Eminem Fan Fiction Shorts II

Mr. Mathers' Bad Night?

It was a cold, rainy November night and I was standing by the side of the road as I moved through my phone to get a ride. I'd just been hanging around downtown, walking the streets to try to ease some restlessness, when the skies started to drizzle. I was hitting the app, entering some data when an asshole driving too close to the side of the sidewalk doused me from head to toe.

I shouted profanities at the driver, pissed almost beyond measure. Shaking my head, I looked back to my phone, finding the screen a dire blank. I swiped at it, clicked the side button, and poked at the home button, but all I got was a black, unresponsive screen. At least until I got somewhere dry, I had nothing better than an expensive paper weight in my hands.

I stuffed it in my pocket, looking around. There was an overhang jutting out from an old building half a block from me, so I started walking that way as shivers started wracking my body. It had been cold before I'd been drenched. Now, it was freezing.

As I made it under the overhang, I noted that the doors were locked and there was a call button to the side. I could try to ask for help, but it was after eleven o'clock. No sane person was going to open the door to a stranger at this time of night.

Just as I was deciding to give it a shot anyway, I heard the distinctive sound of a car approach. I turned to see a young woman, probably just a few years older than Hailie, getting out of a car. Before I could say anything, the car drove off, leaving her to walk toward the door.

In the orange glow of the street light, I could see that she had dark, probably auburn hair. It hung down her back, looking like it might have been curled at one point. She was curvy and short and wearing all black clothing. When she looked up, her face was heart shaped and her eyes were a large, confused hazel.

"Oh my God!" She cried, and I cringed. I didn't really want to sign autographs or take pictures right now. I just wanted to get warm and dry. She ran up to me, looking me over.

"You're soaked!" She said, stating the obvious with concern. "Come inside," she demanded and then moved over to the door, entering the code and opening it for me to enter.

I frowned slightly, but I wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth, so I nodded my thanks and stepped through to the lobby of the building. I pulled my hood back but kept my hat on as I looked around. The woman, meanwhile, moved over to the mailboxes to the side and pulled out hers as she glanced over her shoulder.

"Sorry, this will just take a sec." She said and I looked around. I was the only one here, so she had to be talking to me.

I watched as she struggled slightly with the mailbox. I was right about her hair – it was a deep auburn and it glistened where the rain had fallen upon it. Her shoes dripped a little from the water outside, but otherwise, she looked perfectly comfortable in the emo-like clothes she had on. Once she had her mail she turned back to me with a bubbly, large smile.

"All set. Let's get you taken care of, yeah?" She asked and I cocked my head at her.

"Uh, what?" I asked. She walked over, her expression open and inviting. I couldn't call her gorgeous, but she was definitely pretty. She also had this vibe about her that was enticing.

"You're shivering. Let's get you something dry so you can heat back up." She said and I still looked at her, dumbfounded. She twisted her lips and shook her head.

"Look, you're not a serial killer, are you?" I shook my head. "Not a rapist?" I shook it again. "Are you going to beat me up?" Another shake.

"Great," she said triumphantly. "Then there's no reason not to help you and every reason," she said as her hands panned my form, "to help you." She concluded. She put a thumb over her shoulder toward the elevator.

"Come on up and we'll see if I have some clothes you can put on and then you can warm up." She demanded and I nodded.

"Alright," I said slowly.

I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. She hadn't said anything to me about who I was. In fact, I had the distinct impression that she didn't know. If that were the case, then she was inviting a total stranger to come up to her place without any reason to know that he wouldn't cause her harm other than his word. It was surreal.

She smiled at me, nearly bouncing on her feet in response to my acceptance and moved her way to the elevator. She lived on the fifth floor, at the end of a dimly lit hallway. When we got to her door, she opened it and gestured for me to enter.

I've seen a lot of small spaces in my time, but this place was tiny. It wasn't a studio apartment; I could see a door off the living room that blended with the open floor kitchen, but the area I could see was probably the size of my office at the studio.

"I'm going to-" she started to speak before she dropped her shoulders and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself." She said sheepishly as she put a hand out. "I'm Jackie."

"Uh, Marshall." I said, clasping her hand. Her fingers were small and her palm smooth in mine.

"Nice to meet you, Marshall." She said, a smile bubbling back up to her face. Forget Wendy, the woman was the human embodiment of champagne: bubbly, bright, and subtly intoxicating.

"I think I have a friend's clothes around here that might fit you. Just hang tight." She said and I nodded, moving around the small space.

The air was heavy with some kind of fragrance, a mismatch that was pleasant and inviting, though difficult to pin down. There was no T.V. out here. Instead, as I walked the tiny floor of her living room, I found myself looking at some impressively dark and twisted drawings and illustrations of comic book heroes and villains. The frames covered an entire wall from about six inches above the ground to the ceiling, each in a distinct style that was gritty and fascinating.

"Here you are," she offered.

I turned to find her walking toward me with clothing in hand. Her foot caught on the upturn of the circular rug on the ground, though, and she stumbled into me. My hands caught her at the arms as she released a grunt. She looked up into my eyes, her hazel ones filled with laughter.

"Sorry, I don't always know where my feet are." She said, stepping away and taking her warmth with her. She extended her arms and jogged her head behind her.

"Why don't you go change?"