I Turn To You | Eminem

Two

The tyres crunched on gravel as the rental car pulled into a secluded spot at the back of the restaurant's lot. Hidden from the main road, it was perfect for anyone trying to dodge the spotlight.

Marshall glanced around, eyes sweeping the lot to make sure no one was around, just shadows and empty cars.

Christina hadn't been kidding when she'd said this place was tucked away. Some fancy bistro hidden in the hills, far enough from Chicago to avoid the crowds, but close enough to keep it convenient. The quiet hum of crickets filled the air, while the soft glow of the restaurant's sign filtered through the trees. Exactly the kind of low-key escape they both needed.

He checked his phone one last time, reading Christina's text again: "Meet me at the back entrance, 3 p.m. See you then."

It was already 3:05. Marshall had been sitting in his car for the past five minutes, just thinking. Running through all the ways this conversation could go wrong. After all, they hadn't exactly been on speaking terms.

Taking a deep breath, he got out of the car, pulling his cap low over his eyes. It was a pointless gesture since no one was around, but old habits die hard. He walked to the back entrance, finding it propped open. A security guard gave him a quick nod and led him through a narrow hallway into a private dining room.

And there she was. Christina Aguilera, sitting at a small round table, dressed casually in jeans and a blue top, her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She looked up as he entered, her expression a mix of curiosity and something else — maybe caution.

"Marshall," she said, standing up.

"Hey," he replied, feeling a little awkward. He stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets. "Thanks for, uh, setting this up."

Christina nodded. "No problem. Figured it was about time, yeah?"

He nodded, taking a seat opposite her. For a moment, there was silence. Marshall glanced around the room — simple décor, muted lighting, no other people in sight. Just them.

"Nice place," he said, more to break the silence than anything else.

Christina shrugged. "It's quiet. Private. Thought you'd appreciate that."

"Yeah, for sure," he agreed. "Been a while since I could sit somewhere without worrying about some asshole hiding in the bushes with a camera."

She laughed lightly. "Tell me about it. There was a time I thought I'd never get used to all that. The fame, the constant attention. But, you know, you just kinda get numb to it after a while."

Marshall shrugged. "Yeah, or you just stop giving a fuck."

Christina leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "You've always had a way with words, don't you?"

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Yes and no," she started slowly. "You've always been... blunt. Never cared about the consequences."

"Worked for me," Marshall said, shrugging. "Pissing people off kept me in business."

She shook her head. "You ever think about it, though? How many people you've burnt along the way?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You mean like you?"

She didn't flinch. "Yeah, like me. Like a lot of people. All those songs, all those names... It's a lot of anger to carry around."

Marshall took a sip of water, feeling the cool liquid ease the dryness in his throat, then set the glass down on the table. "I said what I felt. It was real at the time."

"Maybe," Christina said. "But I was, what? Twenty-years-old? Younger than your daughter now."

"I was angry," Marshall admitted. "You came for me first. Criticised my songs, said 'Kim' was fucked up."

"Because it was," Christina shot back. "A song about domestic abuse? You didn't see why people had a problem with that?"

Marshall looked away. "I was speaking my truth. That's what I do."

"But truth isn't an excuse for hurting people," Christina said. "You went after me just because I said something you didn't like. You wanted a fight."

Marshall's fingers drummed lightly on the table, his eyes distant. "It was easier to lash out than deal with my own shit."

"And now what? You've changed?" Christina asked, raising an eyebrow.

He let out a slow breath. That word — change — it was like a shadow he couldn't shake. "People talk about wanting change, but they don't mean it. They want the same old Slim Shady bullshit. The controversy. The drama."

Christina studied him for a moment, her eyes searching his face. "No. I think people want the truth. Not the image. The real you."

Marshall let out a short laugh. "Good luck with that. I've been with Shady so long, sometimes I don't even know who the hell Marshall is."

"Man, you've always been dramatic," Christina said, rolling her eyes. "That's just like you."

Marshall looked at her, caught off guard. "What? Me, dramatic?"

Christina laughed, and after a moment, Marshall couldn't help but join in. They fell into a more comfortable silence. Marshall finished his water, then reached over to refill Christina's empty glass before topping off his own.

He felt more relaxed than he had in days. He'd built up this meeting in his head, expecting a confrontation or, at the very least, some awkward apologies. But it wasn't like that. It felt... normal.

"But," Christina said, interrupting his thoughts. "I'm not here to drag up the past just to rehash it. I called because... I don't know, maybe it's time to just let it go. We've both changed. I mean, we've survived this long, right?"

Marshall nodded, feeling the tension ease out of his shoulders. "Yeah. We have. More than a lot of people expected."

"Right?" Christina said with a small laugh. "If someone had told me back then we'd be sitting here like this, I'd have called them insane."

"Yeah, straight up," Marshall replied.

"You know," Christina said, breaking the silence once more, "I watched a couple of your recent interviews. You've mellowed out a lot. I think it suits you."

Marshall smirked. "Yeah, well, therapy and shit will do that. Plus, I'm gettin' older. Don't have the energy to be mad at everybody all the damn time."

The blonde singer nodded. "Same here. Kids change things, too. Make you look at life differently."

"For real," Marshall's face softened. "Ain't just about us anymore."

Christina leaned in a little closer, resting her chin on her hand. "So, what now? Do we just go back to ignoring each other, or...?"

Marshall paused, thinking for a moment. "Nah, I mean, we don't gotta be tight or nothin', but maybe we don't have to act like strangers, either."

Christina nodded. "I'd like that. I'd like to know the real you, not just the dude I used to see on TV talking shit. I wanna know Marshall. The guy right here."

Marshall's smile was genuine this time. "Yeah, I'm down for that too."

They spent the next hour enjoying lunch, talked for another two; about music, their kids, life in general. It was easy, and for once, Marshall didn't feel the need to put up a front. He was just himself. And that was enough.

As they stood to leave, Christina looked at him, her eyes serious. There was a brief moment where they both seemed to consider hugging, but the gesture felt a bit too personal. Instead, they settled on a handshake.

"Right," she said with a smile. "Take care of yourself, Marshall."

"You too, Christina."

He watched her leave, feeling lighter than he had in years. Marshall stepped outside into the fading sunlight, breathing in the cool air.

He knew things were going to be alright.