INFINITE (Eminem Fan Fiction)

Chapter 3: Fast Lane

Chapter 3: Fast Lane

Riley couldn't believe she was getting off the plane in LA. Mark was still running his mouth, from the time they got on the plane, the whole trip and now as they were arriving. In fact, he'd talked so much, the people in surrounding seats had given her awful stares. But there was nothing unusual there. Mark's mouth was always getting them both into trouble. He'd been instructing her on how to act, what to say... all important stuff but after nearly two hours her brain had switched off. Mark was acting like she'd never worked with anybody famous before, which was completely untrue. Maybe he was just nervous... maybe she should be too?

Grabbing her bag from the compartment above and wheeling it behind her, she followed Mark off the plane, past a 'far-too-perky' flight attendant. As they stepped out onto the tarmac, she was hit with the evening breeze, sun setting on the horizon behind them. She couldn't hear whatever Mark was talking about over the sounds of the jet and just ignored him as they walked inside of the terminal.

"-and that's why you have to remain professional at all times," Mark finished, sounding like he'd finally ended his four hour rant.

"Right," Riley returned, hardly wanting to ask what she'd missed. Mark seemed to know exactly where he was going as he led her through the airport and straight out into a black car, already waiting for them. As the car pulled away, Riley practically turned into a little kid, spending most of the car ride with her face practically against the window, staring out into the city of LA.

She'd never been to the west coast before and it was a real sight to see. Like Miami, the sun was shining, just not as hot. The people looked happy and full of life. But she supposed as a tourist, everything looks great. Just like Miami, if you spent enough time there, you saw the dark side. Just like any city or country or even person. Too much optimism always got in her way.

Finally glancing away from the window, she noticed Mark was looking a little tense. "You look more nervous than me."

Mark shrugged, "Paul and I have been friends for a long time. But he was always more successful than me."

Riley pulled a coy smile, "Come on, Mark. You're meant to be my rock."

He snickered, "That's the last time I'm getting vulnerable with you."

"Don't be like that," She sighed. "It'll be fine. I'm sure I'll perform well and you... do whatever managers do well."

He rolled his eyes but Riley could see his small smile. Mark's phone beeped and he pulled it out, examining the screen like it was a crime scene. After a minute he looked back at her. "Up for a play date?"

Riley cracked a laugh, "A what?"

Mark elaborated, and thank god for that. "I told Paul we landed. He wants to know if you want to work with Eminem for couple of hours. He figured you two would want a run through the scene a little bit before filming."

Riley's face fell, "What? No sightseeing?" She was genuinely disappointed. They'd planned on spending the whole afternoon visiting the Hollywood Sign and walking down the famous shopping strips. She hadn't spent time working.

Mark pouted, sarcastically. "Oh no... I have to do a scene for a music video with a famous rapper. Whatever will I do? I wanted to spend my evening frolicking in LA."

Riley folded her arms over her chest, "Don't make it sound so unreasonable. Tell him it sounds good and I'll be there."

Mark nodded and started typing back on his mobile. She heard him mutter under his breath, "And she thinks I'm the childish one..."

Marshall could hardly feel his feet as he crashed down onto the hotel sofa, sinking into the plush pillows with a sigh. It'd been such a long day. He'd been up at six, at the MTV station at seven for an interview at eight. Then he'd gone straight to a photo shoot. Missing lunch, much to his disgust, he and Paul had then gone to a program meeting about the 'Criminal' music video. Even though it was only five by the time he'd crashed back in his hotel room, he was exhausted.

He was just thinking about how nice it was to be in some peace and quiet when his ringtone went off, again. And it was Paul, again. Surprise, surprise. Hitting the receiver, he merely grunted instead of a 'hello'.

"Better look good, boy," Paul's booming voice said, far too loudly. "I got Riley Stuart coming to your hotel room at six. I thought it'd be best if you ran through the scene a few times, worked out a few major kinks, see how she does."

"At six?" Marshall clarified. "That's in an hour."

Paul smirked, "Then you better get your shit together. Oh, and make sure your room doesn't look like a bomb's gone off. I saw it this morning. Did you throw your suitcase around the room or something?"

"Sorry, mum, but housecleaning fixed it anyway," He returned, bitterly. The last thing he wanted right now was to work. He'd had such a full on day, it hardly seemed fair for him to have to go over a tiny scene. Even if it was with a hot chick.

"I know you'll make a good impression," Paul insisted. "As I mentioned, her manager is a friend of mine so try not to be an asshole."

"No promises." Marshall cut the connection and threw the phone over his head. From the lack of a crashing sound, he could only guess it landed on the immaculate king sized bed. Rubbing his hands over his face, he drew in a deep breath. A dirty smell hit his nose and he retracted his hands. And "spontaneously" decided he needed a shower.

Stripping off on the way to the bathroom, he slammed the door shut and hoped that maybe the hot shower would make him feel better.