Game Shakers / Ch. 03
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
Pairing: Eminem x OFC!
Warning(s): Cursing, Drug Abuse, Racial Discrimination, Sexual Assault, more may be on the way as the story progresses
Summary: 2000s is quite the highlight between the fashion and rise of pop culture. Seemingly the new faces of shock value, rapper Marshall Mathers and rockstar King Woods finds a common ground amongst the unnecessary bullsh*t.
2019
“When I say that Marshall is a charmin’ son’f a bitch, I f*cking mean it,” King laughs, shaking her head.
“Why is that?”
“So, after the VMAs, there was an after party, right?” She rhetorically asks. “I hate those damn things with my soul, but we had to stick it out until we were allowed to go home.”
A huge smile begins to grow across her face, “Matteo had made a deal with me that day and it was, if I could stay there for like… half an hour, I could leave early and Marshall walks into the party…”
1999
Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, N*SYNC, and whoever the f*ck else crowded surrounded the venue on top of the heaping bodies of their plus ones and management teams, maybe even sneaky fan and paparazzi here and there.
Sitting in a section on the 2nd, per King’s request, the sixtet drank and made jokes about… well, they made not so nice jokes. They people watched from the balcony, amused at how such televised royalties could act so trashy under the influence. It was so stupid. This entire sh*t-tick was stupid.
Nursing her beer, she added the occasional hums into the conversation as her friends actively talked. “f*ck, work,” Matteo smiled, “we can talk about it later. Iris, Tink, how’s your lovers?”
The two laughed, shaking their heads at the mocking sounds of kissing. Tink spoke first, “Carson’s doing fine. I’m sure he lost his mind when we won our awards and performed. He’s like our #1 fan, he just needs the f*cking styrofoam finger.”
They laughed, picturing the 6’7” sized man jumping with that damn finger on his hand - that is, if there was one big enough for his hands. Irish then chimed in, “Terrance is good, too. We’ve been hustling about, getting our sh*t in order for the wedding.”
“Speaking of which,” Maliyah trailed, “did you guys speak on making your relationship public or keeping it private?” Iris nodded, “we want to go public, but we’re thinking about doing it after the wedding.”
Everyone nodded before continuing. King glanced over the balcony to meet a pair of cerulean eyes staring up at her. Paired with such beautiful features was bleach blond hair and slightly chapped lips that sat in a natural pout. A small smile stretched across her face and before she could stop herself, she waved him up.
With a small smile of his own, he sent a nod her way and made his way to the stairs with Dre and Proof following behind. He weaved around the crowd, never leaving her own. Just footsteps away from her table, he nearly started speed walking to sit beside her.
“Uh, hey,” he greeted softly, chubby cheeks pulled back to reveal a small smile and hidden dimple.
Charmed, King leaned against the booth, smiling. “Howdy,” she laughed, sipping her drink. "How'd you like your first award show?" He shrugs, eyes bouncing around the venue to avoid her dark ones.
"It's a'ight," he answered, "it's crowded and the whole carpet thing is stupid as hell." King snorted, "you ain't say nothin' but a word. At our first event, journalists were calling me a bitch all because I couldn't be bothered to play stupid."
The two shared a laugh. Marshall fumbled with a loose thread on his button up, debating on his next move when he suddenly blurted: "Just like how that reporter tried to get you slandering my name, huh?"
Instantly, the two perk up, waiting for the other to make their move. King made her's first, setting her drink down with a sigh. "I'm guessing she then snitched away? If there's one thing not alot are warned when signing their life away, these industry folks are snakes."
"From your colleagues in the business down to the reporters," she continued, shaking her head, "you never know who's willing to switch up at the drop of dime."
He added on, "but you and the others didn't. Y'all could've written me off as every name in the headlines and walked off, stirring sh*t just to stir sh*t, but you didn't. Why?"
King bit her lip, memories of her own encounters with the phonies of Hollywood came flooding in. "I've had my fair share of sellouts and backstabbers. I mean, look at the genre I mainly partake in... it's a field of white men projecting their lies and deceit onto us because we're women who aren't afraid to strum a guitar."
"I 'ppreciate it," he hummed, "truly. Speaking of you strummin' a guitar, how'd you even get into all of this anyways? Not to sound like those who wish on my downfall, but wouldn't rock be considered a 'white genre'?" His fingers quoted around the ridiculous phrase.
King smirked, "not really. the genre was created off of blues and jazz, much like country. Hearing us on the radio was far better than Chuck Berry or Little Richard on stage all because they were black and then Elvis came along. Now, flash forward to right now."
Marshall nodded, smirking, "don't tell me you're a country girl. I could handle the whole rock look, you look fine as hell, but country? Like, yeehaw? Oh, nah." King fell into a guffaw, her head falling back against the booth as he watched with satisfaction.
"You're goofy as hell, man," she wiped her eyes. "First off, your yeehaw was off. Secondly, so what if I'm a country girl? Don't tell me that a little accen' can easily push ye' away."
He bit his lip, eyeing her down with a charming side grin. "Mhm," he nodded, "never mind." She raised an eyebrow, "wha'chu mean? I already got'chu thinkin', huh?" She laughed, "regardless, I'm not a country girl, I was raised more in the city than the countryside unlike my parents."
"What'a'bout you? I know, fo'so you're a city boy," she giggled. Marshall playfully smacked his lips, "shut up. I'm from, uh, Detroit. I lived in the trailer park, mostly." King nods, listening closely.
He shrugged, "I mean, I have family in the south. They're from Missouri, I've lived back and forth, but spent most of my time in Detroit." She raised an eyebrow, leaning back, "Missouri roots? I've never been with a Missouri boy before."
"Oh?" Marshall playfully leaned back, his hand laying flat on his heart. "So, I'm takin' you want'a piece of me?" King snickered, bitting the inside of her cheek as a desperate measure to hide her smile. "Never said that. You're just new to me."
He raised an eyebrow now, "oh, so white boys being nice to you is new? Tell me more." King silently side-eyes the younger man, cheesing. Breaking their staredown, Matteo nodded his head at King with a soft smile. "30 minutes is up, King, you can head for the hotel, if you want to."
She nodded, sending him a silent thanks. "What does that mean?" Marshall asked. "Is that an escape plan or somethin'?" She laughed, "yeah. Somethin' like that. Matteo and I usually agree that I stick around this bullsh*t for 30 minutes and then I can head home."
"You're really not a fan of these things, are you?" He acknowledged her truth. She shaked her head, "if I could hate people, I would. If you want, we can hang out somewhere else. I don't have to go back to the hotel."
Marshall sent a small smile her way, "I'm not gonna bother you or anything like that?" King smiled back, "you couldn't, even if you tried." He nodded, "lead the way, then. I'm not picky." The two leave, sending quick waves while ignoring the joking catcalls.
He couldn't believe it, women was a sore topic for him as he tended to lay all the trauma from his mother and the inherited toxicity of Kim onto every other woman in the world, but King gifted him a different perspective. There was an obvious edge to her, it was like some puzzled code, but she didn't allow it to live life through her.
2019
"I don't publicly speak on much when it comes to King and I, and for a reason," Marshall sighs, speaking with every thought. "But, that night was probably the best night of my life back then."
"Since your overdose, you've stated before that there's a number of things from the past you just can't remember. Would say that it's the same for all of your memories with King?"
Marshall nods, "every moment I had with her in the start, I remember. From our good moments to our bad ones, I can think of them and smile. That may be because I always associated her with happiness and relief, or uh, a sense of comfort. I've never had that as a child and I never felt that with Kim."
"Would you say that night, is the night that you fell in love with her?'
"Surprisingly," he pauses, "no. No, that wasn't the night that I fell in love with her."
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