Infinite (Eminem Fanfic)

34. Hard Rocks & Fighting Bouncers

Marshall's P.O.V.

After Jordyn walked out on me, again, may I add, I ain't gonna front, I felt some type of way. But I had said to myself, fuck it. Shouldn't expect nothing more nothing less from a bitch.

I get back inside the club and sit at the booth with the fellas, all of them having a groupie in their lap.

"Ayo Slim, where Jordyn at?" Proof asks me.

I just shrug it off.

"See, I told y'all he'd run that girl off," Bizarre hollers just as everybody laughs, so I flip them all off, pulling some random chick close to me.

After a few more Bacardi shots and having popped a few pills, I'm so out of it I ain't even there no more, and I don't give a fuck about nothing. I'm blacking the fuck out and that's how I like that shit.

The girl sitting on me starts to grind on me, giving me a lap dance so I slap her ass. She smiles, loving it. Slut.

"We are looking for a Mr. Marshall Mathers here. Is there a Marshall Mathers present?" Two uniformed cops walk up to us, fucking up my high. What are cops doing here anyways fuck, who let them assholes in?

"That would be me," I say in a monotone voice, getting up on my feet. I know the bastards already knew who I was anyway.

"Mr. Mathers you are under arrest for brandishing a gun in public," the cops says to me then as my hands get forced behind my back and they snap the handcuffs on me, reading me my rights and then walking me out.

The Insane Clown Pussy dudes must've snitches on me no doubt. Bitch made motherfuckers.

"Ayo Slim, sit tight and don't say nothing," Dre says to me as I'm being led away. "I'm gonna call your lawyer for you."

About an hour later, Paul bails me out and I get in the car with him and Naz.

"Well, now you've really outdone yourself, Marshall," he grumbles at me like I'm his fucking kid or something, while Naz just starts the car, without saying a word. "What, you think you are a thug now, threatening people with guns, that shit you rap about have gone that much into your head, you are a full on Slim Shady now, 24/7?" Paul continues to rant at me, rubbing the bridge if his nose with two fingers in exasperation.

I don't say shit, just look out of the window of the car, LA streets passing by us as we eventually stop in front of what looks like an airport.

"Yo, what the fuck?!" I turn to Paul, staring him down.

"You are going back to Detroit, kid. Tonight," Paul tells me sternly trying to look like he ain't about to have a heart attack or a stroke at any minute, "before you get into anymore trouble down here in LA."

And I feel like a child for real.

"What about my boys," I grumble, referring to D12. In my head I'm also like what about Jo, but it ain't like that girl gives too many fucks about me anyway. She's fucking cold man, she don't care about me at all, and I used to think Kim did a number on me before, but nah. Kim ain't even come close to this bitch, Jordyn.

"The rest of your crew would be flying back to Detroit tomorrow afternoon as it has already been planned before," Paul explains to me. "But you got to go right now, Marshall. Since you can't act like a normal human being in here, it's best you just go home and stay out of trouble. That's why I had booked a private flight for you ASAP. And Naz here would make sure you get exactly where you are going, no detours."

"That's some bullshit, yo," I complain.

Paul rubs the bridge of his nose again.

"Marshall," he let's put a deep breath. I look over at him and see that he's been losing even more hair lately, he's practically bald now. Well I'll be goddamned... "You do realize that those ICP guys are pressing charges against you, right," Paul now tells me. "You will have to go to court for this. Actually, you are facing jail time for this. So I hope it was worth it."