Shady's obsession

9.

"Don't you dare." Hailie raised an eyebrow at me.

"I swear to god I'll slap some sense into you." I sassed back, taking a sip of my drink.

"Why would you need to do that?" Hailie asked innocently.

I tried to hold back a laugh, but ended up spitting out my water. "Oh my god," I exclaimed, putting a hand to my forehead.

I jumped and spilled the drink AGAIN when someone sat next to me.

"I think you scared her," Hailie chuckled as I realised it was in fact her dad, Eminem, that had sat between us.

"You're so *rslur* , how do you constantly spill stuff on yourself like a baby?" Eminem joked.

"I've got plenty of spare shirts, go in my bedroom and find one," Hailie said, slapping her dad's shoulder when she noticed his eyes drop to my chest.

I looked down and saw my white bralette was looking pretty see-through now that I had spilled water on it. I quickly covered myself and got up to go find a shirt.

As I rushed to Hailie's bedroom, I wondered why she hadn't told me her dad was visiting her. I sat down on the bed and buried my head in my hands, trying to take a few deep breaths to calm my anxiety.

Trying on different t-shirts only made me feel more insecure, especially since they were all tight on me. I had even accidentally gotten foundation on one of them. The heat in Detroit was surprisingly intense, so I had tried to dress for the nice weather, but Justin had argued with me about my outfit before I left. It brought my mood down and It was all just too overwhelming.

Feeling upset and embarrassed, I I couldn't stop myself from crying. Then, of course, Eminem walked in.

"You decent?"

"Yeah," I replied, wiping my tears away.

"Hailie said I was being rude, so..." he trailed off, chuckling.

"Oh shit, I really upset you, huh?" he said, looking apologetic.

"No, you're Eminem. What else can I expect from you?" I chuckled through my tears.

"Why are you calling me Eminem, you weirdo? Just call me Marshall or Hailie's dad," he snorted.

"Okay, I'm being mean again. Sorry," he groaned.

"You're not...Marshall," I sighed.

"Be for real, why are you upset?" he asked.

"I'm just having a bad day. Justin was being...Justin, calling me a fat whore, calling me ugly, and telling me to stay home and then asking where I'm going...it's just overwhelming. And then I fucking embarrass myself in front of you again, and now I've got foundation on Hailie's shirt," I ranted, lifting up the shirt to his face.

"You're definitely not fat, and It's not my business to tell you if you're a slut or not," he chuckled.

"Hailie has plenty of white t-shirts. She's not a brat. She won't freak out. And here," he took off his jacket and then took his t-shirt off, and gave it to me.

"Aw, thanks," I said sarcastically as I slipped it on carefully over my bralette, with his help so that I didn't get foundation on it either.

I slipped off the bralette underneath the shirt, and he put it on a hanger to dry.

"Now you can tell Hailie I'm not mean," he smirked as he walked out of the room and zipped up his hoodie.