Just Do It ...(Eminem Fan Fiction)

They Don't Know You Like I Know You

Sabrina POV

"So, this is wifey?! I thought Marshall was just blowing smoke when he told me he got a girl." Dre graciously invited me in.

"Dre, this is Sabrina. Sabrina, Dre." Marshall held his gaze at me and smiled.

"Sabrina!" Dre held a broad grin on his face while extending his huge hand which engulfed mine as we folded into a friendly hug.

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

I didn't know why I was so nervous; I'd met famous people before. I took some extra time this morning with my hair and makeup routine to be sure I made a good impression on Marshall's friends. Thank goodness my cold was over, and I didn't have a nose like Rudolph anymore. Denaun was in the studio, amongst two other guys I didn't know, and a bright eyed, bushy bearded producer who I knew to be Rick Reuben. Paul showed up later.

"Yo, you wanna hear something?" I nodded and Marshall scooped me to his lap with one arm and reached to press a button with the other.

Instinctive nature
To bring the anguish (yeah) to the English language
With this ink, you haters get wrote on like a piece of paper
This rap shit got me travelin' place
To place, you barely leave your house
'Cause you're always stuck at your pad, it's stationary

"That's dope!" I enthusiastically replied as it ended, "It's different, there's so many rhyme patterns in there if you listen carefully."

"Yeah, dude just sent his part over. It's called Chloraseptic. It's gonna be the third track on the new album."

"It's going to be great honey. I'm so excited for you." I leaned in to kiss his cheek, "When's it coming out?"

Paul made his presence known, "Another six months or so. Of course there's a fake leak all over the fucking internet. We're going to be shooting a video with Ed (Sheeran) in another month or two when we're done touring. Before we leave for Europe."

My phone vibrated with a video from Hailie, "Oh my god! He's crawling!"

"That shit is crazy." Marshall said in disbelief as he peered over my shoulder.

Marshall, Paul, and I huddled around my phone to watch the video she took of Javius once more.

"Aw, look at that little guy." Paul admired our foster son.

"And that's really reassuring because we were waiting to see if he'd have any developmental delays." Marshall explained.

I closed the video and realized I had a text from my mother. "Excuse me, I'm going to give my mom a call."

Marshall pulled me in for a quick kiss before I left the guys to work their magic in the studio, and I casually closed the door behind me as I made my way to the foyer.

"Hi honey, how's Detroit?" She answered right away.

"I'm actually in California right now. Marshall took me on a trip." I gushed.

"Oh, that's wonderful." Her voice turned reluctant, "I was actually just watching something from years ago that I wanted to tell you about. I'm not sure you've learned this about Eminem yet."

I pessimistically rolled my eyes knowing full-well that she was about to say something stupid.

My mother lowly yet firmly questioned, "Did you know Eminem used to be addicted to pain pills?!"

Uh, yes mother. Everyone in the fucking world knows Marshall Mathers was addicted to pain pills.

"Of course, he's told me. We are very open in our relationship; we tell each other everything. He's been clean for a decade now! Amazing right?" I held my breath hoping that her response wouldn't be too ill-advised.

"Well, I mean...you're sure he's still sober? What if you're forcing this baby on him causes him to relapse. I've seen sometimes where people don't use drugs for years and then something happens, and they start using harder than ever. And with you not working, is he just allowing you to live there for free? How long do you think that will last?"

"What the hell are you talking about? Marshall has been through all kinds of fucked up shit and remained sober." I was trying my best to stay calm, "I'm intelligent, I'm independent. I still get paid from my family leave time. Plus, I have plenty of my own money still in the bank. I make a fucking excellent salary!"

"Sabrina! What's wrong with you? You never swear. Until you started hanging out with this... hip hop guy or whatever he is. Eminem."

"His name is Marshall."

"Well, I find Marshall a bit confusing. He's not usually what you go for. Did you know he has a song about killing his child's mother?" she asked in her skeptical tone.

"You don't have to get it. We understand it and that's all that matters." I took a breath, "Mother, I'm a grown-ass woman. Please have some faith that I know what I'm doing. I'll call you soon."

I hung up before she could respond. I knew what Marshall and I had was real, and I'd never seen any red flags. We barely talk about his sobriety, it's a non-issue. My mother was just being concerned out of love, but it makes me feel helpless. She sees him as a character and not as the real, funny, caring, sensitive, yet sometimes vulgar man I know him to be. I will always trust him until he gives me a reason not to.

I re-entered the studio to some other beat blasting just as Paul was making his exit.

"Good luck with that motherfucker. He's crazy." Was all he said as he patted my shoulder, nodded towards Marshall, and walked out.

I lightly stepped towards Marshall, "What's wrong with him?"

"Nuthin. He's just Paul being Paul." He pulled his hoodie from his face a bit, "Everything ok?"

"Oh, that was just a bunch of fucking bullshit." A smile formed across my lips, "I do curse a lot these days, don't I? Wonder why."

Marshall shrugged, "Fuck it."

I laughed way too hard at that as he looked on in confusion.

I got to spend the next two hours watching Marshall and Dre as they worked, and it was magical. I felt so lucky to be the woman that Marshall wants next to him admiring his brilliance. I knew I was special because I got the feeling that he doesn't allow just anyone in the studio. I sat back for most of the time observing but would nod my head to almost any beat that came on. To me, everything Marshall did was amazing.