Queen Bee

May 2003 (1)

It was the night before Marshall left to Chiba and I was feeling like an absolute fuckin' wreck. All week I've felt anxious, sad, angry, and every emotion in between. I just don't know what to even do with myself at this point. Marshall wont listen to me, the kids just keep getting more and more sad as the day approaches, and I'm just tryna put on a brave face for them, but it's fuckin' horrifying. I already feel like I have no support even when he is home, him touring on a completely different fuckin' continent is just gonna make everything so much worse, and I know for a fact it will. If I'm feeling this strained tension between us now, lord knows how I'm gonna feel while he's gone. 

To make matters worse, we haven't even talked about him leaving since January! Neither of us have wanted to touch that conversation since then, and I think it's just making the whole thing that much harder. Not to mention, he leaves tomorrow and he ain't even fuckin' home! He told me he was supposed to be at the studio all day, but it's midnight and he's still nowhere to be found. His plane leaves at 9am sharp, where the fuck is he?! 

After another half an hour or so went by, I heard the front door open and slam shut as I sat on my comfy spot on the couch with my feet kicked up onto the coffee table. "Yo!" He yelled loudly before I listened to what sounded like him stumbling around a few times. 

"Shh!" I exclaimed as loudly as I could while still being quiet. Moments later I saw from the corner of my eye him turn into the living room. 

"Why ya up so late?" He slurred, plopping himself down beside me. Ah. That's what he's been doin' for the last however many hours instead of spending time with his family. Of course. 

I shrugged. "Wanted to wait for ya." 

A drunk grin washed over his lips. "Yeah? Come here, then." Throwing his arm around my neck, he began to lean forward to start kissing my jaw. 

Immediately smelling the alcohol on his breath, I instinctually pulled away from him. "Ugh, Marshall ya reek like beer and weed." I whined. 

"Yeah? So? Ya ain't never cared before." Shrugging, I kept my eyes focused on the glaring TV. "Aight, what is it? What's ya problem now?" He spat, removing his arm from around me. 

I sighed, bringing my attention towards him. "What do ya think it is, Marshall?" I asked calmly, mainly due to the overwhelming amount of exhaustion I was already feeling. 

"I don't know, Angel! It could be fuckin' anything at this point! I'm high, I'm drunk, I stayed out too late, I leave tomorrow," he yelled as he began counting on his fingers. "Which is it?!"

"It's all of them, Marshall!" I yelled back, sharply snapping my head towards him. "It's all of them! Ya already know I'm upset 'bout you leavin', why the fuck are ya out so late?! Why the fuck are ya comin' home drunk as hell when you have a 9am flight?! Ya don't think, Marshall! That's why! You're so fuckin' busy actin' like a goddamn high school kid that ya completely forgot you got kids who woulda loved to see you tonight before ya leave!" 

"Yo I'ma fuckin' see 'em in the mornin' before I go!" 

"Are ya?! Or are ya just 'gon get fuckin' high and forget?!" 

"Y'know, Angel, ya ain't want me to go so bad why don't you fuckin' make an album for a change, huh?!" 

Instantly, my eyes widened. "ARE YA FUCKIN' SERIOUS, MARSHALL?!" I screamed, completely forgetting about all the sleeping children who were just upstairs. 

"YEAH! MAKE A FUCKIN' ALBUM AND I WONT HAVE TO WORK SO HARD TRYNA FUCKIN' FEED US ALL!" 

"AS IF I HAVEN'T BEEN BEGGIN' YA TO TAKE DES TO THE STUDIO WITH YOU SO I CAN FINALLY FUCKIN' RECORD FOR ONCE!"