Weight Issues

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*Setting: In the studio October 1999 in Los Angeles recording the chronic 2001. Room is full of people like the D.O.C., Snoop, Xzibit, Devon the Dude etc. and of course Em and Dre. The studio is full of people having fun, cracking jokes, and making music. Eminem is eating random snacks and drinking a soda while waiting for an assistant to come back with KFC for the group*

*Note: sentences without note of who said them are said by random people in the studio group *

(Marshall's POV)

"Em, if you keep eating snacks like that you're gonna end up lookin like Dre."

The room bursted into laughter, Marshall started to chuckle while popping a chip into his mouth. He looked over at Dre and noticed that he wasn't laughing along. Marshall stopped laughing.

"Hey y'all that's not funny." Marshall stated

"We just playin wit you man."

"Yeah. Don't worry about it slim... You'd have to eat a lot worse than that to end up looking like Dre."

"Ay. Ay If he looked like Dre we wouldn't be able to call him SLIM shady no more!"

The room erupted in laughter again. He looked over at Dre again and he could tell that Dre was biting the inside of his cheek.

Dre had told Marshall before, months ago, that if anyone ever asked him personal questions in an interview or something and he felt like he was going to cry, to just bite his cheek. It was supposed to make you focus on the physical pain instead of the emotional pain. Now he always bit his cheeks when he was trying not to cry.
That's exactly what Dre was doing.
The laughter died down and before another joke could be made, Marshall started talking about whatever else he could think of. Rhymes. The beat. Literally anything else.

Eventually the attention was drawn back to the music. Dre had developed the beat enough that every rapper in there was nodding their heads and writing their verses, himself included. He'd stop every once in a while to watch Dre do his thing on the sound board. How the hell he made such whole beats was a complete mystery to him. The man was a genius. The group started to take turns sharing small snippets of what they had written in order to determine who deserved the rights to Dre's new beat. The session was dismantled by 2 assistants carrying bags that contained multiple buckets of fried chicken and sides from KFC. It was one of the cheapest ways Dre could keep the Aftermath staff fed.

The group tore into the food. Marshall was starved. Between everything going on in his life with his new found fame, he found himself often forgetting to eat. He and Dre would go full days without remembering to eat until late into the night. Today was one of those days. He got himself a plate and started to chow down with the others before he realized that Dre was still standing at the board, not even pressing buttons, just standing there.

"Hey Dre. Food's here, man." Marshall said

"I know." Dre responded blankly

"You're not hungry?" Marshall asked. He knew neither of them had eaten since the day before.

"Dre's not hungry?! That's something I ain't never heard before!"

Laughter spread throughout the room before Dre could respond.

"I'm just focused, that's all." Dre said without ever turning away from the board.

"Ay let him be man, you know how Dre gets. He can't turn from the beat once he gets it going."

"Yeah let the maestro work, Em."

Rather than trying to fight it Marshall went back to minding his own business and continued to eat and joke with the others while Dre's smooth sonics played in the background. After a while he noticed that it didnt sound like the beat was being changed anymore and he turned to find that Dre was no longer there. He had a habit of being able to disappear unnoticed.

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