The Rapper's Favorite || An Eminem Fanfiction

Chapter 15: Not Afraid

Aria's POV

The studio is buzzing with anticipation. Today's different—it's not about perfecting a track, but about preparing for something bigger. Releasing a single before the album isn't just a strategic move, it's a declaration. Marshall's voice, his message, and everything he's been through are about to hit the world in the form of one song.

Paul is pacing near the mixing board, speaking rapidly into his phone. Marshall's across from me, scrolling through a flood of text messages. He's calm, but I can feel the weight he's carrying. He's been through a lot, and this single is his response to it all.

"We need to get ahead of this," Paul says as he hangs up, turning to face us. "Once it's out there, we control the narrative. We can't afford to let anyone else tell the story."

My heart races. I've been here before, worked on big projects, but this feels different. This is my work, too. It's all the hours I spent pushing Marshall, helping him dig deeper into the lyrics, bringing out that raw honesty that only he can deliver. And now, the world's about to hear it.

I look over at him, the weight of everything swirling in my chest. "Why this one first?" I ask, trying to steady my voice. "Why not wait until the album's done?"

Marshall looks up from his phone, his gaze steady. "It's more than just a song, Aria. This one sets the tone for everything else. It's my comeback. People need to hear this before they hear anything else."

Paul leans against the edge of the mixing board. "It's not just about timing," he explains. "Dropping this song first is how we control the conversation. The world knows Marshall's been through hell, and this is him owning it. This track lays the groundwork for the rest of the album. Without it, the rest won't hit as hard."

He's right, and I know it. But it doesn't stop the nervous energy twisting in my gut. This isn't just about Marshall's return; this is my name tied to something massive.

Marshall leans back in his chair, locking eyes with me. "People need to feel this. It's the comeback, the fight. The rest of the album? It's the follow-through."

The confidence in his voice doesn't ease my nerves. It just reminds me how much is riding on this. "But what if it doesn't land?"

Paul shakes his head. "It will. But even if there's pushback, we're prepared. This song is what people need to hear. They need to feel that he's back."

Marshall leans forward, his voice firm but calm. "You know why it'll work? Because you made me pull out everything I didn't want to face. You pushed me to make it real. That's what's going to hit people."

I want to believe him. I really do. But the fear gnawing at the back of my mind is too familiar. I've spent so long hiding in the shadows, watching other people take the credit. Now, my name is about to be in the spotlight—and with that comes everything I've been running from.

Paul glances between us, reading my hesitation. "This is your moment too, Aria. When people see your name on this project, they're going to start asking questions. It's time for them to know who you are."

I swallow, feeling the weight of it all. Stepping out of the shadows, attaching my name to a project like this—it feels like opening Pandora's box. And I know exactly who's waiting to slam it shut.

Paul checks his phone, the screen lighting up. "We're ready to go live in a few minutes."

Marshall sits up straighter, his focus shifting back to the task at hand. Not Afraid is everything we've been building toward. It's the track that brings everything together.

I nod, feeling a strange mix of pride and terror bubbling inside me. Marshall's voice is powerful on the track—raw, unapologetic, and honest. Every word he spits is laced with defiance and conviction. He's not just telling his story; he's telling our story, in a way. The fight, the pain, the resilience—it's all there.

The song starts playing through the studio speakers again, and I feel goosebumps prickle up my arms as Marshall's voice cuts through the room. The beat hits, and his words come in strong, fierce, and real. It's like he's standing in front of the world, daring them to doubt him. His voice is powerful—more than I've ever heard before.

He's telling everyone that he's back, that he's not afraid to face everything that's tried to pull him down. Not Afraid is more than just a comeback anthem—it's a promise.

I glance over at him as the song plays, his words filling the room, and I feel a knot of pride twist in my chest. "You should be proud of this," I say, my voice softer than I intended.

He smirks, shaking his head. "You're the one who should be proud. You pushed me to pull out all this shit and lay it down. It wouldn't be this if you hadn't."

I don't know what to say. His words land heavy, but they're true. And now, the world's about to hear it.

Paul checks his phone, his finger hovering over the screen. "Alright. We're live in two minutes."

Marshall stands up, his focus zeroed in on the countdown clock. Not Afraid is about to hit the world, and there's no going back.

"You ready for this?" he asks, his voice low.

I nod, though my heart's racing. "As ready as I'll ever be."

He grins, but it's not cocky. It's knowing. "You should be. This song is going to change everything."

I try to smile, but the tension in my chest doesn't loosen. This is the moment I've been working toward, but all I can think about is what's coming next. What happens when the world knows? When he knows?

Paul's finger hovers over the keyboard. "Here we go. Three, two, one—"

The song goes live.

For a moment, there's nothing but silence. Then, the notifications start flooding in—not just from online, but through the industry. Paul's phone lights up with messages from radio stations, iTunes sales, and radio program directors asking for copies to play the song. Marshall's grin widens as he sees the early radio buzz. It's happening. Not Afraid is out there, and the world is reacting.

The messages come in fast, people calling it powerful, raw, exactly what they needed to hear. I feel a flicker of pride, but it's quickly overtaken by the knot of fear I've been carrying for days.

Then, my phone buzzes.

I pull it out, my stomach dropping when I see the name. Evan.

I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the screen, before I finally open the message.

"You think one song changes anything? I still own you."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from my lungs. Of course, he couldn't just let me have this.

I shove the phone back in my pocket, my heart racing, my chest tight. Marshall notices immediately. "What's wrong?"

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's him. It's Evan."

Marshall's expression darkens, his calm exterior cracking. "What did he say?"

I hand him the phone, my hands trembling. His eyes scan the message, and I see the anger build in his face. The air between us feels charged, the celebration forgotten.

"He's not going to win this," Marshall says, his voice low, but fierce. "He's not taking this from you."

I want to believe him, but the fear is overwhelming. Evan erased me once. He can do it again.

Paul looks up, his face hardening as he reads the message over Marshall's shoulder. "We need to stay ahead of this."

Marshall's voice is steady, but there's fire behind it. "He doesn't get to control you anymore, Aria. You're not hiding. Not now."