture me. "If I've learned anything from them, from fans, it's that they're powerful. They can either be supportive, bring you to the top, or they can bring you down and break you. They work together as an army and can end up being damaging if they get to you in ways. You let people who don't even fucking know you weigh you down, you're going to be screwed. Don't let them do that to you. Ignore the bullshit they're saying. You got me. I'll stand up for you if anything happens."

I turned to him, smiling gratefully for the things he said. "Thanks, Marshall."

He looked back at me, eyes a little saddened. "Watch yourself when you get back home."

I swallowed, that hitting me—the fact that Marshall wouldn't be around to protect me when I was back in my hometown. Looking back at him, I nodded, understanding.

We rode on for a little while longer, listening to Shade 45 and chatting every now and then, me still joking around with the amusing tweets I saw sent to me. I updated my status, saying careful things, nothing about Marshall; just about how beautiful the city of Detroit and the entirety of my trip here was.

Next, before I knew it, we had arrived at our location. It was the same lot we pulled into that night after the club. It was the recording studio/business district. It hadn't hit me that I was going to meet... D12, was it? I was excited. Not just Marshall's colleagues, friends, or his "group of homies," but respectable artists in the rap game.

I stepped out of the car, looking definitely forward yet anxious.

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