Lose Yourself

Holding Back

Em hated surprises. He wondered how long he'd felt this way and if there was any way of fixing this. It felt defective. He used to thrive in uncertain situations. Now, in his late 40's, he'd rather throw himself out of a moving bus than go on a mystery date. How had he allowed this shit to happen?

His mind reeled with possibilities. His only request for their date was that they not go anywhere public. Now he wondered if he had been specific enough with Sam. Had he explained how he'd crawl out of his own skin than deal if he had to deal with fans tonight? He smoothed his Pistons hoodie. This felt like being in hell.

Rex drove him to meet Sam at some place called Ijsbaan. Zoloft wasn't cutting it today and he longed for a drink. Or weed. Even after years of sobriety, the cravings still caught him off guard.

He forced himself to use his tools from therapy. Instead of allowing his mind to race out of control, he cleared his head and named 5 things that were true about his current situation

1. Sam Coulson was bisexual.
2. Sam had flirted with him
3. Em had asked him out
4. Sam had said yes
He couldn't think of anything else so he added the weather to the list.
5. It was raining and shitty outside

He wished he could have driven himself but scheduling had made it necessary to come straight from a busy afternoon the studio. And the studio was the place that he (currently) felt most likely to get shot. It was public, people knew that he frequented it and the security was substandard. And a lot of people wanted him dead.

Rex turned onto a side street and stopped the car. Em's attention snapped back to his bodyguard.

"What the fuck? Why the hell are we stopped?"

Rex was doing his concerned face, which was very much like his constipated face. "Is this, like, a thing with this dude?"

Em frowned. "Fuck off, Rex."

Rex's concerned face was shifting into pouting face. "I'm serious, Em."

"I'm fucking serious too. I'm hanging out with a friend. That's all."

Rex started to car again. "This is the same guy as Friday night?"

Em exhaled slowly, trying to control his irritation. "His name is Sam. He's Stef's teacher."

Rex blew through a 4 way stop. "Jesus, I know his fucking name."

Gripping the edge of his seat, Em snapped. "Why the fuck do you even care?"

Shrugging, Rex took a sip out of his travel mug of lavender tea. "I looked him up already. Checked out his record and shit. He seems like a good guy."

"Then why are we having this conversation?"

Rex let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't fucking care about him but I gotta know if you're gonna be out all night. I don't wanna worry about your dumbass all night."

Em was silent, he turned his face away so his old friend wouldn't see that his cheeks were crimson.

Rex watched the traffic light. "So it is a thing with Sam?"

Em glowered at him and checked the charge on his phone. "Just fucking drive the fucking car, Rex.

"We don't – nobody cares who you're with." Rex said gently. "I've been with you since we're a mangy little junkie making us wait outside Kim's house all night, all sobbing and shit."

"Yeah. Fuck. Great. Thanks for the reminder. Good times." Em felt his anxiety level rising.

"Just saying. I don't care if you're bi or gay or whatever. You're Eminem. It don't make no difference. What if I say it first? I'm gay."