Under the Influence

XXVII.

May 15th 2000.
Las Vegas, Nevada.

*Chapter Inspired By: Frank Ocean-Pyramids (pretty much my most favourite song ever)*

"Marshall just do it already you're making me nervous!" I cringed, backing away from him as far as possible.

Marshall's eyebrows furrowed together and his face screwed up tightly in concentration, "I'm trying! It. Ain't. Budging!" Just as he said that the cork from the champagne bottle he'd been wrestling with finally flew across the cabin, narrowly missing my head. "Fucking finally".

"I almost had a damn heart attack trying to get my drink on" I nervously laughed, happily accepting the flute of freshly poured bubbles.

"Uh uh. We gotta cheers first" Marshall tutted as I raised the glass to my lips, making me roll my eyes. "To one year".

We clinked glasses as we looked at each other sweetly. As per usual Marshall was spoiling me like crazy, today with expensive wine and a secret trip. Originally myself, and everyone else, thought that 'Eminem' was this tough guy persona who didn't give a shit about women- yet he was constantly proving me wrong. Maybe the public still thought he was a bit of, well, a massive douche, but to me he was the sweetest guy I'd ever met. The soft spot he had for me was undeniable and made me grin ear to ear like an idiot every time I remembered I was the only one he loved like this. "To one year. My best so far".

Marshall reclined into the plane seat and threw his arm around me securely, seeing as we were the only ones on the private jet. "You mean that?"

I nodded and played with his fingers in mine. "Not going to lie- it's been hard. But it's been so worth it. I wouldn't have it any other way".

"Yeah" he nodded deep in thought as he stared down at me. "You make me happy as fuck" he murmured, leaning down to passionately kiss me, our lips fizzling against eachothers from the alcohol.

"So can you tell me where we're flying to now?"

"Nah. You always make me spoil the surprise".

"Just tell me. It's not like I can escape anyway" I joked, motioning to the fact we were 40,000 feet in the air.

Marshall sighed and topped up our glasses. "Vegas".

"Vegas?! I love Vegas!" I exclaimed a little too excitedly for my own good, sloshing drink onto myself. "Dammit! Now I'm all wet" I muttered as I wiped at the stain.

Marshall smirked and looked down at me cockily. "You've never complained about that in the past". Internally groaning and without thinking twice, I purposely tipped my glass right onto Marshall earning a, "Argh!" from him.

"Oops".

"You fucking..."

"Wanna finish that sentence?" I challenged playfully, receiving a glare in return as he grumbled something incoherently. "No point in cleaning up. I've never turned down a wet tshirt contest before" I winked, pulling at his top.

A hint of a smirk tugged at Marshall's lips but he quickly concealed it with an annoyed look. "Oh yeah? Ever been in one?" Before I could jump out of the way Marshall poured his entire glass down my top, making me gasp loudly. "No point in wearing any clothes now" he dropped his eyes to my chest, letting me know everything was on clear display. I tried to be annoyed at him like he tried with me but we couldn't contain ourselves and before we knew it we both burst out laughing childishly. Marshall tackled me down onto the couch, all thoughts of actually drinking the champagne pushed aside.

*****

"Wow Marshall. This is absolutely incredible" I marveled as I slowly entered 'The Palazzo' penthouse suite at 'Rio'. My fingers danced across every surface, feeling the luxuriousness of the couches, marble counter tops and even the grand piano nonchalantly sitting in the corner. My gaze travelled to the giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling, each individual glass piece gleaming under the setting sun. "How much did this all cost?" I asked as I looked down the window, noticing how insanely high above the main Las Vegas strip we were.