INFINITE (Eminem Fan Fiction)

Chapter 1: Almost Famous

Chapter 1: Almost Famous 

Had it not been for the fact that Riley was thrown off her surfboard and tumbled around in the ocean like it was a washing machine, she probably would've missed the phone call. She'd come up from the surface, coughing, leg aching from where the surfboard strap had ripped her through the wave. Exhausted from spending a good hour in the surf, she pulled in her short board and caught the next wave into shore.

Like most days in July, the Miami Beach was sweltering in heat. As Riley stepped out of the water, board tucked under her arm, she was practically dry by the time she reached her bag. Just as she laid her board down on its cover, avoiding as much sand as possible her god-awful ringtone let loose. Grabbing the blackberry, she lifted it up to her ear, hair still dripping down her back.

“Hello?”

“Riley, baby, guess who’s the best man in the world?” It was Mark.

 She half rolled her eyes and pulled a coy smile. “I’m scared to answer that. Don’t want to boost that ego of yours.” Mark was her specialist manager. They’d met two years back while she’d been out surfing, like she did every morning. As she was packing up he’d approached her and asked her if she’d ever modeled before. Her answer had been a firm ‘not interested’. He’d been so desperate for clients he’d come down to the beach every morning to ask her. Eventually she’d caved.

Mark’s sarcastic voice came through the receiver, “Darling, I’m hurt.” He changed to a more professional tone, “But hey, look. I was around trying to set you up with another modelling job and I got a little side track. I ended up checking my emails and received one from a guy named Paul Rosenberg.”

“Right,” Riley dragged, waiting for him to get to the point. He’d said ‘Paul Rosenberg’ like it was meaningful but she couldn’t put a face to the name. Jamming her phone between her ear and her shoulder she picked up her towel.

“You have no idea who he is, do you?”

“Not a clue,” Riley returned, rubbing down her legs and returning the phone back in her hand, chucking the towel back into her bag.

“He’s Eminem’s manager and he’s looking for a very pretty lady to help shoot a music video.”

Riley nearly dropped the phone, “Music video? For Eminem?”

“Hell yeah, am I the best manager or what?” Mark seemed absolutely thrilled. He’d always been an optimist.

Riley threw a loose dress over her bikini and sighed, “Mark… I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m a model, not an actress…”

“Don’t freak out, darling,” Mark assured with confidence. “You don’t have to do anything particularly hard. I’ve taken a look at the project plan. I’ve sent it through to your email so it’ll be there when you drag your ass off that beach.”

“How’d you know I was here? Still spying?” She teased.

Mark just chuckled on the other end of the line, “You’re as predictable as a cardboard box.”

Riley hesitated in giving him an answer. Mark was a fantastic manager but he had a habit of biting off more than he could chew. Things usually always worked out but it was never a relaxing ride. She couldn’t imagine what the script would entail.

“Come on, Riley,” Mark said, softly, knowing she was heavily doubting his decision making skills. “When have I ever let you down?”

As convincing and gentle as Mark sounded, she was still skeptical. But it was a big opportunity that she couldn’t pass up because of ‘that feeling’ in her gut. “Fine, I’ll look at it.”

“Atta girl, give me a call when you’ve read it through so we can get talking.”

She cut the connection and threw her phone in the bag. Mark had officially lost it. If asking her to be a model with absolutely no experience wasn’t crazy enough, this had just topped it. She’d been lucky. She was better had posing that she thought and stuck mostly to photographs that cat-walks. But this was a whole new ball game.

It was one thing to stand in front of a camera and pull a cliché pose but to act on a music video was a much bigger demand. But off course her lack of experience hadn’t scared off Mark. He’d just gone for it like a dog with a bone. Sighing, she almost prayed that the audition would go horrible just so she could rub it in his face.

Shoving her board back into its over and zipping up the sandy beach bag, Riley stumbled across the road and into her apartment building. As usual, the modern foyer was empty and the doorman had the same unimpressed frown on his face like he had every morning. She was well aware that she was still dripping wet and was leaving sand on the perfectly clean tiles as she marched over to the elevator.

She’d gotten into numerous arguments with the doorman about the mess she left every morning but there was nothing in her contract for her apartment about getting the foyer wet so there was little he could do about it. These days he just kept his mouth shut and put out a wet floor sign. Which was the way she liked it.

Riley reached her apartment door and shoved her hand into the bag, digging around for her keys. Her hand grasped everything but what she wanted. Letting out a grunt she carefully balanced her board against the wall and opened the bag fully, using both hands to try and find them.

“Looking for these?” The long, drawling voice came from Riley’s left and she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from groaning. Turning her head, she saw a lanky man standing in the hallway, holding up a set of colored keys. It was Richard, although she preferred to call him by a shorter name.

“Hi, Dick,” She bit with special emphasis. Her tone was about as friendly as someone whose dog had pissed on their bed. Stepping far to close with a stupid ‘happy-happy-joy-joy’ stride, he edged right up to her, leaning on her apartment door with his forearm. They’d first met when Riley moved into the apartment building and Dick had been far too keen to get into her pants. Engaged to be married Dick, she might add.

“You dropped these in the hall this morning,” He clarified. At least he hadn’t stolen them, which she wouldn’t’ve put past the sleaze. Snatching them out of his grasp, she shoved the key into the door and unlocked it. “So, Riley… listen… If you’re not doing anything-”

“Dick, I swear to god,” She grunted, giving the door a good shove when it refused to open. “If I had a dollar for every time you asked me out, I’d have enough money to move away from you.” Her words hardly held him back. He even had the audacity to laugh, as if it was a joke. When he tried to step inside she motioned him to stay put as she grabbed her board off the wall, angrily.

Shuffling it inside, she placed her hand on the door, ready to slam it in his face. “Riley… don’t’ be like this.”

“I don’t know what I have to do to get it through your head, Dick. It’s not going to happen. Ever.” Without hesitation, Riley slammed the door shut with a crack.