Ain't Nobody Like You

Chapter Nineteen

I pick up a notebook off a nearby table with a very familiar face on the cover, "You have a Britney Spears notebook?" I ask, raising my eyebrow.

"A gift from Paul, you know." Marshall smiles, a bit embarrassed, "If you had any stationary out there, it would have been your face on that cover instead- don't doubt that. Britney's got nothing on you."

I roll my eyes, turning away to hide my smile. He's always so quick to flatter.

"That's where most of the new album was written." he adds.

"Can I look?" I ask, gesturing to the notebook in my hand. Marshall nods without hesitation and I instantly feel honored. Not many song writers, my self included, let just anyone look at their personal song books. 

All the pages are filled with his tiny, sometimes illegible, scrawl. There's no order to any of it, most of it written in diagonal across the page. Different inks, some scribbled out passages. Words written over other words. Lots of single words put together that rhyme. And then there are whole verses, almost complete. None of it makes sense or seem to go together though, but I have no doubt he can decipher it all. I flip through page after page, taking my time looking at his clever rhymes. The whole book is filled, every page- back and front. 

I find where he wrote 'Stan' and pick up on a lot of lyrics from the songs I just heard him play for me a little while ago. But I'm a little surprised when I come across my own name. 

'Katherine Arden' scribbled in his messy handwriting by itself on the corner of the page. Little words and phrases are scattered around that rhyme with it, others crossed out entirely. 'Katie' is written in bigger letters lower down on the page. I put down the book.

"Is this where you always record?" I ask, looking at Marshall. We've been comfortably sitting quietly for a while now, Marshall playing around with some beats on the soundboard as I looked over his lyrics. Neither of us feeling the need to do or say anything, just at ease with each other's company.

"While I'm in Detroit, yeah." He answers, pivoting his chair to face me, "But Me and Paul, you know, we just started our own label. Callin' it Shady Records. Gonna open our own studio and everything."

"That's amazing. Congrats! I didn't know thats something you wanted to do."

"Me neither." he says with a half-smile, "But the more I learned about all this producing shit the more interested I became, you know."

I nod my head, understanding completely. I've only been dipping my toes in the whole producing thing but all I want to do now is learn more. 

"And we already signed my group D12." he continues, "We all made a promise, you know, that if any one of us made it big we'd come back and sign the others. I just happened to be the one to do that, you know what I'm sayin?"

What a sweet pact they all made. And how kind of him to fulfill that for his friends. He could have easily left them all behind, been a jerk, but that's not Marshall. He wants to share his success with the people he loves. He really is a good man.

"Yo I'm hungry. You wanna get some food?" Marshall asks suddenly, standing up and stretching.

I quickly agree, starving since I haven't eaten anything besides a bag of airplane peanuts since I left LA. I grab my jacket, following Marshall as we head out to the exit.

Outside we make our way to his car until I see Murph emerge from the SUV parked not too far away, Jax and Tony inside as well. I've forgotten all about them waiting for me. Even if it is part of their job, I feel so bad.