Mona Lisa (Eminem Fan Fiction)

I'm An Artist

Marshall POV

"I'm an artist."

"What?" I had just peeled my eyeballs open, and Liz was still lying next to me.

I never failed in feeling like shit every single morning anymore.

"You asked me what I do for a living. I'm an artist." Liz rolled over to face me and started stroking my arm. "I paint, I sculpt, I write poetry. I went to college for a little for graphic design, but I quit because...life happened."

I looked into Liz's eyes, and she still looked tired. She didn't look like she slept at all, and she always seemed nervous. Not that I knew her well, but I know a troubled woman when I see one. It's my specialty.

"Think you might ever go back?" I asked her and went to stroke her hair, but she quickly caught my hand in hers and held it to her chest instead.

"I'd love to. It's one of my goals, but" She stopped and took a deep breath. "It's complicated."

We talked for a couple minutes before Liz asked me to leave. She said she had to go to work, but just last night she had told me she didn't have a job. I didn't question her, I just grabbed my shit and bounced.

I drove my Escalade (because the Mercedes had now been officially reported as stolen) straight to the studio without even stopping home to shower or brush my teeth. I only had four Vicodin remaining, so I'd have to meet up with the dope man hopefully by noon. Liz still had the t-shirt that I had peeled off for her to sleep in, so I was wearing sweats and a wife beater.

The guys from D12 sat around the studio already hard at work as they had reunited to put out an album at the end of the year. I was late again and usually nobody said anything, but today was a little different.

"It's already eleven 'o'clock Marshall." Paul came out of his office.

I looked up in surprise, "Paul! I didn't know you'd be here today."

"You look like shit!" Bizarre didn't even look up as he said it.

"Yo, I'm sick of everyone telling me that all the time! I'm a grown-ass man! I got a lot of shit going on. Leave me the fuck alone!"

"Marshall, this isn't gonna work if you're fucked up all the time." Porter cut in.

"I'm fucking out of here, man." I proceeded right back out the door.

It worked out perfectly because I had to get ahold of some pills and quick. Ain't no worse feeling in the world than being in withdrawal. I was able to meet my dealer in the parking lot of some seedy bar. My wallet only had $200 in cash in it. I swear I had more, but I hadn't been home in a day or two and was losing track of where I had been and what I was doing. I popped a couple pills immediately and then drove home, speeding and swerving in the process.

I fell into bed and pulled the covers over my head. I planned on staying here for the remainder of the day.

Liz POV

No one knows what goes on in my brain,

The darkness and sorrow that runs through my veins.

No one knows that I'm lost, don't know why I am here

I have nothing to care for, no one I hold dear.

No one knows I'm a sham, a master of disguise

Fake hair, fake face, only constant is my eyes.

No one knows I have hope that I'm gonna break free,

My life isn't over, it will happen for me.

I sat back on my couch and reread my words. That was the first writing that has spilled from my heart with just a twinge of a wish. A dream. Something to look forward to in I don't know how long. I picked up the piece of charcoal on my coffee table and walked over to a sketch I had been working on recently. It was of a huge birdcage with a tiny, long-beaked hummingbird captured inside.

My phone buzzed from the coffee table and without even looking, I knew it was Logan. Nobody ever calls me except him.

"Hey, what's up?" I answered just higher than a whisper.

"Hey, listen, I'm gonna stop by later and drop off some groceries for you."

"Ok."

"And I took care of your car insurance today, so don't worry about it."

"Alright, thanks."

I didn't feel like talking to or seeing Logan. As far as I was concerned, he was the root of all evil.

"So, how'd it go with Eminem? When do you think he's gonna let you in his house?"

"Never. He doesn't let girls like me inside his home. He takes them to a hotel room or to the backseat. He doesn't let women he's just met into his world where his daughters live. That's private."

Logan seemed frustrated, "Why you always talking like you know him so well? Tell him you wanna cook him breakfast naked or some shit. C'mon Mona, I know what you're capable of. Work your magic on this motherfucker like you did Nelly and T.I. This could be the biggest heist we've ever been involved in."

"Just stop with the Eminem shit Logan. Marshall's so fucked up on drugs, I don't think he even has any money left. He's about to file for bankruptcy." I rolled my eyes in annoyance, "I'll see you later."

I exaggerated when I told Logan that Marshall was broke, but for all I knew, he very well could be. That type of thing happens to celebrities all the time especially when a drug habit is involved. Marshall had spilled his guts to me last night and told me all about the death of his best friend and about his family. Out of all the things he could have been doing on the anniversary of his best friend's death, he spent it with me and felt comfortable enough in my company to show me that level of vulnerability.

I am such a shitty person!

I wasn't sure how to break free from Logan. He's controlled every aspect of my life for years now. I admit that I had unfortunately allowed him to back me into a corner because it felt nice to have someone there to take care of me.   Now I realize, I have absolutely no one in this world.