Part I
So here he was again. Home, and alone in California. Big fucking house and no one in it but a fucking recording of his daughter’s voice on the answering machine. There were no family dinners in that house, no holidays, nothing that made it feel like, home. So why did he call it home? Wasn’t home in Detroit? Hadn’t it always been Detroit? Isn’t that what he sang about, wrote about, talked about, regaled stories about? The good old crappy days, they were in Detroit. But he didn’t want to be there.
Detroit was where his mother was. Where his brother was, and grandmother and Aunt Betty were. Where Ronnie was buried. Where Kim was married to her new husband and where his little girl lived, the little girl that had been taken away from him the last time they were in court. No visiting rights, not even phone calls unless Kim relented and remembered that at one time they had cared for one another. Though looking back on it he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. Pulling a gun on the guy and Kim was pretty stupid. He was lucky he wasn’t in jail.
But what did it matter? It was stupid to think that one day he might have a real old fashioned family Christmas one year. Turkey in oven, Hailie dressed up and decorating the tree, presents for him to wrap, toys to put together, and a wife, that actually cared about him.
He’d moved on from Kim. He’d long since realized that they were not going to get back together. They just had too much going on and too much bitterness between them. He stored away the good times, only pulling those out when he really wanted to be reminded of her.
Now he’d settle. He wanted to settle. He was going soft in the brain. He was only thirty three, and he wanted to settle. He had to get out, out of this fucking house. God damn mother fucking house!
The gated community he lived in didn’t offer much in the way of nearby dives to get drunk in, but about half an hour down the road was a place that he could get a drink without being noticed and be left alone. So that’s where he went, it was better than where he was, and where he was, was cold and dank and empty. Not where he wanted to be.
He drove the distance, some rap station playing a low tone in the car, though he wasn’t really listening to it. It was out of habit, it was something to keep the silence from dragging in.
The bar was on the far side of a little plaza, lit up with loud bright parking lot lights. Aside from the bar the plaza played host to a diner, grubby completely, a bait shop, pool store, boat supplies and various other little things that a small town required. Wanting to stretch his legs, he parked at the farther end of the lot and got out.
The stink of diner food and rotting garbage was thick in the air and putrid to say the least. Marshall felt his nose crinkle and sniff involuntarily, eyes opening wide in surprise as he took in the awful reek. He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets, walking on the sidewalk, looking up at the glowing scenes of people eating behind the glass.
“Fuck you Earl! I told you I wasn’t staying and you got that right!” Marshall looked up ahead of him and saw a scene that was all too familiar to him. Getting thrown out and fired from a crappy job.
“You been lying and stealing every since you got here you no good slut!” People like that rarely changed scripts, Marshall realized. Either you lied, or you stole, those were the crimes that you had committed when you disagreed with the boss.
“I never stole a god damn thing from you!” There it was, the high pitched annoyance at being accused of stealing when you never had. Had the opportunity to steal, seen other people steal, but you yourself had never done the stealing.
“I could have you arrested for the money you stole, for selling that dope in the back, I ought to call the fucking cops and have you towed away from here!” The threat, ah, now that he was very familiar with.
“Who the fuck you accusing of stealing money! You fucking dock my pay every time you missing a fucking dime! I ain’t never fucking stole from you!” The truth that would be denied no matter what.
“Fucking prostitute, filthy no good white trash!” The final insult, and yup, there it was.
Marshall saw the woman that had been yelling on the porch of the diner dive at the man she’d been fighting with. It didn’t take long, and before he realized the position he was in, she was hurtling down the stairs and fell right on top of him.
They clambered to the ground and tangled in one another.
“God damn mother fucking piece of shit bastard!” she screamed rearing up, but by then the guy was gone and there was nothing to do about it.
“SHIT!” she screamed lancing her fist into the aluminum siding of the building. After a minute or so, while she calmed down, she realized that Marshall was standing there.
“Ah crap man, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to get involved, shit man, I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t step on anything important,” she said turning towards him. Marshall rubbed his chin slightly and looked at her.
“Nah, I’m fine, you okay? That’s quite a flight a stairs.”
“Yeah, I guess, dammit, why’s this shit always happen? Fucker,” she shook her head and banged the siding a bit again.
“I’ve been there, more than once, I think they all know the script by heart or something,” Marshall remarked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and kicking a bottle cap off the walkway. She was still breathing heavily, and her face was still flushed, anger took some cooling time. But she laughed.
“Yeah, they must, look man, thanks for breaking my fall,” she said putting out a hand. Marshall fished a hand out of his pocket and shook it.
“No problem, see ya around.”
They parted. Marshall felt bad for her and had actually considered buying her a drink, at least he wouldn’t be alone. Jesus Christ, now he was feeling lonely, he needed booze, bad.
After her episode with her boss, the woman had waved goodbye to Marshall and pulled out her keys, heading into the parking lot. He could still see her walking across the expanse of asphalt in the wide-open parking lot under the lights, hear her keys jangling. She opened the door and climbed in, and Marshall waited for the starting of the engine, but it didn’t come. He kept walking, still waiting but the sound never came. He ventured a look towards her and noticed she’d gotten out of the car and was popping the hood.
“Goddamn mother fucking piece of shit!” she shouted, kicking the fender. He stopped.
“Car trouble?” Marshall called.
“Of course, just in case the night couldn’t be better!” she called back, allowing the lid to slam shut.
“Anything I can help you with!” he yelled back across to her.
“Na, it’s finally dead, not much I can do with that.” Marshall decided that maybe she needed some company as bad as he did, and took a chance. Stepping off the sidewalk and across the parking lot he came to a stop about five feet from her, so as not to appear threatening.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Transmissions shot, lets see what else can happen tonight,” she replied, leaning back on the car and folding her arms.
“I’m going over to the bar, buy you a drink?” he asked.
“That is the best offer I’ve had in about three years, so yeah, I’ll take you up on that.” It looked like the first time she’d actually smiled in days. It was a raw and cracked smile, coming after days of crap.
They walked along across the parking lot in silence to the bar, both wondering what the hell they were doing with the other, but not wanting to say anything. They were both sick of being lonely, though they’d never admit it. He held the door open for her and she nodded her thanks stepping right up to the bar.
“What’ll have?” the bar keep asked.
“You?” Marshall asked looking up at her.
“Beer, whatever you got,” she replied. Marshall got two bottles and handed over one to her, suggesting they grab a table towards the back where a single empty booth remained, a yellow bulb illuminating the nook in the hole that was the bar. They sat down, both quiet for a moment, swigging at the beers to keep themselves busy.
“Oh, I’m Coral by the way,” she said after a moment.
“Marshall,” he nodded as did she.
“Wow, can this get anymore awkward?” Coral asked after a minute.
“I suppose so. Not having a good day?”
“Try a week. Caught my boyfriend, screwing around with my best friend, in our bed, and then I got kicked out of my apartment, because of him, top it off with having to move in with my sister, losing my job, and now my car dying, I’ve just about had it.” She took a long swig on the beer before putting the bottle down on the table and examining it.
“What about you?” she asked looking up at him.
“Well, I pulled a gun on my ex-wife and her husband, nearly got put in jail, lost all visitation rights to my daughter, and now, I got nothing to go home to.”
“Both doing pretty good I’d say,” she laughed.
“What say we both just get so drunk that the room starts to spin?” he asked.
“Sounds good to me, cheers!” they clinked bottles and threw back what was left in them before ordering another round.
Marshall woke up with a splitting headache, he must have drunk a lot that night, which made him wonder, how the hell had he gotten, where ever it was, right now? Someone moved beside him, shit, he’d managed to pick up someone, this wasn’t going to be a fun morning.
Wait a minute, Coral, that must be who he was with. He turned over slowly, and sure enough, there she was. They were both clothed, which seemed strange, at the moment, considering, but he’d done stranger things while he was drunk.
“Jesus, what the hell kind of beer was that?” she asked sitting up and rubbing her head.
“And how the hell did we get here?” she asked, looking around.
“Shit, this is my house,” Marshall said, suddenly realizing and recognizing his surroundings.
“I don’t remember driving,” she said looking over at him.
“I don’t either.”
“Shit, what the hell did we do?” she asked looking around, also realizing that she was fully clothed.
“Fuck, what if I hit somebody, shit,” Marshall stood up and frantically looked around for his keys, finding them still in his pocket, but he pulled out a receipt with them.
“Yellow cab, for last night, we’re okay, thank god, just what I need, a DUI on my license, or killing somebody.” He sank down on the bed and rubbed his face into his hands.
“You got any aspirin around here, I got a headache about the size Guam,” Coral remarked as she stood up.
“Yeah, in the bathroom, first cabinet.”
“Thanks.” Marshall listened to her walk away on the carpet, and the soft click of the bathroom door closing. He held his face in his hands for a minute, trying to block out the sun from his pounding head.
He heard Coral return and a familiar dip in the bed to his right.
“Here, you look like you got one too,” he turned to see she was holding out a glass and some pills.
“Thanks,” he took the pills with his left hand, depositing them in his mouth and then taking the water to wash them down.
“You’re married?” Coral asked, motioning to his left hand.
“No, divorced, why you ask?”
“Cause you’re wearing a wedding ring, I don’t remember that from last night,” she replied. He finally had a chance to notice what she looked like, though he had cataloged her features when he’d first seen her, and filed them away for later perusal. She was a beauty, he decided, and would have to take a little more time to be satisfied with the study, but now was not the time.
“A wedding ring?” he picked up his hand, and sure enough there was band of gold around his ring finger.
“What the hell? This ain’t even the ring I had when I was with Kim,” he remarked, wow, he really must have gone off the deep end.
“I think we drank a little too much last night. Look, it was fun, I think, but would you mind if I just cut out of here and called a cab?” He was still looking at the ring on his hand. This was weird.
“Uh hang on, I’ll get it for you,” he replied quickly, looking over at her.
“You don’t have to, actually, I can just go to the gate house there, and have the gate person have a cab pick me up there, that way you don’t have any awkward questions to answer and paparazzi won’t bother you.”
“You know who I am?” he asked.
“Who doesn’t?”
“I suppose, but hang on, I can at least drive you to the gatehouse,” he replied rolling over to the bedside stand. He grabbed his wallet and noticed a paper sticking out of it. He wrinkled his nose and felt his brows knit together in confusion. The paper unfolded slightly as he pulled it out and flattened it against the bed.
“Shit,” he breathed as he looked over the paper.
“What?” Coral asked peeking up from over the side of the bed, where she was pulling her shoes out from under the edge.
“I guess I am married,” Marshall said, his eyes going wide. Coral grabbed her shoes and took them to sit on the edge of the bed so she could put them on.
“Well, then, my regards to the wife and all the more reason I should get out of here,” Coral replied taking a shoe in her hand. She glanced down at her foot to tie the laces and shrieked.
“Holy fuck!” She held up her hand and noticed the similar gold band on her finger, though hers had a diamond set in the middle of it.
“What the hell!” she screamed.
“We got married last night,” Marshall said, his eyes closing as he shook his head.
“What do you mean we got married last night!” Coral crawled across the bed and grabbed the paper.
“A marriage license? Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Coral was nearly starting to hyperventilate.
“I can’t believe we got that drunk.” Marshall said, finally opening his eyes.
“Well, we got to get this taken care of, I mean Marshall, you’re a nice guy and all, and I’m sure you pretty good in bed, if I could remember but, I don’t want to be married to you, I don’t want to be married to anybody, especially after one night! Oh my god, this is just not good, not good, this week just keeps getting better!”
“Chill, if Britney Spears can have a marriage annulled in twenty four hours, I certainly can.” He reached for the phone and watched as Coral paced the room, trying desperately to pull the ring off her finger.
“What the hell do you mean six months! No Paul, today! Yesterday this needed to be done! No friggen way! You better figure out what you’re going to do about this!” Coral rolled her eyes as she listened to Marshall screaming at his lawyer. The stupid ring was not coming off. What was worse was that stupid marriage license, lying there, glaring at her.
MARSHALL MATHERS AND CORAL MATTHEWS
WED APRIL 9TH 2006
There were signed witnesses and the thing was notarized. Legal. Disgusting. Her sister was going to kill her. Why the hell was the ring not coming off! Why the hell couldn’t she remember last night?
Marshall ran his hand through his short hair, it stuck up, it was cute and messy, Coral nearly giggled but then remembered, she was in a house, with a guy, she was married too after meeting him in a parking lot. She couldn’t even figure out how far she was from San Francisco. She needed to get back so she could start looking for a new job.
“Why is it going to take so long? Because it’s not legal unless it’s for six months or more? I don’t believe that.” He paused and looked over at the marriage license. Coral was still pacing.
“All right, then how long is it going to make a divorce final?” Marshall sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again. Coral looked at him worriedly.
“But she wouldn’t do that,” Marshall said quickly, eyes darting to hers.
“That’s still too long.” He muttered.
“Look, we’ll have to figure out something. You know Dre is going to kill me when he finds out about this, not to mention the tabloids.” He paused again.
“Okay, no, you come here, yeah, she’ll be here, okay, bye Paul.” He snapped his phone shut and looked over at Coral who was standing with worried eyes as she yanked at the ring on her finger.
“So? What’s the deal?” she asked.
“It could take an upwards of six months to get this thing over with, longer maybe. As long as you don’t drag a lawyer into this.” He replied.
“Look, I want the same thing as you do, not to be married. I got no agenda to be dealing with. I have enough problems as it is,” she snapped.
“Good, then we’ll probably have this over and done with in a few weeks, lots of paper work and shit,” Marshall sneered.
“What is the big deal?” Coral asked.
“Well, Paul thinks you might try and use this to get money out of. You know, go to the press, sell your story, that kind of thing.”
“Oh yeah, that’s my top priority right now, making sure you get your face in the papers. Look Marshall, just to let you know, I’m not any happier about this than you are. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to know where I’m supposed to be,” she asked. Her stance was agitated, standing with a hip pushed out and her arms crossed.
“What does it matter?” he snapped.
“Because I have to move to San Francisco today, that’s where my sister lives,” she replied.
“Well, you ain’t going anywhere cause Paul is coming tomorrow and you need to be here. He’s gonna explain all the disclosure contracts and such to you.” Marshall replied.
“Then can I at least make a phone call?”
“What, to your lawyer?”
“No, to my sister, at least she can help me get the stuff out of my apartment so I don’t have to make two trips.”
“Well, fine, as long as you’re here tomorrow,” Marshall warned.
“Yeah, my sister, the lawyer,” she snapped.
“Pearl, no Pearl, you need to listen. Pearl, please, listen to me. Pearl, please, just, Pearl!” Coral shouted over the phone. She was in the kitchen, pacing, again as she tried to get her sister’s attention.
“YOU ARE IN FUCKING LOS ANGELES MARRIED TO EMINEM! YOU EXPECT ME TO LISTEN TO YOU!” Marshall even heard that as Coral held the phone away from her ear.
“Nice sister,” he remarked as he walked past her and towards the coffeepot.
“Not taking the news well, she always wanted to be the first one married,” Coral replied, tentatively putting the phone back up to her ear. She leaned up against the wall, listening to her sister and sighed.
Marshall was going to take the time to look at her now and examine her properly. Last night had been for drinking, no time to take in the features and the idea of beauty this girl portrayed. This morning had been time for panicking and freaking out about what they had done.
She leaned against the wall, casually, her ankles crossed as she stood, the bright red shoelaces standing out against the white of the sneakers. She wore simple clothes, a pair of loose fitting bell-bottom jeans in a dark blue shade and a fitted white T-shirt under a denim jacket that matched the jeans. Her hair was a bit longer than past her shoulders and a soft brown, not entirely straight, a little wavy and a little messy. A few little braided bracelets of colored thread showed on one skinny wrist along with that wedding band she hadn’t been able to pull off yet. Her body was lithe but not skinny, she was a normal sized girl. Her neck was long and her face finely shaped into an oval. Her lips matched her name, smiling wide and genuinely when she did was with a full bloom of teeth and lips. Her eyes were the closest match to an actual coffee and cream he had ever seen. They were the lightest brown eyes and he swore they were almost gold.
“Yeah I know Pearl, look, I didn’t do it on purpose. I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up, I didn’t do this just to screw up your weekend.” Coral spoke low and sounded like a kicked puppy.
“Hey, uh Marshall, could I get the address for here?” Coral asked looking over at him. She didn’t seem to notice that he’d been looking at her.
“Yeah,” he rattled the address off and she repeated it to her sister over the phone.
“Okay, yeah, yes! All right, I’ll see you later, bye.” She hung up the phone, a little defeated.
“Problem?” Marshall asked.
“I hope you don’t mind, but my sister Pearl is coming to get me, then we’ll be packing up my apartment, and then staying here, that is, if you don’t mind,” Coral asked, “Well, that’s what she told me we were doing, I usually don’t have that much of a choice when it comes to what she wants. Besides, she usually just invites herself places.”
“No, that’s fine, I was going to suggest that anyway, since Paul is going to be here early, we can get this taken care of.” Marshall replied.
“Just to let you know, sorry in advance,” Coral replied with a grimace.
“For what?” he watched her bite a red painted nail.
“For Pearl, she’s a bit over bearing.”
“I can handle her.”
“I hope so.” They were quiet. Now what?
“So….now what?” Coral asked looking over at him from under her veiled eyes.
“You want some breakfast?”
They were sitting at the table eating in relative silence until Marshall decided that if he had to be married to this woman for any amount of time, he should get to know a few things about her.
“All right, so what’s the mystery with you?” he asked.
“Mystery?”
“Yeah, what’s the story behind Coral? Where you from, family, occupation, you know regular shit,” he took a bite of the cereal out of the bowl in front of him and crunched it noisily.
“Okay, I’m from Texas originally, occupation unemployed cook, family, mom and dad, Cordelia and Jasper Matthews, attorneys at law, run their own practice in San Francisco with my four sisters Pearl, Onyx, Turquoise, and Opal, and my brother Mica.”
“Jesus Christ, got a pretty family then?” Marshall remarked.
“My parents seem to think so. We actually call Turquoise, turkey, it’s her nickname.”
“What about you?”
“Just Coral.”
“It’s a nice name.”
“Thanks, I still think I was named for the color of my lips, I’ve never seen anyone with lips as orange as mine. No matter what I try, lipsticks, I still got these things.” She laughed and superstitiously put a hand up to cover her lips.
“I think they look good, on you, out of ordinary, it’s a nice change.”
“Thanks, I think,” Coral looked at him unsteadily but he just plowed on.
“So, one of six, ouch. The youngest?”
“Of course.”
“All lawyers, and you’re not?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“I just never could get into it.”
“No pressure, right?” he laughed slightly and she nodded.
“My parents weren’t too happy with my decision not to go to law school.”
“So what did you go to school for?”
“I didn’t. Parents refused to help me go school, so I couldn’t afford it on my own. I’ve been working and supporting myself since I got out of high school.”
“What did you want to go to school for?”
“Cooking. I was accepted to the Cour Don Bleu in France, but, I couldn’t afford it. So, I started working at restaurants and diners,” she took a bite at her cereal and swallowed hard while he studied her. He shook his head in annoyance, what a load of crap.
“That’s bullshit. Get accepted to a place like that and can’t even go. You must have been like, I don’t know, something, to get accepted in a place like that.”
“Yeah, I took first place in all the so called ‘placement tests’, you know, you cook something, they judge it, it’s kinda like an admissions essay for another college. I paid all the entry fees myself, won all the points and such, but without the money, I couldn’t go. No big deal really. One day I’ll save up enough, I can go whenever I save up the money.”
“Why not a student loan?”
“No credit, and I really don’t want to have to have that under my belt the second I step out the doors. It would take forever to pay them off. It costs fifteen grand a semester there, not including living costs. Dormitory is a whole other fee of around three thousand a semester.”
“That sucks.”
“You’re telling me. Now I have to stay with my sister, not to mention the rest of the family, conveniently they all live in the same apartment building. And for the next however many months I’ll be trying to avoid the constant daggers of ‘see this is why you should have gone to law school’ or ‘well you can just start now and you’ll work in the office’ while I’m looking for a job at a restaurant. Oh so much fun.”
“Damn.” Coral suddenly sat back and shook her head.
“Shit, I’m dragging you into a bunch of shit you don’t want to hear about, I’m sorry, just tell me to shut up,” she said, annoyed at herself.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know. Besides, I got to know something about my wife, don’t I?” he laughed but she scowled.
“I hardly find this funny.”
“Just a joke, Jesus, take it easy.” Marshall remarked.
“I don’t need this right now. I don’t need Pearl coming to pick me up like I’m a two year old, I don’t need my parents pointing out every single thing I’ve ever done wrong.” Coral pressed her fingers to her forehead.
“Then why don’t you just move somewhere else, move back to Texas,” Marshall replied, noticing the trapped feeling in the voice. There wasn’t much to do when you were broke and had no formal education to help you out.
“I can’t afford to move. They don’t lie when they say money makes the world go round. Dammit, this is not gonna be good.” She looked at her wrist watch, noting the time.
“You got somewhere to be?”
“No. I just wish that Pearl could get here and get my ‘punishment’ over with. I’m going to get lectured from here, to the apartment, back to here, all night, through tomorrow and then all the way back to San Francisco.”
“And you’re?”
“Twenty six. That’s what I get for being the youngest, I’m the eternal kid. Anyway, look, you mind if I just take a walk in your backyard?”
“I’ll go with you.” Coral’s brow nearly folded in confusion.
“What? I gotta get out of this house sometimes too, and it is my backyard you know,” Marshall replied at her confused look. He stood and put his bowl into the sink.
“We didn’t have sex last night, did we?” she asked. He stopped and leaned back against the sink, thinking seriously.
“Honestly, I don’t think we did. I remember the bar, I remember, getting up to go to the bathroom, then I came back, but after that, it’s really a blur. But if we were that out of it, I doubt either of us would have gotten up to put our clothes back on after we fucked,” he replied.
“I don’t think we did either. Damn, I got to remember not to drink that shit again.” She stood and deposited her bowl as well before he motioned for her to follow him.
The yard was moderately sized, enough area for baseball diamond and sparse for decoration. The grass was lush and green, perfectly manicured, golf course perfect. There was a pool of course, a decked out patio complete with grill, wet bar and nice patio furniture. Everything looked as though it were brand new, never been used, there just for the show of it.
“You have a nice place,” Coral remarked.
“Don’t get a chance to enjoy it really.”
“No?”
“Don’t have a lot of local friends or family to visit, it’s just me here.”
“No maid or something?”
“There’s a cleaning service that comes through once a week, but there’s usually not much to do.” They walked along the fence in silence for a few minutes.
“So why did you ask me for a drink?”
“I thought you might like some company, same as me.”
“Oh. I suppose it does get lonely now and then, being a celebrity, on the road all the time, no one here when you come home,” she remarked looking over at him. He shrugged. She continued.
“I used to think sometimes that me and my boyfriend would eventually settle down. He’s a lot more successful than me. He’s a stockbroker, does international trading and such. Though, come to think of it, we didn’t see each other that much. He was always away on business, and me as a cook, working nights and weekends, holidays of course, we didn’t get a chance really.” Marshall marveled at Coral, how easily she could open up and talk to him about her personal life. Though perhaps he was getting soft, at another time he might have just told her to shut up, but she was interesting enough, and willing to share with him. He hadn’t met anyone that was apt to talk to him for anything more than an autograph.
“I’m talking way too much. Jeez man, you got this effect on people, why can’t I shut up around you?” she laughed.
“Really, I don’t mind.”
“Wow.”
“Just look at it this way, by tomorrow, you’ll be out of here, and you’ll never have to see me again, and it’s not like you have to worry about me running to the tabloids,” he laughed, and she smiled.
“Yeah, you’re right on that one. So, what can you tell me about you?” she asked.
“I don’t need to tell you anything about me,” he replied steadily not bothering to look over at her.
“I’m not going to a tabloid to give them a story about you okay? Besides, I don’t listen to much music anyway. I haven’t bought a CD since 1999, and all I got is country. The only thing I know about you is that your stage name is Eminem, and people make a big shitting deal out of your lyrics, cause they’re too violent or something,” Coral explained.
“You think my music is too violent?” Marshall asked looking at her.
“I’ve never listened to it, and it’s not for me to say.”
“But your opinion. Honestly, what do you think?” Marshall asked seriously.
“Honestly? Well, if your music is violent, as violent as ‘they’ say it is, and you have ‘their’ little parental warning label on it, what else can you do? I still say that if parents don’t want their kids listening to something, then they need to stop it themselves. It’s not your responsibility or anyone’s responsibility than the parents’.” Marshall didn’t know what to say to that so he didn’t say anything at all for a long moment.
“So, tell me more about you.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Uh, the general warnings. I don't know Eminem, and blah blah, you know the rap sheet. I'm not making any money.
This story is very tame, there is a little bit of language used and not much else. But as always, use your own judgement. I don't respond to hate mail!
This story is very tame, there is a little bit of language used and not much else. But as always, use your own judgement. I don't respond to hate mail!
