You're dancing at the club, too entirely drunk for your brain to focus. You're body is moving from side to side, and your dress is flashing some of the men, but you don't care. You're too drunk to care right now. Some men have already tried to hit on you, but they looked like shit and nothing that you would want in a man. "Hello there Ms. Lady." Says a voice from behind you. You spin around, instantly recognizing the voice. It was Marshall Bruce Mathers, or otherwise known as Eminem. You gasp, almost feeling like you're about to faint. This man is your idol! "Mr. Mathers?" You ask dizzily. Marshall closed his eyes, nodding and smiling. "Not who you expected?" He opened his eyes and snickered. You shook your head. "I didn't expect you to be here! I mean, I'm a giant fan!" You gasp, barely believing it was him. Marshall looks you up and down, and you feel like you're on top of the world for just a few seconds. Eminem was here, looking you up and down! "Would you want to go back to my place?" Marshall pointed behind him, and your jaw drops. "Really?" You ask, not believing him. You think you sound dumb, but apparently Marshall doesn't. "Yes, really." He smiles. You immediately nod, looking like a derp. Eminem grabs your hand and leads you outside of the club. He's practically pulling you, since you're too drunk to move your legs as fast as his is moving.
