Don't Wanna Try
Chapter 4
Sighing, Vanessa slammed her apartment door shut and collapsed on the sofa. It wasn’t that the day was particularly difficult or tiring, but constantly having to be on the defensive was a bit wearing on her mental state. She wasn’t sure what to make of her boss; at first, she felt relieved as he had seemed relatively normal in terms of businessmen, but then his casualness had a disconcerting effect on her—she wasn’t sure whether to mimic it or continue her manners.
In all honesty, while casualness should make her more comfortable, it did the complete opposite; instead, it put her on edge and tense. She was better prepared for politeness than she was for anything else. If her attitude was any indication, certainly being able to chalk everything up to manners was far easier than allowing pieces of herself to emerge in an effort to emit a sense of ease. He was her boss, not her friend; that was one of the prominent reasons for why it was much harder to be friendly and casual with him right off the bat.
Perhaps, she thought, that once they had worked together for a few weeks, they’d be able to develop a sort of sociable relationship. However, that solely depended upon his behavior towards her during that time period. She would be reluctant to endure him acting rude or arrogant, despite having her fair share of overconfident bosses and superiors. It was his field of work that bothered her most, that simple fact that he was a musician and worked for the industry.
She needed someone to talk to; someone who’d understand. Feeling good about her decision, she rapidly dialed the familiar number and waited for them to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Mom?”
“Honey,” she replied sweetly.
“Hey, how are you?”
“Just fine, is everything all right?”
“Mostly.”
“What’s bothering you, honey?” her mother asked.
“Ugh, it’s this new job,” Vanessa let out a groan of frustration. “I’m working for Eminem.”
There was no response from her mother.
“Mom?”
“Give me a sec, I’m trying to think. Oh, yes, Eminem. He’s that white rapper, right?”
Vanessa closed her eyes and gathered up her patience. “Yes, that’s him. Isn’t it Jonathan’s favorite rapper?”
“Oh, I remember now. I just bought him some poster of the man, I think.”
“I’m sure. I just hate working for him.”
“Why, honey?”
“It’s the industry—that whole entertainment business that I hate. He’s a huge part of it, Mom.”
“I thought you’d put all that behind you,” her mother commented thoughtfully.
“I wish I could.”
“It’s not the business’ fault for what happened.”
“The hell it wasn’t!” Vanessa exclaimed.
“Watch your language!”
“Sorry,” Vanessa muttered. “I’m not against the actual musicians, but the men who play big behind the scenes. The men who milk their artists for all they’re worth. Who drain their talent and demand more after they’ve sucked them dry.”
“At least you’re not blaming everyone.”
“Mom—“
“No, you listen to me, honey, nobody was at fault for what happened. Nobody. You wanna blame someone? You blame me.”
“You know I’d never blame you.”
“You’re your father’s daughter.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing,” Vanessa replied dryly.
“It’s both, honey.”
“I think my friend’s here, Mom. I’ll call you in a few days; bye,” Vanessa said hurriedly and put the receiver back into its cradle.
There were no friends at the door. It was a ruse, a quick way of stopping a conversation that Vanessa and her mother had had time and time again—a conversation they both hated to repeat.
“I wish you were still around, Dad,” she said to herself. “I miss you.”
Chapter 5Author: zines@aol.com
These 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.