The Unexpected Encounter (An Eminem Fan Fiction)

Chapter 61: Searchin'

Thirty minutes later, I was an ugly mess in my bed. I felt sorely disgusting and unattractive.

I lied there a little while in silence. I was on my back, head rested against my soft pillow, staring up at the ceiling. Is there any hope for me left? I threw the thought around in my head as I made a few turns in bed. Probably not.

I nearly jumped when something surprised me terribly bad at that second. My phone began to ring loudly from beside me. I made a reach for my phone, then furrowed my brows angrily when I read who was on the caller I.D.: "Marshie."

What does he want calling me at a time like this? I almost chucked my phone at the wall but didn't. I just set the phone back down, letting it go to voicemail. Something in me felt like picking it up, though. I wanted to talk to him; I really wanted to. Just to be able to hear his voice and speak to him again. I hated this conflict very much.

My phone began ringing again a minute later. And of course, it was him again. I was staring at my phone screen as I let the basic ringtone play. The thought of picking it up juggled around in my mind. Should I pick up? Or not? I went with the former. Something in me told me to—my guilty conscience. "...hello?" I started, frailly. 

"Sal?" his voice on the other end responded. Hearing his voice again was like heaven to me; it sounded beautiful. "Hi. It's, uh, me."

"Hi," I said back, plainly.

"How are you?"

The way Marshall started this off with a simple conversation starter very well pissed me off. I hesitated not to tell him "How I was," bluntly. "Other than the fact that I've been sitting in my room, bawling my eyes out the entire time, I've been great, thanks for asking." There was silence for a few seconds. I went on to ask him something in return, upset. "How was your birthday?"

He answered, very gravely. "To tell you the truth, really shitty."

I spoke back with an angered attitude. "I don't see how. You're getting love from all your fans all over the world; all blown up with never ending birthday wishes."

"Because," Marshall spoke on, ignoring my last part. "If there was one thing I could do in the world on this day, it would be to see you spend the day with you, and I blew it. This past week has been utter shit. It made me less than nothing; no motivation, no nothing."

My eyes widened listening to him.

"I thought doing what I did could have gotten my mind back on track but it did the complete fucking opposite. It made me worse than ever and really damn unproductive, too, at that. It's like I can't even think straight or be myself anymore. I don't know what the hell I was thinking. I'm sorry about that shit and what I did to you. I'll do anything to make it up to you. I'm so fucking sorry. I love you," he said. "I do."

"I love you, too," I was saying to him. "I couldn't get you out of my head, either. This week has been as awful for me as it was for you," I said on, still in pain, however with happiness now repairing it.

Marshall croaked more apologies to me, being a wreck on the other side of the line himself. He began to ask me something. "Can I come see you? Where are you? Do you want to stop by my place? Or I can always pick you up or see you down where you are."

"I'm not there," I said quietly.

"Huh?" he felt like he didn't hear me correct.

"I'm not in Michigan. I'm at home, in California."

There was a pause coming from him. "What are you doing down there?"

"I wanted to visit home," I answered. "And given what happened, I didn't want to be in Michigan around this time."

Marshall sounded heartbroken. "Is that it? You're there permanently?"

"No," I assured him. "I'm just here for the weekend."

He let out a sigh of relief. "Thank, God. I want to see you as soon as you come back, alright?"

"Okay," I replied. My phone let off a buzz immediately after that. I took my phone away from my ear to check that I'd received a new text message.

"What was that?" Marshall asked, hearing it across the line.

"That was my phone... Nate texted me back," I explained to him, chuckling. Before another word, it did it again. I laughed more. "And that one was from Hailie."

"Oh. Well, I can leave you be if you want to go ahead and chat with them."

"No, don't leave yet. Another ten minutes," I pleaded. "I missed you all this time. I can text them back later."

"Alright," Marshall sounded content. "I missed you all this time, too."

I smiled happily. However, there was silence on the phone now. Awkward silence. No one was talking. What should I say? I was about to bring up a subject when Marshall began something entirely different himself before I was able to:

"Ain't no one special, special like you," Marshall started singing lovingly over the phone. He repeated the same line about two more times after that.

I was giggling with a last few tears in my eyes from his adorable randomness. Plus, the fact that he was singing to me; not really singing, but more serenading it to me. I joined with him, adding in a line myself. "I been searching, but you're the one I want in my life, baby," I sang, and quite truthful at that. I ended it, blushing to myself.

"Your singing voice... another thing I missed. Sing more of the hook for me," he wanted.

I refused. "No way."

"Come on," he begged.

"Only if you rap the entire part of your verse for me," I giggled, making a deal.

Marshall groaned, "Fine." I then heard laughter come from the phone. "I was going to do it for you anyway." This went on for the next ten minutes, us just singing "Searchin'" to each other. Ten minutes soon became twenty, twenty which became forty, and so on. I was on the phone with Marshall for the next few hours. It's like neither of us wanted to get off at that rate. We were both enjoying each other's company, talking on forever and basking in each other's silliness. Something we had equally missed for so long. However, the lateness of the time itself was what had to bring our call to an end.

"Well," I began, recalling a bit. "I guess I'll be replying to Nate and the girls tomorrow then."

Marshall let out a light laugh. "Sorry."

I smiled. "Don't worry. It was worth it."

He agreed on it as well, as he went on to conclude our call. "I hope you have a good night. Sleep well... and I'll speak to you and see you again soon."

"Okay. Sounds wonderful. And same to you... good night," I wished him.

"Bye, baby."

"Bye," I said last. Suddenly, I blurted his name fast before he could hang up. "Marshall?"

"Yeah?"

"Happy Birthday. I hope your day wasn't all as shitty as you described. I'm sure it couldn't have been that bad."

"It wasn't," he said back. "Because I got the chance to speak to you and hear your beautiful voice again by the end of it. That's all I wanted for my b-day."

I smiled widely, feeling very warm and bubbly on the inside. "I'm glad."

"Me too," he replied sweetly, as he said his goodbyes. "Bye for now, Sal. I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Marshall. See you soon," I cheerfully responded back, feeling full of hope.