Jordyn and Marshall first meet on one of those days Marshall is desperately trying to sell copies of his debut album Infinite, vending on the streets of Detroit, standing right next to his beat down hand-me-down Honda his mom had passed on to him.
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A veeeeery long and slightly chaotic chapter. I should've probably broke it down into two parts, but I was being lazy. I was also getting tired towards the end if it, so there's a rather abrupt little time jump there, and I need to edit, so read at your own risk lol 😅
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Marshall's P.O.V.
Sitting at a small table across from Proof, we are playing some dumbass card game and the bastard keeps grinning all smugly at me cause he's been beating my ass in it for the past few rounds and he knows he's getting under my skin with that. The competitive motherfucker that I am, I hate losing, but this asshole here, he just happens to be real good at this shitty ass game and I've been slacking off.
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I can feel my eyes squint and my eyebrows knit together as I'm concentrating on the cards in my hands hard, trying to figure out a way how to mentally change them to something better, but I already know Proof is about to best me yet again. Here go all my hard earned money, I guess.
"Don't feel bad, doody. Ya know niggas are just better at this game than y'all white motherfuckers," Proof says happily, pulling the chips to the side after revealing his cards to me. Of course he beat me again. God-fucking-dammit...
Just as I'm opening my mouth to give him some smart ass response, the door to the studio bursts open and the rest of the fellas walk in with some drinks in their hands and some dumb groupie bitches on their arms. Bizzy is also nursing a huge ass bag of weed in one hand and a takeout bag with some food in another . Don't tell me this clown actually got on an elevator with that damn weed, carrying the shit just like that in plain sight. Then again, it's Bizarre we are talking about. This dude just does not care.
"Yooooooo, lunch break is over, my niggas, time for you to get back in the booth and start working on them verses Slim," Denaun announces loudly, slamming a bottle of Bacardi on the table me and Proof are sitting at. "Before Dre wrings your neck for being behind on your deadlines again."
"Get the fuck outta here," I smirk. "How Dre gon wring my neck when I'm down here in Detroit and he all the way in Cali right now. Trust, by the time he do get here to check on my progress, imma have this whole record already finished and shit."
I lean back in my chair and unscrew the top from the Bacardi bottle though, just as one of the groupies is quick to sit herself in my lap.
"Hi, Em," she purrs in my ear. Not even carrying about the rest of the guys in the room all watching us, she starts grinding her ass on my crotch. So I smirk to myself and palm her ass over the short as shit and tight as a motherfucker skirt that she's wearing.
Obviously, this chick is a huge slut, but bitches like her, they've been pretty good distractions for me lately. Ever since my girl fucking dumped me cause she apparently wanted to act like a dirty ass whore while on tour, and the bitch I had married right after that, my baby momma, is out there probably fucking around on me right now at this very moment. I won't be surprised at all of Kim is literally screwing some other dude right in our marital bed.
