Mona Lisa (Eminem Fan Fiction)

Pop Another

Marshall POV

I spent the anniversary of DeShaun's death and the next two days after that high and/or in bed. I was at an all-time low. I finally wrote some half decent lyrics to use in the new album, but I'm caught in my own head all the time. I think about how things should have been and the melancholy darkness my life has become.

I'm just so fucking depressed, I just can seem to get out this slump
If I could just get over this hump but I need something to pull me out this dump
I took my bruises, took my lumps fell down and I got right back up
But I need that spark to get psyched back up in order for me to pick the mic back up

Dre was back in town. After months of writer's block, I was finally starting to work on a new album and Dre's catalog of beats was going to be all over it. I started doing freestyles to his material and recording it instead of writing stories. We were having a good day and I thought at least Dre wouldn't get into my personal shit, but yet another one of my people was in my business.

"Shit's tight Em." He said bopping his head to the beat. "It'd be even tighter if you had your head on straight. You messing with some new chick?"

I scoffed, "Man, bitches are the last thing on my mind right now."

"Then you must be fucking wit dem pills again."

"Oh my God. Not you too." I slouched down in my seat.

"Everyone knows that you're fucking up again dawg. Why you tryin to hide it? Shit's right like it was back in December. You're all secretive, take a million trips to the bathroom."

"I fucking said I'm not! I got it under control!" I yelled as spit flew from my furious mouth.

"And you got that same temper you used to have. You're totally hooked." Dre told me matter-of-factly.

"Man," I rose from my chair, "I gotta get out of here."

I got in my Escalade and quickly popped three or four pills as I drove. I didn't know where I was going; I just needed a change of scenery. I drove around blindly for a while until I found myself entering the elevator in Liz's apartment building. I barely knew the girl, but she was easy to talk to. She listened and didn't judge me. She made me feel better about myself the other night too, and I appreciated that. I figured I'd surprise her.

"Liz!" I banged on her door. "Liz! You in there?"

I paced back and forth a bit before finally giving up.

She never answered her phone either, so I got back in my car and continued driving around. I eventually went back to the studio, but Dre was gone. I guess he had given up on me too. I felt like a useless disappointment of a human being. I hadn't seen my kids in over a week, my work was bad, my best friends all knew I was falling apart at the seams.

I ran upstairs to my office to slam then lock the door before chugging a couple more pills. I looked in the mirror that hung behind my desk and didn't even recognize my reflection. My eyes looked dark and sunken; my face was all fat and broken out. For a moment I wished they hadn't brought me back to life that night back in December. I was no good to anyone anyways. My kids are ashamed of me. I was so pissed at myself; I threw my desk over in frustration. Papers flew everywhere and glass from picture frames busted all over the floor.

I collapsed onto the floor and started sobbing in hopelessness. I was disgusted at what I had let myself become. It was like that new girl Liz told me the other night. Thirty-six is too old to be fucking around like this, and it's not what Proof would have wanted for me. Doody would be kicking my ass if he were here now.

~~

It was dark outside. I had sat in that office for hours and I was almost out of pills again. I was able to write some lyrics, but mainly I just sat amongst the debris of my shattered desk and cried. I think I may have fallen asleep for a bit. I tried calling Liz a few more times, but she never picked up. She probably hates me too. She saw what a pathetic, emotional mess I was, and I can't even fuck her right.

I picked myself up off of the floor and kicked all the broken glass and debris into a corner. I'd clean that shit up tomorrow. I was getting ready to go home and climb into my depressing bed once more. It was almost midnight. As I was turning off all the lights and locking up the studio, my phone started ringing. Liz (girl from club) showed up on my screen.

Liz POV

I spent the evening alone in my apartment in sweats and a hoodie painting with acrylics as I watched a movie all by my lonesome. Marshall tried calling me seven times, but I let it go to voicemail. I felt too guilty to answer the phone and he never left a message. I did feel some sort of connection with him the other night at the safe house. He told me a lot of personal shit about himself, but I barely even know him. It feels wrong to continue this facade.

It was almost midnight when I gave into temptation and gave him a call. I was curious to know what Eminem was up to late at night and was surprised when he answered on the first ring.

"Liz? Liz I wanna see you." He sounded urgent.

"I'm about to go to bed Marshall. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"No. Stay up a little. I can come over right now."

"No! No, don't!" I cleared my throat and tried to breathe away the anxiousness. "I'm really tired. I wouldn't make for good company tonight."

I was already in comfies at my actual apartment, I wasn't trying to get all dolled up and ask Logan if I could get in the safe house. That sort of thing needs to be planned.

"I knocked on your door for over twenty minutes today. Where were you?"

I stood up quickly to run my hands through my short blond hair. He cannot be hanging around the safe house! That could fuck up everything.

"You were at my place? Marshall, you can't just show up at my apartment unannounced!"

I could tell he was pacing around wherever he was. He sounded a bit frantic, so I tried calming him down.

"Marshall, I think you should go home and get some sleep. Write some lyrics if you're not tired. We can get together tomorrow night at the club."

Marshall exhaled deeply, "I don't want to go out and drink. I just want to sit and talk to you."

I smiled to myself in surprise, "Why?"

He paused for a few seconds then let out a low sigh, "It calms me down."

I thought for a moment as I didn't know what to tell him, "Ok." I answered quietly, almost a whisper.

"Ok? Good. I'll be there tomorrow night after I get done in the studio. Bye Liz."

"Marshall, I..." I knew he had hung up already. I was going to have to bribe Logan to use the safe house again tomorrow night which may be an uneasy task.

Logan wanted me to get Marshall to come out to the club so I could slip something in his drink, but it was quite flattering to have somebody want to spend time with me. I wanted to help Marshall; I didn't want to hurt him. Excited butterflies flitted in my stomach, and I didn't know if it was from nervousness or excitement. This whole thing was getting out of control.

The things I do to make money are dishonest and vile. I don't work, I hustle. It's the kind of occupation that I cannot let my emotions get involved with and that's probably why I'm so good at it. But when there is a person whose life is in utter turmoil telling you they need you...it makes you feel amazing! It's something I've never experienced before, not to mention, Marshall has so much talent to share with the world and he is trying to raise young daughters. I can't let him down!