The Parasite | Eminem

12

He narrows his eyes at me.
He bobs his leg.
He sips his coffee.
He's on edge.
I don't understand.

"You good there bud?" I question, reaching up to grab the white porcelain mug.
Coffee.
Fuck.
Good shit, man.

"I'm fine. Are you fine?" He pushes back, crossing his arms over his chest.
I want him to stop bobbing his leg, it's annoying.

I don't think there's any other hotel breakfast as uncomfortable as this one.
This is utter pain, but I'm a glutton for punishment.

"Yes Marshall, I think we fucked last night and something about it is freaking you out." I state, sipping on the hot coffee.
They have hazelnut creamer down here, I'm having the time of my life.
I should buy this shit at home.

"I'm not fuckin' freaking out" he grunts, refusing to look at me.
He runs his tongue along his front teeth, making his frustration very apparent.

"Stop bobbing your leg then, it's fucking annoying" grinning, I watch my father cautiously as he fills up his plate at the buffet.
He does not need to get a hint of anything.

Stopping instantly, Marshall looks around the room, nibbling on his bottom lip anxiously.
"I have no interest in you- For the record. There's nothing of value to be interested in..." he grumbles, only making this whole ordeal worse for him.

"I give value, like preachers, I sell vision." Leaning in closer, whispering to him, I become his biggest fear.
I'm the next girl he won't be able to get enough of.
I'll tear him apart.
"Like perfume ads, desire or it's facsimile's. I'm the little nightmare that tortures the world."
I'm a horrid person.

"Don't fuck wit' me. Don't try an' get in my head." He grumbles, leaning in to meet me.
We silently battle one another with our gazes.
He can't win.
His confidence is fake.
He's an insecure child inside.

"I can only get in your head if you let me" I raise my eyebrows, giving him a flat lip expression.
You can't beat me in an argument.
I'm the world's self destructing invention.

"Alright, Marshall, you've got an interview with the guy from Rolling Stones today at six." Paul comes over, interrupting the stupid tension Marshall feels between us.
I revel in it.

"Oh, how lovely" I smirk, shoving my hand in my pocket, scrummaging for my box of cigs.

There's no sign telling people not to smoke in here.
Fair game.

"Yeah, what you gonna do while I'm busy being famous?" Marshall fires back, cracking a grin.
He's quite pathetic.

"I'm gonna read The Thirst for Annihilation and stare at the sky. Reminds me that I feel fulfilled without needing to shove my life full of meaningless bullshit." I mutter casually, shoving the cigarette between my lips and looking off at the buffet crowded with plenty of different types of people.

Being somewhere that isn't usual to me is something that always makes me feel strangely content.
I like feeling like I'm alone in a new environment, makes me feel especially individualistic.

"Did something happen between you two? Why are you being especially annoying?" Paul questions, getting a loud laugh out of me.

"Nothing that I know of. Maybe something's on Marshall's mind!" I exclaim, expelling the smoke out of my lips, right into his face.