The Same Love (An Eminem Fan Fiction) 2 of 2

Chapter 5

*few days later*

I sighed, pushing my chair away from my desk. I keep telling myself that I only had an hour of work left, but an hour feels more like a year. It was 4:34, and I would leave work at 5:30. I tucked my hair behind my ear and continued on working, huffing a long and annoyed breath.

I then remembered I had no way home. My car suddenly broke down while I was pulling out of the driveway that morning. Thankfully, it didn't give out while on the highway. Darron had forcibly gave me a ride to work, but I highly doubt that he's anywhere around to pick me up.

I'd texted almost everyone to see if someone could come and get me, but they either said they couldn't or just didn't respond. I checked my phone again, just to see if someone bothered to respond. To my surprise, it was Marshall who texted back.

I first texted him, "hey, car broke down and I have no way to leave work. Any chance you can take me home?" To which he just now responded,"Of course, anything for you,"

I gleamed to myself reading that. 'Anything for you'. We had stayed in touch those last few days. Texting, a few phone calls. I had to do it all in secret, since I knew how Darron reacted last time he found out I was in contact with Marshall, and I didn't want to go through it again. I had to layer on an extra amount of makeup on my cheek to hide the redness and scaring he left. It was sad to say I had became a professional at it.

Quickly, I typed back,"Thank you! Could you be at my building at around 5:30? Or 5:40 the latest?"

I stared up at the clock once more; 4:45. At least the day was getting a little quicker, I thought. Last time I checked, it felt like it took four months before it changed to the next minute. Time in the office always stood still, it seemed. If there were such a thing as time paralysis, an amazing example would've been there.

He responded back fast saying "Sounds good. See you then"

I wanted to type something back, but as soon as I began typing, I heard a knock on my office door.

"Daya?" said one of my co-workers, Craig.

It wasn't the same Craig, not the one who tried to have sex with me in the breakroom. This Craig was much, much nicer. He was also very introverted, so no one knew much about him. He wasn't bad looking either. Craig was definitely not the stereotypical introvert. He had woody brown colored hair that was long, long enough to tie back in a pony tail with greyish-blue tainted eyes and a smooth, sharp complexion.

"Mhm?" I said light heartedly.

"More paper work for you to file, sent up by Ms.Clarkson," he informed me.

I rolled my eyes to the back of my head and hummed an angry tone. Ms.Clarkson was my wicked boss, to put it into perspective. It had always seemed that her main goal everyday was too ruin mine, which she, so far, has achieved daily.

"Send it in," I huffed.

Craig nodded his head and slowly walked out of my office. I had shaken my head to myself and concluded outloud, "No wonder she's not a Mrs."

For the millionth time, I looked up at the slowly ticking wall clock. There were only two more minutes until I was allowed to clock out for the week, since that day was my final day of work until that following week. I didn't see a point in trying to keep working, so I simply sat down and spun half circles in my chair.

I stared around the room while doing so, thinking of random things. Jane was in soccer practice today, and wasn't going to get home until 6:20. I wasn't certain where on Earth Darron was, but deep down I had a feeling he was more than likely drinking away his problems at the brewery that was nearby my house, like he spent most of his days.

Randomly, Marshall popped into mind. He had been on my mind a lot since we ran into each other. It was weird, having the first guy you were completely in love with suddenly reappear in your life like a bunny out of a hat. It was especially alarming when you feel emotions washing over you that you had burried six feet under all the memories stored inside the brain, just to be able to say "I'm finally over them." When in reality, no matter how far down you buried the feelings in your mind, they still lingered in your heart, waiting to be brought back to life.

The clock struck 5:30. I jumped out of my chair, giddiness washing over me as tides do on the beach. Mentally I had been preparing myself to see Marshall again. My purse slung over my shoulder, I shut the light off in my office and walked out of the cubicle. I waved to certain people that I was friendly with, and rolled my eyes at others who just annoyed me, Including Ms.Clarkson.

I practically ran out of that building, feeling free from the prison cell. Then the exact car I expected pulled up. That same black Escalade, with the tinted windows and the fine black paint job. I took a deep breath, and hopped into the cool car, with the air conditioner blowing and the 90's rap music blaring through the speakers.

Nervousness suddenly came into play. It was  the first time we had seen each other since our 'date'. It shouldn't have been weird, and I shouldn't have felt nervous. It was just a friend, picking up another friend from work.

"Sup?" Marshall greeted, lowering his precious music enough to hear me.

"Stressed," I muttered. I threw my head back against the head rest, taking in the cool air that the A/C was giving off.

"That's what work does to you," he said, as he began pulling out of the small driveway that was placed near the entrance.

I peered over to him, surprised by his statement. "How would you know? You're an entertainer. Isn't that, like, fun?"

He nodded his head slightly. "Oh no, Daya. Sure, the performing part is fun. But everything else is stressful. Writing, traveling, censoring out everything the public wouldn't like, remixing tapes; there's a lot more too it then just speaking into a microphone, you know."

I nodded my head in understandment. Entertaining didn't seem like the hardest thing in the world, not compared to a job like mine, for example. I couldn't tell if he was just trying to relate or not. My eyes pivoted to his direction, and I just looked at the simple details of his face; all the frown lines and the laugh lines, his cute nose and his goregous eyes, all the way down to his perfect jawline. 

"What?" I suddenly heard him say.

The car slowed to a stop as we reached a red light, and I realized I had been staring for too long.

"Nothing, Marshall," I chuckled, looking from Marshall to the window.

"No tell me," he insisted. He looked over at me sweetly. "I wanna know why you looked at me."

I didn't want to tell him I was just staring at him, so I instead continued with our recent conversation.

"I don't know. From my perspective it doesn't look stressful."

He pushed the gas pedal and we began moving again once the light turned green. The green leaves from the trees swayed around in the summer breeze with some of the leaves fading to an orange-ish color, meaning the downfall of summer was on it's way.

"..but I wouldn't know. I'm not a rapper," I continued.

He had a goofy smile on his face, the smile I remember clearer than day. It caused me to smile as well. I could tell that he was still glancing at me from the corner of his eye. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence.