Eminem One Shots

Concert

Warnings: Smut, and I don't really know what else. If you don't like it then I suggest you skip it.
A.N: This story is kind of your usual cliché one shot but I'll try to make this as 'unique' and different as possible. By the way when I do "..." it means short time skip, like a couple of hours, but when I do "~~~" it means long time skip, like some days, weeks or even months.

I'm at a concert. 'Cool', you'd say, except it's my first ever one that I'm attending at the age of fucking twenty-five!
Weird, huh? Yeah, I think so too, and it kinda demoralizes me, I don't know why. What's keeping me happy, though, is the fact that it's an Eminem concert. Now that's some shit I can brag about.

You'll be thinking 'couldn't you go to a concert earlier?'. Well yes, but what a surprise, I still live with my oh-so-called dad, which is in reality my stepdad. I swear to God I hate him.
I already work too much just to maintain myself, and now I also gotta work for a crackhead who calls himself my parent figure.

But that's not what I'm thinking about right now.
The only thing that keeps my mind occupied is how fucking hot Eminem is.
I swear I catched him looking at me a couple of times, though I'm not some kinda groupie who's trying to get laid one day or another, but I had a thing for him going on for a while now. It's not much his looks, and I say this finding him physically attractive, but the passion he puts into his work. I don't fall for people easily yet he made it to my heart without even trying, and I'm not exaggerating.

I look at him and he also looks as me, the eye contact so distant yet so intense.
No man has ever made me feel like this, which honestly surprises me because in twenty-five years of my miserable life I've been through many many relationships, while me and him aren't even together yet he can still make me feel butterflies in my stomach.

Some people, mainly girls, ask me shit like 'Why are you alone? Where are your girlfriends?'
Bold of them to assume I have friends. Well, I do but they're fake snakes who carry some fucking disease around. I wouldn't be surprised if one of their one-night stands gets AIDS or some shit like that.

The concert soon ends and as I prepare to go back 'home', I feel a hand stopping me.

I look back and it's him. Why would he talk to me? I don't have any VIP ticket, or shit like that.
I swear to God my heart starts racing, and my face becomes crimson red.

"You caught my eye - he stops for a second to think of the right words - You were alone. You are alone." He then finishes.
"Well, no need to remind me." I reply with a nervous chuckle.

He gives me a piece of paper, and tells me to keep it with me.

I go back home, well, it's a trailer but better than living in the streets, and that piece of shit isn't there.
If I'm lucky I might get the whole night for me.
I sit down on the couch and unfold the piece of paper.
'Call me' with a smiley face on it and his number. Not such an Eminem thing to do, but hey, I got his number. Why did he give it to me in the first place?

I grab my cellphone and dial his number, calling him, and he picks up.

"Hi." I start the conversation. Wow, what a nice icebreaker.
"Sup." he replies.
Fuck, this feels so awkward.
"You home?" He asks, and I immediately reply.
"My stepdad's out." Why the fuck would I say that I live with my 'father'? I'll look like a loser, like I wasn't one already.
"That's a good thing, I think. I feel ya."

How can this man even talk to me? I mean, I know I ain't that ugly but fuck, I surely am not a tall blonde bimbo with fake ass tits.