Emotional Boys 2000

32

"Versace, Versace, Hugo Boss, Boss, Boss, Boss, woah, lots of Hugo Boss suits... Armani, Armani, Prada, Prada, Prada, damn you really coordinate your shit. Dolce & Gabbana, oh, shit this one is nice. Fucking Christ Esdeath, how much money do you make?" Pulling it off the rack in my closet, he stares down at the floral-jacquard single-breasted suit, in complete awe at how expensive it looks.

"Mm, well over seven figures I guess..." I respond casually, pretending as if I don't know the exact numbers, reapplying some more gell to my hair, smoothing it down properly.

His hand runs along the sleeve of the suit, tracing along the golden embroidery. I grin to myself, watching him through the mirror, behind me, incredibly in awe at my wealth. I'm not quite sure why, I work on Wall Street, probably the wealthiest place in America, the trading hub of the world's biggest economy. I love feeling like I've beaten the odds... that I've accomplished something incredible.

"You wanna wear this one tonight..? Also, what type of food we getting?" Marshall asks, laying it down on the bed and coming into the bathroom, body halting behind me, arms wrapping around my waist.

"We're going to an incredible Japanese restaurant to put it modestly" I smirk at him, watching him smile softly at me before pressing a light-hearted kiss on my shoulder.

"Also I don't know if you'll be allowed in the restaurant dressed like that" I giggle, eyeing his oversized white shirt and insanely baggy jeans, held up desperately by a black leather belt you can only see when he raises his arms.

"Yeah, yeah" he scoffs, letting go of me and heading outside of the bedroom, "I brought better-fitting clothes" he explains, most likely going to grab his duffel bag.

***

"Reservations for two at eight-thirty under the name Domitia" I tell the woman managing the front desk, getting a nod from her before she checks for my name in the system, smiling softly upon seeing it and grabbing two menus, ushering us to follow her.

"Damn this place looks nice as fuck, I ain't been to a fancy restaurant in like... like ever" He mutters, looking around at the softly illuminated lanterns and neatly set tables.

"Mommy is treating you well tonight" I joke with a soft chuckle, getting a small laugh out of him as we're led to a sectioned off room containing a singular table. The partition looks traditional, and the Japanese theme stays true throughout the whole restaurant.

We get ourselves seated, smiling up to the woman in appreciation once she's placed the menus down in front of us.

"I ain't think I've ever asked you your actual ethnicity, I mean like, I get that Asian people get that all the time, but like, you're from America... but yeah, I'm sorry, I've always been worried to ask it cause I don't wanna sound like a moron" Marshall rambles the question, making me giggle.

At least he didn't ask me, 'what type of Asian are you?' because holy fuck that gets insanely frustrating.

Marshall is white white, so I have no curiosity of what his descent is, most likely some strings of European.

"Nope I get it, but I think we're past the point of awkwardness... yeah my mom is Korean and my dad is Japanese, but we mostly followed Japanese superstitions, though I don't think I ever believed in them, or any religious ideas whatsoever." I explain to him, looking down at the menu with excitement, everything looks so good, and believe me, everything is really fucking good here...

Definitely getting shrimp tempera and Agedashi tofu, ah I love familiar foods...

"Oh rock shrimp tempura! We're definitely getting that" I exclaim out loud getting a chuckle from Marshall, looking up at me from his menu, smiling at me with such a warm sense of love, at least that's the energy I feel is coming from him.

"So uh, what sort of superstitions did you guys have? Sounds interesting..." he continues, taking a sip from the water that has been provided without question. He looks great in the grey, well fitting tee-shirt, dressed up slightly with a black leather jacket. I've never seen him in a leather jacket, it seems illegal for him to wear something like that, so out of his nature. It looks sexy nonetheless.

"Well, they're pretty interesting... Like, if you rest after a meal then you may turn into a cow, pig or elephant... or, if you cut your nails at night, it brings you closer to death."

"That's the only time I remember to do it!" he exclaims with a chuckle, grinning at me as if he's fully enjoying the conversation and not at all judging my culture.

"Putting a pair of scissors under your pillow is said to be effective warding off the evil spirits and bad dreams, so some times I used to sleep with scissors under my bed if I previously watched something scary or whatever, but I didn't do it as often as my dad... ok uh, this ones really interesting but uh, my dad would ask us to cover our belly buttons not only so that we can curl up like a ball to keep warm but also so we can protect ourselves from the thunderbolts, and the Gods of thunder and wind from taking them." his eyes widen at me, seemingly blown away by the ideas, making me laugh nervously.

I don't want to discredit any of my father's ideas, or mock them, but I don't believe in them anymore, and I feel weird telling Americans about them.

"Well, that's an interesting fucking childhood, I've gotta fucking say" he admires, tracing his hands along the chopsticks, laid perfectly on the pristine napkin.

"Well are we ready to place your orders?" small notebook in hand, the waiter comes into the partitioned off room, looking chipper and suddenly taken aback as her eyes land on Marshall. "Oh wow, they told me a celebrity was coming, oh wow, Eminem, you're Eminem! Oh I'm so sorry, I was told I had to be calm... just uh, what can I get you two?" she instantly tries to contain herself, though her gushing still boils over.

Marshall gestures his hand towards me, smiling softly, "She knows what's good here, so I think it's best she takes the lead"

"For our appetizers, we'll do the rock shrimp tempura, Haru Maki, the spicy edamame, Agedashi tofu, and finally... we'll each have a miso soup" the portions are small, though pricy, but I don't give a shit about that. "Oh, and for alcohol, we'll do the Junmai Daiginjo Sake, that pairs well with fish does it not?"

"Yes it does, customer favorite. Would you like to order your mains now or after your appetizers?" she inquires, writing down each thing diligently.

"We'll order them after, thank you" I smile up at her, signaling the closure of the conversation before turning back to look at Marshall, a look of intrigue pasted on his face, seemingly impressed by my way of composing myself.

she leaves quickly, making it just me and Marshall again.

"So... are you introducing me before the Grammys or literally at the Grammys?" I inquire, getting a thoughtful expression from him in response.

"At the Grammys, that way I'll be the only thing that people will talk about after the fact" he chuckles, "not that I really care, but if would be fun to steal the show right? I mean, I'm Eminem, I've never taken anyone to an award show" he shrugs, smug and honest.

"Really huh? Then I guess we'll make one hell of a night of it"