Wait, what? Me and Eminem?! (An Eminem Fan-Fiction) *Completed*

Chapter Forty Six

Okay guys, seriously, let me begin by saying how horribly and completely ashamed I am. Lately, I've just completely lacked the desire to write, and I've been so busy with school and shit that I didn't have time to focus on this story at all. School is over now and I hope you'll forgive me; I'm really trying to get back into the mindset of how dedicated I was and the whole vibe between Dri and Marshall, but it's hard for me to recreate something like that in just a day. So please bear with me, I understand that I've lost fans, but in due time, I think I can get them back. Without further ado, here is the long-awaited Chapter Forty Six! <3 Remember: it picks up where it left off so you might wanna re-read Chapter Forty Five to refresh your memory.

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I hadn't seen Marshall for two or so days when Tuesday rolled around like it did every week. This particular day, I was feeling a little chilled to the bone; the incoming winter weather not seeming very comforting and perhaps mild, so I stifled a cough and threw on a thicker sweater, because I knew that if Mr. Rizzo caught me coughing, he would ask me to go home, for my own well-being. But I knew that if I was to do that, it would be another day that could have been productive wasted away into nothing, and I would have nothing in turn to save up with for my slowly rising college fund. It seemed the more money I managed to hold onto, the higher college tutuitions were raised, and the whole process was unsteady, considering how I still had no idea what I wanted to be when I was "grown up," as children would say. Every time I paused to think about it, I just couldn't wrap my head around it fully. To me, my true passion was undecided, but all that mattered was that I would be leaving my temporary beloved job as a secretary and worker with Mr. Rizzo, and finding something more suitable as my age increased.

So I went to work and kept quiet, speaking only when spoken to and making sure my resources were all available to Mr. Rizzo, who on a weekly, or even daily basis, would pace around his room anxiously and after a few minutes of leaving him to his thoughts, I would knock on his door. Then I would drop in a few croissants and a mug of pitch black coffee, something that soothed his fried nerves, and the pacing would stop as he graciously sighed and offered a tip of his head as a thanks.

My work, it seemed, was never over, and at times I wondered how long my occupation would last for me, but I realized shortly later every time that what I was doing was much more respectable and well-paid than what most women in Warren and some suburbs of Detroit were doing. While it seems hard balancing so many tasks and priorities placed before your own, I tended to sometimes receive lovely surprises while at work in the office, and today was one of those days.

Marshall had told me that he would be incredibly busy for the next few days Sunday morning over a telephone call, and I agreed that it was the right thing to not contact him until he contacted me, which he refused against, but I wouldn't budge my word. It was more important for him to handle all the tour details, and I made it clear to him that it was also important to me too, so reluctantly, he agreed, and he asked of me to text him when I had the opportunity. He most likely wouldn't be able to text back, but he said that just knowing I had thought about him enough to text him kept him motivated and eager to continue on and finish.

And that was why Sunday evening before I went to bed, I sent him an affectionate text, on Monday, I left him a voicemail, which he returned with another sappy voicemail, a good-night voicemail on Monday night, and a good morning text on Tuesday morning, before I took off for work. After I reached work and after a few hours of bustling about, I took a bathroom break, and noticed there was a new text from him on my phone, something I hadn't seen in quite a few days.

Him: Guess what, baby? :)

I immediately texted him back, butterflies dancing in my stomach giddily.