SERIES ONE. CHPTR 1

868 5 0
                                    

ONE.

Okay, this is sort of an 8 mile story more than a factual Eminem one.

I stood in the front row, it was amazing. It always was. The full crowd. Knowing everyone is here for the same passion as you, the same love of the underground music.

Outside, it was freezing. Middle of a Detroit winter, perhaps the coldest in a decade. Definitely the coldest since 1990. But in here the vibe alone was enough to warm you...plus all the people packed into this somewhat small building kinda brought up the heat.

I came down here most Weekends. A couple friends of mine introduced me to the rap scene a couple years back and I was instantly hooked. Of course for the first few months I copped a fair bit of slack for being a little white girl but after a while the jokes sort of stopped after I consistently turned up for the battles. I wasn't in then, hell - I can't rap to save my life. But I did enjoy watching. Nothing like the raw emotion that was put into all the quick thought out verses. The disses. The whole atmosphere, I loved it.

"Alright" the usual guy who ran the battles, Proof, called into the mic "that's it for this weekend Detroit. Now get your asses out and like I say every fuckin' week. No fuckin' fights"

Everyone slowly moved either to the back of the building where the guys performing set up or trudged out into the cold. My friends and I doing the latter. It was probably only 10pm but I had shit to do in the morning, so now was a good time to head off.

Wincing at the thought of how cold it's ACTUALLY going to be once I get out to the road, I started off. Home was probably 4 miles from here. But whatever. Tiff!" I heard my friend, Veronica, call.
I turned to see her jogging across the empty lot where most people parked. Her little pink, velvet bag in hand. "Where you goin' girl? We gonna get some drinks. Thought you'd be in?!"
I shook my head. "Nah, not tonight."
"Oh come on" she pouted, "you know I only get one night off a week" she was right. She worked down at the bar we usually went to, either to see her or to get cheap drinks because we knew her. But I really couldn't. Not tonight.

"Suit yourself." She shrugged. "I'll ring you tomorrow if you're gonna be home. Before I clock on"

I nodded and waved as she jogged back off towards a small group of guys. Veronica had a habit of finding a new man every week. Not that I judged, as long as she didn't get herself shot or stabbed.

PUKE. - Eminem/8 mile fanfic. Where stories live. Discover now