-Prisoner-
28
"Rique!!" I yell across the room. "Needs to up more- no puedo verlo."
"Bien, bien," he shakes his head and raises the sign about three more inches. "Yes?"
"Perfect! Thanks!" I blow him a kiss across the room.
"What about these?" Jane asks me, holding up the paper pumpkins. "Want these hangin'?"
"Um… doesn't matter- we could use 'em as table decos, too. Whatever you want."
God… I inhale deeply and look around. It's… coming along nicely. I *hope* this'll go well because Enrique ensured Randy that the decorations would be great. At least Ben's out of the frat though. They kicked his ass out for some underage sex ring he was into.
"Damn, can't believe Halloween's *here* already!"
"I know- seems like just yesterday we were movin' back into the dorms," she sighs. "I can't wait for Thanksgiving."
"Let's get through Halloween *first*. Okay?" I ask.
"'Kay," she answers and… I know she's thinkin' of something else.
"What?" I ask.
"I just… noticed that… it was… his birthday… couple weeks ago and… you never mailed the card."
"Snooping through my shit?" I accuse.
"No, no. I just… was cleanin' out the garbage and-"
"Not like I'm with him anymore. Why would I send him a card?"
"C'mon, Eva, cut the shit. You really *liked* him. And-"
"I'm with Enrique now, Jane. *Enrique*. And he's great!"
"Don't feed me a line, Eva Maria."
"GIVE IT UP!" I growl. Shit- she's been *pestering* me about it ever since we got back to school. "It was *two* *months* ago and-"
"And he was the first person you ever connected with and-"
"I've connected with a *lot* and I really don't think *you're* one to give relationship advice. I forget… what's your boyfriend's name?" I ask. Yes, it was cruel. Her and Kenny just broke up. Rather- *he* broke up with *her* for a girl who puts out.
"That was way harsh," she snaps.
"Then keep outta my business. I shoulda *never* tol' you 'bout him."
"Fine. I just- could see it in your eyes last semester. You were *happy*."
"I'm happy *now*," I insist just as Rique slips his arms around my waist and fastens his lips on my neck. "Hey, Baby," I moan, slipping arm up around his neck.
Jane just sighs and stomps off. "¿Qué es el problema?" He mutters.
"No sé," I whisper and turn in his arms to kiss him. I moan as his hand slips under my shirt and kneads one of my breasts. "More, Rique," I whimper. Shit. The more he sucks on my neck, the wetter I get. "Take me," I whisper in his ear.
"Tonight," he answers and steps away.
Fuck. He moves across the room to hang up more signs and FUCK. What the hell with this fuckin'… he *knows* he can't start me like that. Shit.
Fine.
And I swear- it's all afternoon that that throbbing just keeps me accutely aware of the fact that I wanna get fucked.
And getting myself off in the shower before the party really doesn't help. But- I put the little outfit on and glance in the mirror. Chamber maid for Halloween. Cute. Short, short, short skirt. Top that's ten sizes too tight. Heels and fishnet stockings. I put some really dark eye make-up on as well.
"Knock, knock," he asks as he comes in. "Damn, Girl. You *tryin'* to gimme a hard on?"
"That *is* the idea, ain't it?" I ask when he steps close to me. He looks good as a butler. "So- are people here yet?"
"A few. Comin' down?" He asks.
Fuck. I start stroking him through his pants, "comin' *up*?" I ask.
"Eva, no tenemos el tiempo ahora," he mumbles and starts for the door.
"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" I yell. "Never had a problem fucking me before! Then all of a sudden today- you don't wanna do anything to me?"
"OH I want to, Evita," he says, yanking my waist against him. He holds my ass and presses me against his cock. "Feel that? I *want* to. But- it's your party- you organized for us. Doncha wanna at least *see* it?"
"Fine, fine, but in an hour-"
"I promise." He grabs my hand and drags me down the stairs. The music is kickin' the new Nas song right now.
"EVA!" Randy catches up to us. "It's *great*- wonderful, really. Thanks. Ricky here was right," he says.
"You're welcome," I tell him and Rique drags me off to the bar.
Two beers later, I'm a bit… tipsy- buzzed and we've been sitting on the couch- me in his lap, talking with one of his friends- for the past twenty minutes with his hand drawing cirlces on my inner thigh. I've been squirming for the past five minutes and I grind my ass down into him. I swear- he wants to torture me. Doesn't realize how my body works.
Not that it's *bad*. But… Rique's not really interesting in *me*. He just wanted to say he's dating the brutally hot, former campus hoe. And that's okay with me. Not like he ain't good. And there is a certain… niceness- peace of mind- to not having to hunt for suitable guys. And he's brutually hot himself.
Not as hot as- NO.
Okay. I lean down and whisper in his ear, "You don't take me upstairs and drill me *now*, I'ma find someone else who will."
"Well, Eva and I gotta get going. We'll talk in class on Monday," he says hastily and drags me upstairs toward *the* room. Shit. "C'mon," he drags me into the entertainment room and the only thing I can notice in this room anymore is the pool table. Everyone thinks it's Ben's cum stain on it, but it's Eminem's. And mine.
Shit. Sometimes… I think I miss him.
Ohfuck. I groan as he starts rubbing my sex and pressing his palm into me. "Shit, Rique," I whimper before he attacks my mouth.
"Shit, Eva. You get me so hard. Your fuckin' body was *made* to fuck," he mumbles.
"Maybe we should lock the door," I grunt against his lips as his hands violently squeeze my tits. Shit.
"NO," he says and I watch as he takes his butler towel off his arm and smiles. "C'mere, 'Vita," he says and I shake my head but he yanks my hips to his. "You *know* you ain't gonna get fucked without it, Eva."
"Lock the door."
"You *know* you *like* the danger. Jane might walk in and you know it gets you hot. Doesn't it?" He asks as he kisses me deeply, using his tongue to pry my mouth open. Then, he ties the towel around my head tightly and I bite into the fabric. "Now," he drags me around the pool table and grumbles, "Bend over."
Shit- I'm so fuckin' *wet*. He pushes me over the table and fuck. "Cona," I whimper through the cloth.
"What?"
"*Con*-am-" I struggle to make the word.
"Oh- we don't need one this time, do we, Eva?" He says and I jump when he tears my g-string away from my skin. Ohfuck. Condom though- shit- the thought it lost on me when his finger starts digging into my clit, rubbing hard.
Ohfuck- I start whimpering and thrusting back toward him. I just… want him to fuck me.
"That's it," he growls. "You *know* you love when I fuck you." He thrusts three fingers inside me and I scream through the cloth. I start to slip a hand between my- "NO!" He shouts, grabbing he wrists and throwing them against the table. "Don't fuckin' *think* about it, Bitch. You only get what *I* give you. You *know* that."
Shit. I hear his pants fall to the floor and then I feel him rubbing his cock against me. Shit. I try to beg him through the fabric, push back against him. "Such a horny girl, Eva. Your mother know how fuckin' *horny* you are all the time?"
Yes. She does. But he doesn't know hardly anything about my family.
Then, he holds my hips still and slams into me, throwing my hips brutally against the edge of the pool table. Fuck. Over and over- he pounds into me. Fuck. I'm whimpering and I'd beg him to come, but I can't through the gag.
Not that I can't understand it because hey, if *I* was with my girlfriend one night and heard her moan another guy's name, I'd be pretty fuckin' pissed. Oh my god- he fucked me *so* hard *that* night. Tied me to the bed and gagged me and fucked me over and over, telling me I was his now.
So yeah- he's a bit… psycho. But- he fucks good. I guess. Doesn't ask me for something I can't give him and- "You still with me?" He growls, biting my neck.
"Uh huh," I whimper. Shit. He's just so-shit. He squeezes my clit and growls, "*Come*." And I do. Fuckin' *hell* I do but not because of anything *he* does. But because of the familiar eyes that I see staring at me.
Ohgod- the eyes. *His* eyes. Shit. Enrique hasn't noticed that someone opened the door. Fuck *I* didn't even notice when it opened. He just bites my neck again and slams me into the pool table once more before screaming and spilling his load inside me. Shit. Condom. I *knew* I had a point earlier.
Fuck. He falls limply on top of me and when I look up again, the door is closed and the eyes are gone. And I wonder if I even saw them at all.
Wouldn't be the first time I imagined them.
29
"Shit, Eva. You're fuckin' *amazing*," he whispers as he unties the fabric from around my mouth and falls to my side. I glance at the clock. Four am. "I swear, I could fuck you all night."
"Not again," I whimper. "I'ma be sore in the morning as it is."
"I know, no more," he says. "Night," he adds before turning over and I do the same. We never cuddle.
Like I said- we just fuck.
And there was a time, not too long ago, when I thought that would be enough.
Now? I'm not so sure but I'm too tired to think about it too much.
When I wake up, he's gone and that's fine. That's how I prefer it. Don't get me wrong- I really like him. He's nice and he's never called me a whore or anything and he doesn't question the whole white-latin thing and he's attractive and makes me come.
But we've been together for a month and a half and he hasn't asked me *anything* about my family or friends or anything. But that's fine.
While I shower, I think of those eyes last night. I mean… fuck- it's not the first time I thought I saw him. But… last night was… different. I thought. I mean- last night- was the first time I saw *pity* in them. But I went looking for him and couldn't find him anywhere. And Nate- he's pretty much clueless. Marshall didn't wanna tell his brother that we were together 'cause he didn't want it spreading at school too much and didn't want… come to think of it- I don't know. He had reasons at the time and I didn't really care too much.
But pity and pain? Usually I just see… love. But- they were… hurt.
God. Things are soo fucked. *I'm* so fucked.
"Morning, Janey," I sing, walking into our room. But… the look on her face is… "What's wrong?"
"OH my god- you didn't hear?" She asks, terror in her eyes.
"What?"
"It's… there's been an accident."
"What?!" I ask, suddenly feeling the need to hold myself up. God- "Is it… what?"
"A car accident. Last night- he's…"
"WHAT?!" I scream.
"Dead, Eva. He's… he died."
My legs give out from under me and I fall to the floor helplessly. I'm numb. I can't… feel anything. I *know* who she's talking about.
"It's been all over the news-"
"How?" How could this… I mean… god…
"Guess he was visiting his brother last night and was driving home- too fast. Car came out of nowhere and-"
She goes on to talk but I don't hear her. I don't… hear anything. I just… stare at the poster of him I've kept on my wall and - god. It was *my* fault.
He *did* see. He *was* there. He saw me… and Rique… on the pool table. *Our* pool table- he saw me let Rique do those things to me and- god. It's *my* fault and…
"How could this happen?" I whisper.
"I'm sorry," Jane says with a few tears on her cheek. "But… least you weren't in love with him or anything."
"WHAT?" I scream at her. "What the fuck does THAT mean?"
"What? You were just fucking him anyway, right?"
Ohgod. And that's what he *thought* too. He thought… I was just a whore- fucking him, fucking *anyone* on that table. That I didn't care… fuck.
He *died* because of *me*. His little girl is *fatherless* because *I* was too *chicken* *shit* to tell him I-
"All I'm saying is that it's not like you really cared for him- 'cause you were just fucking him. Not like he made you *happy*- or loved you…"
"But he did," I tell her. "He *did* love me. He told me so. And-"
"And what?" She asks, kneeling in front of me.
Ohgod. "And I never got to tell him that I…" I sigh and can't control the tears from my eyes. "I loved him too." Ohgod. I did. I *really* *did*.
I just didn't know… couldn't say…
God- what have I done?
"So go *tell* him that, Eva."
"What?" I look up at her.
She holds my phone up to me and I hear it ringing. "Hello?"
OH GOD! IT'S… HIM?!
30
My fingers grip the wheel of Jane's car tightly. I'm going *way* too slow for my tastes- but if I speed- *I'll* have the accident.
Ohgod. I still… my body's *still* trembling from what she- god.
I just… keep running those few seconds over and over in my head.
"*Hello*?" He repeated. "Fine," he practically growled. <Click.>
"Jane what is-"
"Wake the fuck *up*, Girl," she said. "Before you *actually* lose your chance."
"What the- huh?" I wiped my tears and she threw me her keys.
"*Go* to him. *Tell* him you love him and that you're fucked up and are sorry for fucking *him* up and-"
I know. Honestly? I'm *not* sorry I fucked him up. I'm sorry I fucked him *over*- but fucking him *up* was… nothing if not pleasurable.
So here I am. Doing what exactly?
Pulling into his driveway. That's what. I feel like this is one of those… 'running through the field of daises toward each other' type things. Like- I'll walk in and he'll be standing in the kitchen and I'll say, "I'm sorry. I was a pussy and a coward. And I've… let men do things to me… because I thought it was- what I could have, what I deserved. And when someone finally told me different- I ran. But… I love you." And then he'll run toward me and we'll smash into each other's arms and he'll kiss me and we'll make love right on the kitchen floor. And on the stairs. And in the hallway upstairs. And on the floor near his bed. And finally in his bed. And later in the shower.
Sadly though- that won't happen. Because he's not in the kitchen when I open the door.
There *is* however, three empty bottles of Bacardi on the counter and one on the floor.
God- he's… drinking. A *lot* apparently. Obviously- because he saw what he saw. Jane told me she saw him running from downstairs- surprised to see him. She stopped him and he'd told her what he'd seen and- she said he was *really* torn up about it.
Hailie's not with him this week though- that's why he was up visiting Nate. I guess Nate and Debbie had a throw down fight and he needed his brother. And then he wanted to escape the party and- he found *me*- being fucked five ways from Sunday, gagged and bitten.
God… *I* feel like downing a bottle of Bacardi.
Well- if he's drunk or passed out- it's a good thing I *didn't* send back the key or make him feel the need to change all the security codes- because he's probably not in a state of mind to walk to a door.
Ohgod- *please* don't let him have done something stupid. He wouldn't… hurt himself- would he? No- he loves Hailie too much to do that to her.
Well… if I were *drunk*- I might be in bed so I leave my jacket and quasi-dirty sneakers in the kitchen, along with my purse and keys and walk up the stairs. "Marshall?" I ask softly.
I open the door to his bedroom quietly and he's got all the blinds down and it's pretty damn dark in his room- almost like a night of a full moon.
He's… either blacked out… or he's napping. "Marsh?" I ask softly, but he doesn't respond.
He *is* however, laying half-naked there and I can see his chest rising and falling. So… I *know* he's alive, which is always good.
When confessing your love for someone- they should always be alive.
Well… shit. I don't know what to do. I *want* to tear my clothes off and wake him with a fuck- but… that would *severely* be overstepping my rights in this situation.
Driving here… gave me a *lot* of time to think.
So… instead, I thank Dios that he's on top of the covers, half-naked, and slowly crawl up his body. I'm straddling his boxer-covered thighs when he opens his eyes, just barely.
"Huh?" He groggily grunts, mild alarm starting to register in his voice.
"Shh," I whisper. "It's just *me*, Eva."
"Eva?" he asks sleepily opening his eyes more. "What are you- *doing* here?"
I have no idea what to say- so I lean down and kiss his lips tenderly before saying, "I love you."
"What?!" He asks a bit louder.
"I love you," I say and kiss his lips again. God- it's… feels so good to say. "I love you," I repeat and kiss his nose. "I love you," I repeat and kiss his cheek, and say it again and kiss the other cheek. "I *love* you," I whisper in his ear before kissing that too.
"WHAT?" He asks again, much louder… and in the little light- I can see his eyes- they're *huge* wild with… disbelief? Anger?
I sigh and kiss his lips again softly before saying, "I *love* you, Marsh. I *really* *really* do."
"Few fucks too late, don'cha think?" Is his response.
31
And I'm *about* to say something like- shove it up your ass and blow it- but I don't. Because in all honesty? I think I deserve that.
Although this isn't *exactly* how I'd like this to have gone… I can't blame him for being skeptical.
"And furthermore," he says, "Why the *fuck* are you in *my* bed? Doncha wanna be bound and gagged in your *new* guy's bed? God- how the fuck could you let him-" He pushes me off him and stumbles a bit to get up. He turns on a light and stares at me. "How could you let him… *do* that to you? The things he said… and-"
"Marshall, I'm so sorry. I… I don't have all the answers." I get off his bed because suddenly, I don't think I'm welcome there anymore. He's too angry and I really can't blame him. *How* many times have I trampled on his heart? After telling him Kim didn't know how to treat him and claiming *I* did?
"I have no excuse. I just… needed to tell you- wanted you to know and-"
"What brought this about? Huh? Gonna say whacha gotta say so as not to be gagged?"
"I said your name," I say softly.
"What?" He asks, confused.
"I said your name- one time- the *second* time with Enrique. I said *your* name when I came and… that's when he started using the gag."
"And you *let* him? Let him… treat you that way? And you *wanted* it- you let him *do* it- you… liked it. Like being called 'bitch' and being… dominated like that- cruely? Being bruised? That's why you don't wanna be with me?"
"No," I say, biting back the tears. "Marshall- you… god- you *saw* me last night. Did I look happy? No. I… all I can think about is *you*. All I *want* is *you*."
"But you'll take what you can get when I'm not around, is that it? 'Cause I got news for ya, I travel. A *lot*," he informs me, snatching up a pair of black Nike pants.
God- it all sounded *so* good in my head. *So* good in my head on the way over here and now I just can't get it *out* in a way that makes sense.
But perhaps I've finally pushed him too far. One thing to *know* I'm fucking around, but to *see* it? To *hear* it?
"I thought… Enrique was… different- nice. And he was- *is*. He's just… I mean- it's just physical. Beyond that there's nothing. No feelings- no nothing- just a way to get out."
"Doncha mean get *off*?"
"No," I shake my head. "I mean get *out*… escape from my body- this… *prison* that keeps me like this- that won't let my heart out- that won't let me *feel* beyond pain and I don't know why I'm like this, Em. I have no *idea*. It's not like I had this… horrid childhood or anything- no traumatic experiences… no rapes or anything. My parents… they loved me. I just didn't *see*."
I stop talking for a second and he looks like he's *listening*- like it's making a difference. So I continue… to ramble.
"Maybe it's this whole… identity *thing*… like… I couldn't be white and I couldn't be latina- but… when you're- when I'm with a guy and we're fucking- it doesn't *matter*. It disappears- fades away. *I* fade away and become nothing but- sex. And sex *isn't* black or white or latin. It… transcends race or religion."
"That's-"
"Please- lemme finish what I came to say. Then I'll leave." He nods and I take a deep breath. "I don't have to be 'Eva'- I don't even have to *know* who she is when I'm fucking a guy. My body just… disappears- and- didn't you *see*? You ask me how I could let him do that to me? How I- I've let men do things to me- that I despise- that I hate. I've acted like a whore- but… when it's happening- it's not me. I cease to exist."
God… I shoulda told him this- a long time ago- shoulda told him *all* this- but… I couldn't tell it to myself. I didn't *know* I was a prisoner. I didn't wanna be free.
"But- that all stopped- when I was with you. You didn't- *don't*- care about a latin Eva or a white Eve. You didn't care about any of it- who I was- what languages I speak… nothing. You just- saw *me*. And for the first time *ever*- I did too.
"I like who I am with you. I like being with you and knowing I'm *there*- feeling you and talking with you and knowing it's not some show. I can be myself and not feel ashamed about it and can tell you what I need and-" God. I'm shaking and crying and… I don't have the strength for this. I fall to my knees, two feet in front of him and stare at the floor. I just- I can't look at him. I don't wanna know- worry about if he believes me or not. I just… I have to say it.
"I dreamt about you- most every night- thought I saw your eyes- haunting me. I'd see them in the shower- looking at me- get myself off to them when Jane wasn't around. God- I was a pussy. I was a *coward*. But- everything was happening so fast- and Hailie was there and… you're so normal with her- natural. I don't know what to do with a kid. I've never been *around* one before and you wanted me to… leave stuff and- it was- it freaked me out. And then- with the marriage talk- and kids again- I'm twenty years old. I wasn't even thinking about a relationship until a year ago."
I sigh and stare at my finger. It's been *so* empty all these… weeks. Sixty-one days.
"I just- don't know- didn't know- how to handle it. And I thought we'd… settled it and you brought it up again and- god… I'm so fuckin'… stupid. I know *nothing* about this shit. Surprise! You were the first *boyfriend* I ever had. And maybe I *would* get married- in a few years… but I don't *know* that. I'm not *like* you- I was never determined to have a family or kids."
God- this is going *nowhere*.
"So I've been miserable and… Enrique- he was just… something to do. A way to pass the time and safer than passing it with twenty different guys. And he *is* nice. But- he's not you and I don't *like* that numb feeling anymore. I *thought* I could just… be okay with that- just the physical, but… you've *ruined* me- for other men. Made me think sex had to come with… feelings and passion and love. I just… didn't *know* what I was feeling. I'd never *felt* it.
"Until earlier, this morning. Jane- she… told me you were dead, when I got home this morning. She told me you'd died in a car accident, but at least I didn't care about you and I… realized that- I never got to tell you how much I *love* you and… I wanted to tell you. Even if it was just once."
Okay. I'm gonna stop now because… well, because I've said my piece.
And at least he knows. And… if he kicks my ass out- I'll know I tried.
32
"Look at me," he says, but I don't. I don't wanna know- don't wanna see the hate in his eyes. Just tell me to leave and I'll be gone. I close my eyes, waiting for the words.
But they don't come. Instead, I feel him fall to his in front of me and places a finger on my chin and forces me to look up, but my eyes are still closed and I am *completely* shocked when I feel his lips press softly against mine.
Ohgod.
"Now… let me say *my* piece," he says. I nod. "*I* was dumb- not to… understand. Or to push- it's just… I never thought I *would* want those things again. I got a divorce and my *life* fell apart. That was the hardest things I've ever done. I swore I wouldn't go *through* that again. And I wasn't *going* to do it again.
"Wouldn'ta been too hard neither, since I didn't think I'd meet someone like you- someone who didn't care who I was. I mean… fuck- I'm just… a scrawny white kid from Detroit. And I know all those fuckin' people- my fans, the media- no one would give a rats ass 'bout me otherwise. No one would give me a second glance if I wasn't 'Eminem'.
"I mean… I'm not *hot*- fuck… half the time I ain't even *cute*. If they knew the *real* me- if they knew *Marshall*, not the album Marshall, but *me*- they wouldn't buy no more records. I never expected to even *want* to get married again- 'cause all the fuckin' girls- they… want *him*. Eminem, Slim Shady- album Marshall- they'd *never* want that scrawny white kid from Detroit."
I look in his eyes and just… still- after all these years- those things his mother always said to him *still* haunt him.
"But- you're different. I believe you *do*- that you *would*- want that scrawny white kid from Detroit- the dorky, nerdy kid who read comic books every second he could, who was always sketchin' in his school books when he was in class."
He takes a deep breath and I touch his face hesitantly at first and practically sob when he leans against it and I brush his lips with my thumb.
"I'm sorry," he says after a second. "I guess- I was just… so excited- to have found that- someone that I can be *me* with. To tell you the truth… I've *never* felt like you're here with 'Eminem'. It's never even been an *issue*. And at first- I guess I was a junkie for that feeling. But… the more time we spent just talking and… sittin' at my kitchen table telling jokes- or watchin' TV… I'm just *me* and you're you and… I just… wanted it *all* before I lost it."
Ohgod. We're *both* crying now. "And I may be a bit drunk," he adds and we both laugh as our lips find each other. I hold his face gently in my hands and feel him do the same as we kiss softly, just enjoying the feeling of each other again. *No* one can kiss me like he can. *Nadie*.
I sigh against his lips as the kiss ends. "So… you'll still have me?" I ask him softly.
"If you'll still have *me*," he answers.
"I *totally* will," I say before pulling him toward me and we hug each other tightly. God- I thought I'd lost him. I thought… god- I guess I can't be bad at Jane since she got me *here*- she gave me *this*.
"C'mon," he says, pulling me to my feet with him. He pulls my shirt up off my body and kisses me again, sweetly. "I'm… tired. And… a bit hungover."
We crawl into his bed and he pulls me against him. I drape my arm over his waist and rub his back a little bit. God- I've missed him. I kiss his chin as he closes his eyes. "Sleep well, Baby," I whisper and he just nods. I close my eyes too.
I stretch languidly against his body and feel him place a hand over my belly. "Morning."
"Or afternoon?" I groan.
"Yeah. I… thought it was a dream- but… you're here."
"Yeah," I nod.
"OH! I FORGOT!" He *leaps* out of bed. "I got you a present! BEFORE! But… didn't get to give it to you." He runs over to his dresser and pulls a tape out. "Here!"
"Homemade porn?" I ask hopefully. *That* would be hot.
"Um… no- but… save that thought. Just… watch it!" I sigh and walk over to the VCR and pop it in before pressing play.
I sit on the edge of the bed and- he gave me a movie of the desert?
I don't- "Yo, is these outfits cool or what? Moms would laugh her fuckin' *ass* off," a familiar voice says and- the camera pans over and-
"EEEEEEEEE!!!" I squeal and tackle him. "YOU! OH MY GOD! WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?!" I demand.
"Friends with Dr. Dre, here. He- was cleanin' out some shit and mentioned he had it and-"
"OH MY GOD! THIS IS THE BEST PRESENT EVER!" I yell and kiss his face ten times before turning back to the television.
"Should I be concerned? About this… obsession?"
"If Pac was still alive? Yes," I inform him. "Now shh- I can't hear your *voice* while I watch."
Oh my god- my… mind can't catch up with this. He… this is… like… the unofficial making of the California Love video! Oh my god! Like… never before seen footage of Tupac! HOLY SHIT!
I sit mesmerized for an hour and twenty minutes until the tape goes fuzzy. OH my god. I turn around to him and stalk toward him across the bed like a predator. "*You* are about to get *very* lucky," I inform him.
"*Am* I now?"
"*Oh* *yeah*," I tell him before climbing on top of him. "That was like… the *best* present *ever*! I… wow- that was-"
"Again- should I be worried?"
"No," I shake my head. "Not anymore." I'm *his*.
I lean forward to kiss him and <Ring ring. Ring ring.> FUCK! His phone *would* ring!
He leans over and grabs the phone. "'lo?" I kiss his neck a bit. "Oh- shit. I forgot- sorry. I… yeah I got… distracted. Yeah… right. No, no- I'll be down. I promise. Aiight. See ya- yeah yeah… I'll be there."
I sigh and sit up to look down at him. "You gotta go?"
"You can… come? I forgot- we booked 54 today. We're workin' on the next D12 song. Do ya… wanna come? Meet the guys?"
"Yeah," I nod. I do. I really do.
Part 8
Author: crazyevildru@yahoo.com
Back to fan fiction indexThese stories are for entertainment purposes only. They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character. No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.