Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.
| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2
Notes: HEY long time no see, been very busy, very ill, but also wanted to finish this fic because it is a favourite! Hope people still want to see where it's headed and that another chapter can follow soon:)
Masterlist
Oftentimes I wished that I could travel in time.
It sounded like such a childish notion. Time-travel. But I’d think and think and think about it, at times almost constantly.
I would wonder over the past a lot. Over people’s accents and their clothes, if they liked this woman or that man. I’d question whether there was a rhyme or reason to the facts we now know. If there had been a lightbulb moment the day the idea of the plane came into motion, or when Shakespeare wrote his very first play.
And because all I could ever know were photographs, I’d then grow curious over what I couldn’t see, over the sort of smells a person might find there, the colours that the pictures lacked, and the sounds someone might have heard.
But mostly, I would think of travelling into the future.
Not by much.
Maybe just a year or so, a couple of months even.
Just to see how things had changed.
If they even had.
But human nature wasn’t always a curious thing, at our cores we all grew selfish and greedy.
So I would always long to know more, and then start dreaming up ideas. Pondering over a life that I had yet to live.
If I would have children, then how many?
A job I loved, or dreaded…
A person that could be mine for more than I had ever let one person be.
It was all so silly and irrational. And probably wasn’t worth the hassle in the long run honestly.
But it was mine and I supposed that was enough.
That had been enough.
I’d never told anyone about it. About the fact that I often dreamt up all sorts of future versions of myself. Not because I was embarrassed over it, but more so because I was.. well, most of the versions I conjured up were just plain sad.
I really just found it so hard to picture a future where I was truly happy.
Content, even.
It was stupid. So stupid. And it was hard too.
Although recently? All I’d been able to do was think of the now. Happy to just live within the life I had already carved out, with the people I loved.
…
“Oi, what did I say? No energy drinks! I already told you twice in the van.”
Lottie heaved a put-upon sigh as though it was a complete and utter task to withhold herself from picking up the can of Monster she’d just been reaching for. “Danny tell Lia she’s being stupid!” She called out atop the music that was playing overhead.
Danny, who had popped his head up over the aisle just behind us, where he’d been perusing the crisps, parrotted her words, “Lia you’re bein’ stupid.” Then, “Lotts, listen to your elders.”
Another aggrieved huff sounded from the latter, “Swear, what’s the point in even havin’ older siblings when all you two do is spoil all the fun.”
“I’m plenty fun, thank you very much.” Danny argued in defense, although he was grinning at Lottie when he rounded the corner with both arms stockful of an assortment of all sorts– from biscuits to a bunch of bananas.
I raised an eyebrow at the very sight.
“Sure you got everything you need there?” I snarked, before turning to answer Lottie’s earlier sentiment, “And also, fun is taking an unplanned trip to the coast in nothing but a caravan, by the way. Not gettin’ off your nut on additives that’ll only rot your brain.”
My words merely earned me a look of vacant apathy from the girl. “You literally have a fridge stock full of Redbull back home.”
“Yes, I do.” I retorted with a mocking grin. Oh the irony.
Lottie rolled her eyes at me before she wandered away from Danny and I with a mumble of going to see whether or not the petrol station had any of those fancy milkshake machines.
Danny shot me a smirk from over the top of his man-made mountain when she was out of hearing, “Milkshakes ‘ve got just as much sugar, if not more.”
I shrugged at him, uncaring, then turned to reach into the drinks fridge: Marshall had wanted a water and anything with a heavy amount of caffeine. A Redbull was now out of the question though, what with Lottie on my tail, so a crappy Costa coffee would have to suffice.
“We’re almost to the airbnb, you know.” I commented, deciding to throw a lemonade into the mix whilst I was here, “Why are you stockin’ up like you’re waiting for the apocalypse to hit?”
“T gets hangry.” Danny admitted, only a tad bit sheepishly, “Plus, at least this way we’ll definitely have somethin’ in for later– don’t reckon I could stand the thought of another maccies dinner.”
Laughing, I bumped the fridge closed with my hip and made a move towards the confectionary. “It’s been a day, Dan. Dramatic much? Besides, we had chippy for tea last night.”
Dan trailed after me, mindful not to drop anything as he did. “Yeah and maccies for lunch as well as for breakfast. Army food’s shite and I love a burger as much as the next fella, but God if it don’t stink up the van– and I ain’t just talking about the food itself.” His face gave way to a wrinkled grimace at the reminder of the night before, and I couldn’t quite blame him.
“Tadgh’ll have your bollocks if he knew you were complaining.” I chuckled anyway, glancing back teasingly, “Although… I wasn’t the one wanting to share a bed with him.”
“Wanting!” Danny scoffed, offended but still waiting patiently as I picked up a couple bars of chocolate for myself, “I’ll happily swap.”
Amused by the very thought, I threw him a smirk over my shoulder. “Oh yeah? Fancy giving Em a spoon instead then, is that what this is all about?”
Dan spluttered, the tips of his ears reddening at the implication, whilst I cackled happily to myself. It was only by chance that Marshall himself deemed it time to wander in through the automatic doors by the entrance, hat and glasses firmly in place. I glanced back once more just in time to see Danny shoot me a sharp glare and duck behind a shelf to go ahead and pay.
Still snickering, Marshall merely quirked a brow at me from behind those familiar dark shades of his as he approached. “Should I be concerned?”
I had to roll my eyes, though my grin stayed firmly in place, “Why, because I’m smiling?” Em nodded seriously. So in retaliation I simply swatted at his arm when I stepped by him, shaking my head before deigning to change the topic completely. “Van all filled up then?”
A soft hum sounded behind me, following in kind. “Gas is cheaper out here than London.”
“London’s extortionate, my darling. Figured you’d have learnt that by now.” I teased, smiling at him before I settled my procured items down on a counter to work the coffee machine. “What you feelin’ anyway, flat white or… a cappuccino?”
Marshall didn’t really think about it, “Second.”
So what he really meant by that choice was that he didn’t mind sharing then, knowing my preference for the latter. I toyed with the machine’s grubby screen for a moment and then looked back at him when it spurred to life, coffee spluttering into the cup. “Wanting anything else?”
He shrugged lazily, though I noted that his eyes were trailing their way back up my figure. I lifted an eyebrow at the obvious leer. “I can wait a while longer.” He deemed with a sly smirk just before the machine stuttered to a stop.
“Yeah, well, you’ll be waiting a lot longer talkin’ like that with my brother hanging about.” I murmured in reply to him as I turned to fit the to-go cup with a lid.
Marshall merely snorted though, playfully plastering himself along my back just so that he could ‘swipe’ up the other items I had gathered more easily. My eyes narrowed at the gesture, but I couldn’t dim my smile when the man then pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek.
Unfortunately, a cough sounded and we then both turned to find a pair of eyes watching us. Tadgh wore a shit-eating grin, but Lottie appeared a tad bit queasy.
“Is there a way to erase memories yet?” The latter complained, her upper lip curled in disgust, “I feel like I need to wash my eyes out with bleach.”
I rolled mine in turn, then chuckled to myself. “That was nothing, baby sister.”
“You know what they say, if the caravan’s a rockin’ don’t come a knockin’ an’ all that jazz.” T snickered, grin growing when Lottie merely shoved at him. “Awh, come on now, Lottie! They’s just madly in love.”
I sucked in a sharp breath at that, which earned me a strange look from Em before I plastered on a smile and moved to step over towards the counter. “You’re both prats. And where’s Danny got to anyway? I wanna get to the house sometime before midday.” I mentioned, placing the hot coffee down and giving a short nod to the man sat behind the till, “Pump number three as well, please.”
Marshall followed in turn, placing what I’d gathered earlier neatly beside the cup, then Lottie mimicked the action with her array of items.
“He needed a wiz.” Tadgh answered me, throwing a lazy nod over to where the backroom lied.
“Is it a running thing?” Marshall wondered aloud, swiping his card against the scanner before I could even retrieve my purse. “Your family and its constant need to piss.”
“Oi!” Came Lottie’s indignation, quickly soothed by the return of the snacks she’d just picked up.
I pinched the man’s forearm in retribution. “No.”
Then I thought about it– we were frequent wee-ers… “Maybe.”
His smile lifted, more smug now, as we all started to wander towards the exit. He went to reply, but it was in that next moment that the radio station changed and a familiar tune echoed out through the petrol station speakers.
“I walk on water…”
Whilst I immediately cringed at the sudden sound of hearing my own voice, Lottie found the timing of the matter incredibly funny, her bright and wheezing cackles followed us out into the lot whilst I scurried quickly over to the van.
“Oh, piss off!”
–
We did eventually make it to the bnb.
The man letting it had given us a set of keys and a list of instructions when we’d first pulled up, eyeing the caravan with a look of distaste before he’d begged off, claiming that he was needed elsewhere.
Not that I cared much, he got his money and I didn’t have to deal with a twat. So win, win.
Saying that though, the property itself was rather lovely. Just a little shell cottage on the far end of a strip of beach. I say little, it fit the five of us rather comfortably and its garden seemed to stretch out across the grassy plains which then faded into pebbled sand. It was really lovely.
Everyone else had also appeared pretty pleased with my pick before they had all scampered off to claim the best bedroom. I’d taken to lugging in the few bags of shopping we’d picked up from the local big Tesco’s instead, just basic necessities for the two nights we’d be staying but enough for us not to have to have to make a second trip.
“Alright?” Came Danny’s voice as he entered the kitchen behind me, seemingly fine with letting T choose where they’d be laying their heads. Although it wasn’t two seconds later before the idiot was nosing through all of the bags and picking out a pack of biscuits to crack open.
“You’d think you were starved as a child.” I scoffed around a small chuckle whilst continuing to unload the milk and popping in the fridge alongside a block of butter.
Dan made a noise of iffy assent to my claim from where he’d gone and perched by the dining table, gob already wrapped round a chocolate digestive, “Semantics.”
Pulling a face, I shook my head at him. “You’re not using that word right, and we might not have had much as kids but I always made sure you lot didn’t miss a meal.”
“Yeah but,” Danny shrugged, chewing away as happy as Larry, “I didn’t eat as much as I should’ve, we were always skimping and saving where we could. Growin’ boy ‘n all that.”
I went to reply, but he waved me off before I could even finish my next breath.
“Ain’t your fault, Li, know you had it the worst too. Don’t think I didn’t ever notice you hardly eating with us, or living off of the cheap coffee you’d get workin’ down the laundrette. Was just what it was, in’t it?”
Having paused at the heavy topic, as well as the fact that my little brother hadn’t been as naive as I’d once believed growing up, I struggled to find something coherent to say to him. So instead I forced myself to continue unpacking the rest of the shopping, Danny none the wiser to my now waterlogged brain as he continued to prattle on about this and that. Previous subject long lost.
It wasn’t long though before movement just beyond the kitchen window caught my eye and I glanced out on instinct to find Em still standing at the outskirts of the property with his phone outstretched before him.
Rosie had called just as we’d started hauling out the luggage from the van and so I had shooed him off before the man could even think of offering to call her back. It seemed they’d switch to a Facetime call now though because Marshall appeared to be pointing his camera out towards the sea, hand gesturing to the surrounding landmarks.
“That still his girl on the blower?”
Danny’s question broke me from my musings and I hummed in retort. “Should be. Only wish she could be here with us too.”
“Well, I’m sure Em will drag her along on his next trip, right?” My brother mentioned, finally putting down the biscuits so he could come aid me in the last few bits that needed packing away. “Besides don’t he have work and stuff to do before he heads back home anyway, can’t be much fun for a kid.”
“Yeah, but still,” I couldn’t help but say, eyes flickering over to Marshall once more, who was now smiling down at his phone. “You’ll love her, Dan. I just know it. She’s like… all of his best bits rolled up into one person and then more.”
Danny didn’t offer me a reply to that and I caught him smiling sweetly down at me when I finally managed to drag my attention away from the window.
“What?”
He merely chuckled to himself, then shook his head. I nudged his ribs, waiting for a reply. He chuckled again, still grinning away, “Nothing. Jus’ nice to see you like this, you know? Dunno if I ever really have.”
Frowning ever so slightly, I asked, “See me like what?”
His expression softened at my question and his fond smile broadened as he moved to wrap his arm around my shoulders. “Happy.” He answered me, “Nice to see you happy, is all.”
–
Seaside holidays were, well, in simple terms, chaos. Or maybe that was only when you were spending them with a renowned rapper, one hormonal teenage girl, and two idiots who seemed to be falling madly in love the longer they hung around one another.
I swear, it was great seeing Danny all loved up, really great even. But I swore if the pair of them didn’t stop making googly eyes across the settee at each other then I was going to set up camping beds in the garden.
We had all decided to explore the shore not long after arriving, but then Tadgh had gotten hungry and Lottie bored, so Danny had suggested that we head into town and see what was about.
I, on the other hand, had still been suffering from the lengthy drive, having been the only one to take the wheel that day, and so I waved the invitation off. Em also seemed a little apprehensive about wandering around without much of a set plan in motion, which was fair enough, knowing our luck someone would probably spot him and start a mob of sorts.
So whilst the three ‘big kids’ had headed off on an adventure of their own, Marshall and I had continued our walk along the beach before we’d finally headed back to the cottage, just to enjoy some time alone without someone or other sticking their two cents in.
By the time the other three had finally returned, arms shackful of crappy seaside gifts for everyone and the postman it seemed, Marshall had already started up dinner, wanting a break from all the processed foods we’d been eating as of late.
With that all plated up, we’d decided to gather around the tele and find a good film to watch whilst we ate instead of up at the table. Lottie had wanted the middle cushion of the settee, seeing as it was stationed right in front of the tv screen, whilst Em and I had long since claimed the two recliners just off to the left. Which had simply left Tadgh and Danny either side of Lotts, who either seemed to not notice the way both of the boys’ faces had drooped at the sudden realisation, or just didn’t care.
It was shaping up to be a long night.
…
Scratch that previous thought.
As soon as dinner had been cleared away, Tadgh decided to jog on upstairs and return with a deck of cards in tow. Danny grinned at the sight of them, already moving to slide into a chair at the dining table, tugging T down with him, whilst Lotts pulled her attention away from her phone.
“Game of Rummy anyone?”
“Rummy?” Lottie wondered aloud, cautiously perching on the chair opposite the guys with thinly veiled interest.
“Ye don’t know Rummy? Aye, Lotts, ye ain’t lived girl!” Tadgh beamed, cards already out of the pack and being shuffled in his deft hands before he could finish his sentence.
I rolled my eyes, already knowing what was sure to come. “Oi I want no gambling, alright? She ain’t playin’ with the likes of you two and losin’ out ‘cause she ain’t got a clue what’s going on.”
“Lia!” Lottie huffed, unhappy about the fact that she thought I believed she stood no chance against them.
“Nothing on you, bug. Knowing those two they’ll probably explain the rules all wrong and take you for all your worth.” I soothed, drying the last of the plates and shooting the remaining two a knowing look.
“Lia!” Came the same affronted sound, only from Danny this time around, “I would never take advantage of anyone like that!”
“Libby Pett.” Was the only reply I gave him, one which shut my little brother’s mouth all too quickly.
“Who’s Libby?” Lottie quizzed, forearms pressed to the table, very much enticed now.
“No one.”
“One of Dan’s old school mates, he right fancied the pants off her and so ended up takin’ her out to a house party one night.” I said, speaking over Danny as though he hadn’t even tried to deny anything, “He caught her snoggin’ his friend, Chris. Same Chris who’d been dating Libby for four weeks and who also knew nothing about Dan’s date. So the pair of ‘em ended up working it all out after and wanted to get their own back, decided to hold a little poker game.”
It was a game of strip poker and the girl ended up walking home in her knickers and a binbag but Lottie didn’t need to know all the details. It was harsh, yeah, but well deserved in my opinion, the little cow had tried to get off with not just one but two of my mates’ boyfriends and then had had the gall to claim she hadn’t known they weren't single.
“Oh Danny boy, din’t know we had such a wrongen on our hands!” Tadgh let out a sharp bark of a laugh, eyes bright as they watched my brother, nudging his side teasingly with an elbow.
“Yeah alright, alright.” Danny huffed, waving T off. “It was ages ago though, and Lotts is my sister!”
“As am I, don’t mean I’ve forgotten the time you got too big for your boots at Christmas and tried to cheat me into giving you a bottle of vodka when you were thirteen!”
Danny slid further against the back of his chair, eyes glancing towards the ceiling in indignation before scanning the room in hopes of a saviour, it was then that they found Marshall, smirking at us all by the sink. Dan figured he’d found it. “You know what it’s like at that age, don’t you mate! Bet you got away with worse, even!”
“Oi, don’t rope him into it!” I laughed, swatting Danny’s thigh with the teatowel I still held, “His secrets are his to keep.” I turned to Marshall with a wink then before I rounded the table to take the seat beside Lottie.
“What and mine are free to tell the public?”
Lotts scoffed loudly, “What public? It’s us, just be thankful we ain’t spilled about how long it took you to stop wettin’ the bed!”
“No!” Tadgh gasped at the same time Danny shot our sister a warning glare.
Em was wearing an all too amused smile when he dropped into the chair next to me, hand taking mine in his whilst the rest of the room seemed content to bicker between themselves.
“You good?” I asked him quietly, though my voice probably would have went unheard under the rest of the noise even if I had raised it.
The man merely squeezed my hand in his, before bringing it to his lips, “More than, baby.”
And God, if he didn’t give me butterflies.
–
BRadioOne @/RADIO1
Eminem performs new single 'Walk on Water' and iconic tracks including 'Stan' and 'Berzerk' in the studio. Click here to watch his performance and here for his interview with…
–
P!NK @/PINK
Need me out now! #REVIVAL #needme
–
“So, promo’s going well.”
It had been a really good couple days. Just incredibly nice to get away and escape for a short while in truth, and getting to watch my little family bond with Marshall was honestly the icing on the cake. I didn’t think I had ever been so happy.
Even now, as I watched Em mess around with Lottie as they reloaded the caravan and then him call out something to Danny that had both men grinning. I had never felt so whole.
“Is it? I’m glad.” I answered Mila, who had phoned just before we were due to set off. Honestly she’d caught me in the perfect moment. “I haven’t seen much of it whilst we’ve been here but I’m grateful it’s all going well for him. Have you heard anything from Paul then, or anybody else? I know the singles not long been released but the album isn’t even out yet and I’ve been a little worried it still wasn’t the right move having me on the–”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Oi, rude.” I shot back, then sighed. “It’s just…”
“It’s not just, anything. Okay? You wrote that song. It is you all over. It is a massive hit. And you deserve all the recognition that finds you.” Mila stated, in that same way that only she could. “Do you hear me?”
“Yeah, yeah I hear you.”
“Good because as soon as you’re back in London you’re headed straight to the studio, okay? I want you recording as soon as possible. Your album is what is important now.”
“So soon? I’ve still got to work on those last two songs, the chorus is off and the bridge on the last one isn’t sitting how I wan–”
“Elia? I love you dearly, but as your manager I do not give a single fuck. This album? It’s going to be your make or break, darling. Make or break. You’ve been coasting since your last EP. You charted, yes. But it’s more than just making the top 10, the top 50 even nowadays! You need to keep the listeners happy, build on the fanbase, and this new stuff we’ve been working on? It will do exactly that. I can already see it.” Mila told me, she was often no nonsense when it came to work but this was levels above the norm. “So, as much as we love Marshall and your new single, the next couple of weeks are all about you. Got me?”
I could see where she was coming from, of course I could. But I also wanted to be there for when Revival finally dropped, for Marshall and even Rosie, who I missed more than I would any limb at this point. It all felt so hurried and rushed.
But before I could voice any of these thoughts to Mila, the van’s horn was honking obnoxiously and Mila herself was already wrapping up our call.
“I have to get going, babe. I have three meetings all scheduled in the next hour alone. But I love you, drive safe. Text me when you. are. home. You hear? Studio is booked for this Sunday.”
Sunday, the day after Marshall leaves.
I opened my mouth to reply, sucking in a short breath, only for the line to then go dead.
Blinking, I let the phone fall away from my ear and looked down at where my thumbnail now toyed with the dark call ended screen.
Sunday.
One more night with Marshall. One last day.
It felt too much like Detroit now, like it was happening all over again. Only, this time… This time that one little word wasn’t just weighing heavily in my head now, but my heart too.
“Hey,” A whispered greeting caught me off guard and I jumped a tad in surprise before turning to look over to the front door, Em was leaning against its handle, not quite smiling but his expression content, “You ready?”
I swallowed thickly, emotions caught in the back of my throat. But I managed to nod and glue on a small smile when the man held out his hand for me to take. And take it I did, pausing only once to glance back at the small cottage we’d made our home for the last few days.
It was like being sucked back in all over again. Being thrown back into a version of that younger girl whose fire had been all but doused out.
I’d always been a fighter. You couldn’t afford not to be where I came from, how I was raised. And of course I had been scared, terrified, stressed. I was only human. But there had only ever truly been one person that had been able to rescind my ability to defend myself. That could revert me back to the little girl that I had once been.
“Nik? You ‘ere?”
“‘Course I’m here, where else would I be?” Nicola laughed in reply– my mother, laughed. All merry and bright. Eyes starry and stuck on the spot where she was now peering around the kitchen door from her seat at the table.
Cautiously I swallowed, heart caught high in my throat as I carefully picked my mug back up and attempted to drink it leisurely, as though I had no care and all the time in the world. Still, the tea I had brewed not all that long ago had since grown cold and my stare did not dither from the side of Nikki’s face.
If my mother felt my steady stare she didn’t think much of it, hardly even blinked before she was grinning once again. It was then that I knew he was there, in the room too.
“Char is just out the front, in’t she. Talkin’ to that mate of yers.”
His voice had aged in the time he’d been gone. Gruff was perhaps the only way to describe it, hollowed maybe.
A rustle had my ears ringing and my attention on high alert, my eyes flickered over to the intruder on their own accord. Like a gazelle would upon a lioness’ approach.
He’d come barring gifts.
Well, a four-pack of cider, a couple scratch cards and a carton of eggs.
He’d also yet to notice me. Grunting away from where he stood unloading his one bag.
“Cow followed us all the way back from the shops.” He rambled, “Reckon she wanted a word with ya or some shite. Told her to sling her hook enough times but you know Char, heart of gold that girl.”
Nikki had already gotten up to aid him with his one bag. Tucking the plastic carrier into a nearby drawer when he was done and sticking the cans in the fridge to chill. He was already bent over the opposing counter scratching away at one of the many cards he’d picked up.
“Who was it anyway? Ain’t that Chantelle, were it? She still owes me a score from bingo last week– she’s a shifty fucker.” Nikki scoffed, tutting at her own words. “Tried claimin’ her bleemin’ bank had frozen her accounts after someone snatched her cards again, I just reckon that husband of ‘ers is back to smackin’ her about.”
“Jez don’t just smack her ‘bout for the fun of it, Nik. She’s an uptight cunt, always has been. Her mam were the same way.”
Bile gnawed at my throat before it sank to the very pits of my stomach– finally, finally, I moved, well, turned really, towards the sink to place my still half-full mug into the basin.
The movement caught some attention.
“Je-sus.” Came the heavy Northern twang that always boomed, seemingly thicker now upon using that particular word. “Who’d have thought it! Look, Nik, we’ve got our very own little popstar knockin’ ‘bout our kitchen.”
I steeled myself, barring my teeth behind my closed-lip smile, and then pivoted on my heel to face the man.
“Jase.” I acknowledged, tone devoid of any emotion.
His smile grew to something akin to a Cheshire grin, eyes shining under the harsh glow of the kitchen lights. He both had and hadn’t changed from the monster I remembered. Still wore the same sleazy smile, short cropped hair, and bad Slazenger jeans. He’d lost weight, probably from being in the nick and whatever he’d been abusing since getting out, but he had always been tall.
My mates used to call him slenderman when they’d see him out and about, not just because he was tall though, not even because he was all that lean in truth either. But because he would watch. He’d always been a watcher. His eyes singled you out and rotted you from the inside, he got off on making you uncomfortable, on making your skin crawl.
I willed myself not to look away from that stare.
I wouldn’t satisfy his need to have me back where he’d had me pinned all those years ago.
“Awh, that all a bloke gets, is it? Ain’t seen ya since ye were a kid! Proper changed.” Jase spoke, a grimy smile plastered over his face even as he glanced me up and down before looking back at my mum to gesture towards me, “Right changed, in’t she?”
My mum merely snorted. “Still as up ‘erself though, ain’t you, sweet’eart?” She retorted in jest, her mouth upturned and strung to one side in her usual snide smirk. That was her being pleasant though, so I couldn’t complain. “Glad she still knows how to make a decent brew though! Figured you’d have some poor sod doin’ it all for ya now.”
Jase laughed, forever amused by her picking at me. That hadn’t changed.
“Ah, don’t be like that, Nik.” He toyed, always playing the court. “Our girl’s gone and made it big, should be ‘aving people at ‘er beck and call. If she can afford it, why not, hey?”
I stuck my tongue against the back of my front teeth and smiled, placating as always, “Why not.” I mimicked him.
“See!” He bellowed, all bravado. “I mean, God, how long’s it been since I last saw you, dolly?”
My stomach dropped at the nickname.
“Got to be, what? Nearin’ fifteen, sixteen years?” Jase continued, arms outstretched toward me. “Figured my face might be worth seein’ behind bars though! What, no time for visitin’ an old man like me?”
My insides knotted.
I forced words through the bile and out of my mouth, “Didn’t really give you a second thought to be honest, Jase.”
Liar, my mind screamed.
His stare lingered, eyes hardening for a second, then two, before they flickered with that same bout of jovial snide which lined his lips. “You wound me, dolly. I raised you for a good while, din’t I? You and yer brother.”
Scoffing, because I couldn’t not, I then shook my head around what should have been a bitter chuckle but what came out as something a little lighter, softer. Hold your cards close, El.
“Gettin’ pissed and shaggin’ my mum doesn't really equate to raising us.” I leant back on the counter behind me, pressing my clammy palms to its top. I tried to smile. “I doubt Danny remembers you hanging about much.”
Jase’s hand twitched, before he thought better of the motion. Tongue gliding over his front teeth as he turned his neck to glance back at my mum, who appeared bored by the entire conversation.
“Hearin’ this, Nik? You always said I was the best of the bunch when it’d come down to helpin’ yer kids. But don’t think our girl feels the same way.” He paused, eyes dragging back towards me, “I mean, what would Char say, hey? If she knew you thought so little of her old man?”
I gritted my teeth, thumbs digging into the edge of the countertop.
“It’s Lottie.”
A sharp bark of laughter. “She’s my kid, I’ll call her what I like. ‘Sides what it to you, eh? I named her.”
“You weren’t in an eight mile radius of the hospital, let alone in the same room when she was born!” I shot back at him, a disbelieving chuckle slipping from my mouth. “Danny named her! He chose it. After hearing about his teacher’s sodding cat!”
“No.” Jase denied, his head tilted now, grin sly and slick as though he knew all and everything. “You see that’s where you’re wrong, sweet’eart. Danny boy and I came up with Charlotte long before I ended up in the nick. Span that little sob story just so you wouldn’t throw a fuss, din’t we?”
He laughed, the sound demeaning, menacing, and it cut through the kitchen for a second before it softened just enough that no one would really think twice about it.
“‘Cause Charlotte, right, well it was my old girl’s name, weren’t it?”
No. I shook my head. It didn’t add up. Danny wouldn’t have lied. It made no sense. Charlie had been his teacher’s cat’s name, a sweet tabby which had been run over a couple of weeks before Mum had gone into labour. Her class had been so enamoured with the animal, his teacher having brought it in a few times over the course of their year together. Danny had been in bits about it– I remembered. The two of us had been sitting in the laundrette, cycling through the five pence pieces I’d found under the sofa, when he’d told me all about it. He had.
“You’ve always been a shit liar, Jase.” I spat, angry now. “Dan wouldn’t have spun a whole story. He was just a kid.”
“Ah, ah. Come on now, don’t doubt the little runt too much. He’d always been a good actor. I mean, he played at bein’ straight, din’t he? Even signed up to the army from what I hear…” The man paused, letting the baited silence linger before he smirked, stare flickering between both my mum and I. “Bet he loved that.”
I threw myself at him, lunging over the tiles beneath my feet so quickly that even the bastard didn’t see me coming. Just quick enough to send my fist flying towards his face.
He stumbled back, a choked yell as his nose cracked, before my mum was screaming. Swearing up a storm.
“What d’you do that for! Stupid cow! Wha–”
Jase sprung back, pushing my mum out of the way when she swanned in closer, faffing about in an attempt to help him.
His eyes– oh, his eyes.. Yeah, that was the look I remembered. It was the blurred vision I’d seen for months on end every time I’d tried to sleep. Every time I’d closed my own.
The smack came before I could even comprehend him moving, the next when the ringing stunned me enough to disarm me completely. He went again, but Mum made to intervene and I ducked, flailing over the slippy tiles as I tried to right myself and get to the kitchen door.
My handbag was still on the opposing counter though so I made to grab it, but it was then a hand seized my wrist before I could, the bag’s handle slipping just from my grasp.
I gasped at the hot white sting which shot up my right arm, sick swirling in my stomach as I fought against the hold the second the sting sharpened. I kicked backwards and he grunted as my foot caught him, but the action didn’t do much to assist me.
His other hand came up to close me in, cage me against him. I reeled as far back as I could before sending all of my weight back into him.
The gesture caught him off guard enough that I was able to slip free, the jolt having shook his balance. He was fast though, he came at me again, hands grappling at my shoulders as I finally caught the handle of my bag, I sent it sailing backwards, not paying mind to the sound which escaped him as I sprinted for the kitchen door.
I wrapped my body around the wooden frame, hip catching the door’s handle before I was barrelling down the hallway. It was then that those hands caught me at my hips again, tight and unyielding, and with just enough power to send me sprawling to the floor.
I hit the ground with a force hard enough to punch the air right out of me. The sound I made rang through my head, vision swimming before I was elbowing against the wooden panelling to get further away.
I wouldn’t let this be a repeat.
I wouldn’t allow him to hurt me anymore than he already had.
I wouldn’t be someone's punching bag, wouldn’t be scared of the threat of losing everything because I’d already lost it all. A long time ago.
My thoughts turned to Danny as Jase’s voice echoed through the hallway, he was clawing at my legs, reeling me back in as he staggered behind. I must’ve hit him harder than I thought. He was still laughing though, taunting.
I scrambled to get further, to get up.
My ankle caught the skirting board and I used the leverage it gave me to kick my body ahead, knees pounding into the wooden grooves before I stumbled upwards, catching myself against the entryway table.
I didn’t think, merely pulled the whole thing towards me and away from the wall, sending it sailing to the floor. Jase cursed as I jumped, brash and loud.
Somehow I managed to dodge the vase that came sailing past my head a second later, water spraying up the walls as the glass shattered by my feet. It was the one Danny had bought Mum upon moving in here, some place to home all the flowers he would send her when he was stationed away.
My fingers caught the door’s latch.
Then they slipped.
I tried again.
But this time I managed the task, grappling at the door to throw it open.
I tumbled down the front step, bag falling to the gravel driveway whilst another clatter pierced through the house I’d just escaped. He was still coming.
My knees grazed against the stones beneath me when I misjudged my next step, twisting my ankle but hardly sparing the pain a passing thought as I grabbed my bag and stumbled upwards again.
“You fuckin’ cow! You’ll pay for that, you hear? Get the hell back here!”
I startled at how close his voice sounded, throwing a chance glance over my shoulder, eyes widening at the anger he wore, at the blood gushing from his nose.
He came at me once more, only this time…
“Dad!”
All the breath I had left in my lungs left me at the sound of Lottie’s shout.
My head snapped back around, eyes wide as they took in the emotion that clung to my little sister’s face. Shock, horror– fear.
I choked, stumbling to put myself between her and her father. “No.” Was all I could get out, arms stretched out to keep him further away.
Jase scoffed, lip curled, and shook his head at the sight of me. “Oh, come off it! You fuckin’ started this– She! Started it.” He called out, tilting his head to get a better look at Lottie, who was still frozen behind me.
I followed his movement, blocking her from view. “You’ll never change, Jase.” I blew out, chest heaving as I fought not to break completely before him. To give in to the splinting pain in my side or in my knee. “People like you never do, and this? This is the last time you get to show it. So pack your shit, get the hell out of that house, or I swear. I swear, Jase, I will use every penny I’ve got to make sure you end up back inside.”
He stared back at me, watching, and for a long second I thought he might just cut his losses and turn tail, before a sharp bark of laughter escaped him.
“You’ve always been stuck up, but that house? It’s yer mam’s, if she wants me out of it she can try it. And do you really reckon that she’d pick the likes of you over me, aye? Might’ve been sixteen years but she ain’t changed that much neither.”
The grin he bore was bloody, yeah, but it was all pride. Certainty. He and I both knew that he wasn’t wrong.
“That house? It’s in my name.” I spat back at him, unwilling to shy away now. I knew what it would come down to, I’d always known. “And yeah, she probably would pick the likes of you–”
I swallowed back the fear that enveloped me at that admission, the hurt, as my eyes jumped over to where the woman now stood in the doorway, her own eyes bright and alarmed, even as she tried so hard to hide it.
“But,” I continued on, all bravado. “All I’d need is a restraining order and a court date, she might pick you over me, but you over this house? Over my money?” I scoffed, my own snide smile tickling at the corners of my mouth now, “We both know what she’s choosing.”
“You nasty–”
He lunged for me again. I stretched my arms out wide behind me, roping Lottie in, boxing her into the haphazard embrace I made as I went stumbling backwards to shield her.
He managed to get close enough to have me tripping before someone or other was tackling him to the floor. I heard the thud, but my hands were aimless in their attempt to grab at the car stationed on the driveway beside us, slipping against its side before I managed to find my footing.
I watched the scene before me play out almost in slow motion, a biggish lad, younger than the likes of both Jase and I combined, now had him pinned to the cobbled pathway, knee pressed to his lower back in an attempt to keep his struggling contained. I was half sure that he was one of the neighbours boys, she had a handful, I just couldn’t understand why he’d stepped in, but a look around showed me that our scene had kicked up into a right old show.
Mila would have a field day.
I startled, jumping in my skin at the touch that then came to my shoulder, breaking me from my stare and all of the onlookers. Gentle as it was. Glancing up, I immediately eased at the sight of Lottie, quickly looking her over to make sure that she wasn’t hurt.
“You alright? You okay? I heard myself ask, voice a little muffled by the ringing I only then noticed in my right ear. My hand trailed up and over her arm, eyes flickering between her own. There was a bright red stain across her shoulder though and instantly I shot up to get a better look, to see–
“I’m fine, I’m okay, Lia. It’s– it’s not mine.”
Confused, I kept blinking at her, then shook my head, hating how the ringing increased. God, did my head hurt.
“El.”
I looked back at her again, suddenly paralyzed by the tears which coated her blue eyes. “Let’s just,” Her voice croaked, “get you looked at, yeah?”
And now she was the one doing the parenting.
I wouldn’t have it, I shook my head in return, ignoring the pain before I looked back at the scene playing out behind us, hands still gripping at my sister’s shoulders.
Sirens came then, because of course they did. This was a nice neighbourhood, the type where people couldn’t sling beer bottles or get your leg up in an alleyway just for kicks. People around here cared, even if it was simply about the raucous or commotion.
I blew out a shaky breath, then motioned for Lottie to start moving. “We’ve gotta go. Come on.”
Lottie stumbled a tad in confusion, brows dipping low together before she shook her head, reaching out for me again, “No, no you need to talk to someone, get checked over.”
I felt sick to my stomach. What I needed was to get out of here. The demand to hide was the only thing keeping me upright. “No,” I said, then repeated it again when she just wouldn’t listen, “I need to go, we need to go, Lotts.”
“What? Lia, I don't understand.”
The lights were everywhere then, sirens blaring. The ringing increased tenfold, I fought not to upend the contents of my stomach on the pavement there and then. Simply kept walking, pushing Lottie down the driveway, towards my car. “Get in,” I found myself saying, even as I struggled to unlock the doors with the key I pulled from my handbag, only noting then how slick my hand was, how hard it was trembling. “Get in.” I repeated.
I managed to slide into the driver's seat and the only sense of calm, perhaps even clarity, came over me when the door behind me closed.
My forehead fell against the steering wheel, resting there as I attempted to catch my breath. It was almost silent, save for the muffled outside world.
“I–”
My breath stuttered at the suddenness of Lottie’s voice which ripped through the false calm, I forced myself back into my seat, forced myself to look at her.
She swallowed thickly at the sight of me and only then did I become faintly aware of the state I must have been in. My mouth tasted horrible, a thick coat of metal covering my tongue as I worked to find the right words.
“Are you okay?”
She stared at me blankly for a second, then two, before a sharp, breathy laugh escaped her. “Am I okay?”
I blinked.
“You! You’re– Jesus, Lia. You look like–” She stuttered and stumbled over herself, wide eyes flicking back and forth, back and forth. She shook her head at the pitiful sight I must have made. “I’m sorry.”
Time slowed. Yeah. But it wasn’t just that, it was as though I’d been violently thrown backwards, a spiral of a timeline swirling above and around me as I struggled to right myself, to understand. I reeled through every memory we’d ever shared together, every memory both before and after her, both before and after Danny, both before and after–
It was like time had slowed and stopped, but also managed to mitigate around me, zooming quick enough for me to only get a glimpse of one memory before it was darting onto the next.
Sorry.
“Why,” I swallowed around the emotion which overwhelmed me, the tears which stung my eyes, “Don’t do that, Lottie. You have nothing, nothing to be sorry for.”
I had reached out to cradle her at some point, dragged her into my arms, and it was only the feel of the centre console digging into my ribs that had me gasping for a breath that wouldn’t come.
Still, I wound back slowly, hands still grappling at her slight shoulders as I forced her to meet my eye. “I mean it, nothing at all. What happened– that was all me, that was him. That had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with you. Do you understand me?”
She stared back at me, utterly broken.
“Lottie,” I shook her. “Do you understand me?”
Lottie, with her lips pressed tightly together and her own hands digging into my sides, nodded once.
I wanted to press, to push but it was then we were both startled by a sudden knock at the driver’s side window, then an onslaught of bright yellow.
–
I’d been forced into the back of an ambulance at some point or other, apparently the concussion I’d been given was as obvious as the red and blue lights that had yet to stop flickering behind my eyelids.
I’d fought the idea, even when Lottie had pushed for it too, it was only when an officer had told me that I’d be done for reckless driving if I deemed myself worthy to head off on my own, that I allowed myself to be coerced into the obscenely bright vehicle.
I mean, I could understand the colour, sure. Supposed it helped in the dark, or when they were weaving between traffic to get to a scene quicker, but fuck if it wasn’t hard on your retinas– concussion or not.
Lottie had come along for the ride, rattling off every answer she could provide to the paramedic perched beside us. I was sat up on the bed, because like fuck was I lying down like some victim after what had happened, simply staring out the back window, avoiding every thought and action which had led me to this very moment.
By the time we had made it to the local hospital, I was seen to pretty quickly, mostly for the blood which seemed to have pretty much dried up by then.
It seemed that the paramedics had been correct in assuming my concussion, I had a headache that could not be eased by any medication and fluid trickling from my ear that had to be plugged up. Aside from that, I was only really a tad bit cut up. Mostly full of cuts and grazes, but with a bit of bruising up under my ribs that would eventually heal. Not soon enough though.
I was actually set to head home after a few hours had passed, though it was nearing the end of that time when two plods finally showed up. Lottie’s surprise at the sight of the officers was the only thing which had my protective walls shooting back up and quickly I demanded that she go find some food for herself. When that didn’t work, a cup of coffee for her injured big sister.
She’d rolled her eyes at the sorry scene I painted, pulling the wounded card as I put a hand to my ribs and winced. Though she eventually left after giving the officers one final assessing glance.
Appeared that only once they got my statement, that they could let me know that the act of violence had been a violation of Jase’s parole, sending him back inside for however long, something which stirred a strange mix of emotions in me, seeing as I would have to be the one to tell my sister where her father now was.
I sighed to myself as the two men left, allowing my head a bit of rest as my eyes fell shut. I didn’t get much time, mind. Perhaps only a few seconds before my phone was lighting up on the table beside me.
Groaning, I turned and ignored every instruction the doctor had given me (no screentime, no sharp movements, no complex conversions) as I reached for the phone and glanced at the caller.
Shit.
Taking a deep breath, I picked up the call and pressed the phone to my ear (the good one, the one that was not ringing).
“Marsh.” I breathed out, a tiny smile forming on my lips.
I heard a similar sound mimic me on the other end of the line, though his was heavy and sounded as though it had practically been punched out of him. “I got Paul booking flights now, I’ma be there by tonight.”
I blinked at the onslaught of information and then immediately regretted everything the second I shook my head, the man couldn’t even see me. “No, no. I’m fine, Em. Honestly, there’s no need, you’ve got–”
“Lottie called me.”
I was instantly silenced.
His breaths could be faintly heard, though it took him a moment to speak again. “You ain’t fine and if I could I’d–” He stopped, collected himself. “I need to be there, you hear me? I need to see you for myself.”
My eyes fell shut, I knew what he meant, understood that I would be the same way in his position, but he had commitments, he had promo, shows, Rosie.
“You can’t just drop everything, Marshall.”
He huffed out a laugh that wasn’t at all amused, “I could lose a leg and I’d still be gettin’ on a plane, Elia.”
“Em–”
“No, fuck off with that shit. I don’t care if you jus’ stubbed your toe, I don’t know what the fuck happened today but it sure ain’t happenin’ again. I’m–”
“Marshall.” I demanded, hating the way my voice cracked but venturing on, “I’m okay. I have a concussion, some minor cuts and bruises. But I’m okay. I just have to wait a while until they clear me, then I’ll be headed home.”
The line went quiet.
“Look,” I sighed, fiddling with the fraying edge of my blanket. “There's no point upending Rosie, no point in cancelling the stuff you’ve already got planned. It will ruin sales, it’ll fuck with the album charting. I’ll be fine tomorrow morning, just a bit stiff, but then again–”
“Go fuck yourself.”
I was cut off by the hysterical surprise which shot through me upon hearing him. I blinked, gaze now honed in on the opposite wall, no matter how blurred the edges of my vision still were. “Come again?”
“Go fuck youself if you think any of that bullshit is more important to me right now. My kid aside.” Marshall answered me, voice hard and unwilling to compromise, “Your sister calls me, sounding scared outta her mind, tellin’ me you’re in the hospital, that some shit’s gone down and she ain’t sure what to do, let alone who to call. And you think I’m good to jus’ sit here and wait ‘til you’re all better? Like I ain’t goin’ out of my mind? Like I ain’t sat here hating the fact that I weren’t there when you needed me most?”
He was right, I knew it, I’d admitted I’d be feeling the very same if the roles were reversed, but still. His words messed with my already fucked up brain. It made everything inside of me hurt.
It didn’t fucking make any sense.
I sighed, head pounding harder now than it ever had before, ear still fucking plugged up and nose somehow now bleeding. I shook my head, cursing away at the flood of pain which radiated through my skull. “Whatever, Em. I can’t– I just can’t do this right now.”
Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.
| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2
Notes: Another update?? Gasp.
TW: This update mentions a plethora of things, ranging from comments on someone's appearance, the past use and abuse of drugs and alcohol, damaging comments to a particular character, struggles with coping mechanisms and change, as well as difficult relationships with parental figures.
Masterlist
Saying goodbye was never easy, which was why I often got caught up in things the second I had to leave or rather, in this case, when someone else was doing all the leaving.
It had helped that Mila had scheduled some studio time– almost as if she knew me too well! But all the odd gaps that occurred when I wasn’t rushed off my feet or preoccupied had me spiralling a tad.
Lottie had stuck around for that first week after Em’s departure, but then her mate had scored some tickets to a play in the westend, which had then turned into an overnighter, her staying at this friend’s place and then again for another when a house party had come up. She had been back and forth since then, swanning in and out of the house but mostly keeping me updated via text.
Our mother was due back any day now too, so that was something else I had to talk to Lotts about. Seeing as she’d been staying with the woman whilst I had been in the States– sorry, staying with them. Danny was set to see her as well, although he’d let me know beforehand when Mum had texted him to tell him her arrival time, obviously wanting a lift.
He and Tadgh were also set to leave soon, due at their next base. Though each had a standing invitation to Christmas, wherever it may be. Fingers crossed. So that basically meant that I was due to be all on my lonesome soon enough. Well, if you didn’t count the crew or the band at the studio, as well as the odd call from Marshall and Z the second the man got a chance to.
He’d been horrendously busy since he’d left London. Having jetted off to LA before the release and then New York on his way back to Detroit. He hadn’t complained, but I knew all the flying had gotten to him, the man was the biggest homebody I’d ever known.
Still, he’d managed to make time for me in between all of it. Texting before interviews, calling at odd hours. More often than not he caught me in the booth, and although he was persistent in his efforts to get me to reveal some of what I was working on, I was sticking to my guns and the usual ritual of not showing anybody anything until it was all complete.
As my boyfriend, Marshall wasn’t the biggest fan of this, but as an artist he could understand.
I knew that all the media buzz had started up again too since the remaining singles to Em’s album had been announced and the album release was fast approaching. I got the odd screenshot or link from Lottie here and there, most articles were about Marshall getting papped doing the oddest things or wearing his usual stern expression, but once or twice there had been an interview.
They’d asked after our single a handful of times but most of the questioning always leaned towards the fans having wondered why he hadn’t had another bigger name on the track, so I’d tried to stop reading them.
I’d been cooped up in the studio for three days now, as in nonstop. Hadn’t gone home, hadn’t showered, hadn’t even really slept all that much. I hadn’t left the building at all, in short.
A tad bit disgusting, yes. But I was finally– finally – able to produce what I’d long been hoping for with the music I was making. That, and I was hiding from the world a tad bit. As Mila had sussed out almost immediately. Though the woman had yet to complain, seeing as the work she’d been pestering me for was finally getting done.
It wasn’t like I was struggling with anything massive, or that the new album wouldn’t live up to expectations if I took a break. It was just the house, the one I’d been living in for years now, suddenly felt far too big and far too quiet.
Dan and T were still in and out, sure. But never when I had stopped by and always sound asleep when I’d managed to walk through the front door.
We were like passing ships in the night.
I did also, sort of suppose– could admit, even! – that a large part of the avoidance issue was down to the shape Marshall had carved out there and then abandoned.
No, okay so not abandoned. Well, yes, but also no! Because the man’s whole life was in Detroit and his being in my house for less than a week was hardly supposed to make his sudden absence in it all that noticeable.
It did though. And I couldn’t deny that, at least not to myself.
“Alright! From the top?”
I startled at the sudden voice that echoed through the booth around me and struggled not to show how much so before I was smiling back at the sound producer in agreement. I nodded, taking a shallow breath and willing myself not to linger much longer on things that were out of my control.
It would work out, or it wouldn’t.
–
Messages - 09:17 EST
The Martian
You free to call?
I’d missed his message by a good couple hours. Enough that I knew he’d more than likely be heading to sleep now. So I replied, rubbing my own tired eyes as I fought to stay awake and hoped to whatever deity that no smudged pen ink ended up on my face.
Messages - 04:03 GMT
To: The Martian
Sorry been working all day:(!!
Phone died too at some point or other
Everything okay?
I’d gotten to work again shortly after sending it though, as well as checking in with Lottie. Our mum had been due back that morning or had it been last night? I wasn’t quite so certain now. But the kid had yet to tell me of her plans, so with both messages sent I’d gone back to work once more, forcing myself not to think about it any longer than I had to.
–
Messages - 10:11 EST
The Martian
Almost a day late baby
U sleepin OK?
Can call at some point in the next hour, Z got news
…
Messages - 22:34 GMT
To: The Martian
IM SO SORRY
I didn’t realise you had even texted, or the time for that matter
I’m free now, can we Facetime??
22:56 GMT
Marsh?
You there?
00:21 GMT
I’ve set an alarm
Hope to catch you guys before Z leaves for school
…
Messages - 07:03 EST
The Martian
Leave in 30
U awake still?
07:18 EST
?
07:26 EST
Guess not
Maybe later then
Ain’t that important
…
Messages - 15:38 GMT
To: The Martian
God
I can’t apologise enough Marshall
Everything has been so up and down lately
My alarm went off but I slept right through it
I am so so sorry.
Did you tell Rosie I was calling??
…
Messages - 20:41 GMT
To: The Martian
Is Z out of school yet?
I was hoping to catch you both
I feel so horrible
Sorry again, honestly I am
20:45 GMT
Em?
Pick-up line longer than usual today?
20:52 GMT
I’m going to call anyway
If I miss you it’s fine!
I’ll try again later
My chest ached something raw, in truth, and the sensation only worsened with how hard my heart was now beating, the ringing of the phone almost feeling as though it was putting my old ticker through its paces.
The call rang through, then the aftertone followed.
I dug my front teeth into my lower lip and instantly hit redial.
– Ring– Ring– Ring–
My teeth started to chatter along to the robotic melody, cold after finally having forced myself beyond the confines of the studio to make a run for my car which hadn’t moved from its one spot all week.
“‘Lo?”
My breath hiccupped and I came to a stuttered standstill in the middle of the car park at the very familiar sound. I forced the rest of the breath out a split second later and couldn’t contain the smile that worked its way over my face.
“Marsh.” I all but sighed into the receiver, an immense feeling of relief hitting me square in the chest, “God, I am– I’m just so sorry. There’s– I feel so bad. So incredibly bad. I can’t begin to– Can’t even imagine–”
My constant ramble was quickly muted by his placitations, “Elia. El, babe–”
I paused immediately. Then blew out another heavy breath, “Sorry.”
The guilt was smothering me now, like a too large blanket I couldn’t escape from.
“You gone run out of steam, woman. Talkin’ like that and runnin’ yourself into the damn ground.” Marshall replied, before he then let go of a small huff of his own, one which sounded more sad than irritated. I struggled to maintain my silence. “I mean, I get missin’ a couple calls, texts too. But– What’s been goin’ on with you? Mila said–”
I promptly cut him off at that. “You spoke to Mila? What, why?”
A scoff.
“What d’you mean why? I was worried, idiot. That’s fuckin’ why. You ain’t been answerin’ none of my messages or calls for days, an’ when you do reply it's only to apologise. I don’t want a sorry, I want you to answer the fuckin’ phone or at the very least look after yourself…
“Listen, I get workin’ yourself hard. Workin’ ‘cause it’s all you can really do. ‘Cause you feel like you’re finally gettin’ somewhere. But then I got Mila in my ear tellin’ me you ain’t left the studio in what, a week? Then your brother askin’ if I’d heard from you since leavin’. Your sister even–”
“Lottie’s been in contact?”
I blinked at the very notion, suddenly hyperaware of how overwhelmed I now felt. Suddenly too conscious of the soft patter of rain that had started up around me.
I glanced up, feeling the damp drops that melted through my long-sleeve tee. Then forced my feet to move, for my hand to unlock my car door. Pressing the phone further to my ear as I went through the motions of it all.
“Baby. We’re all worried ‘bout you. Your sister too. Especially her, even. Kid’s been callin’ Z most days too. I thought she was at the house? Thought you were there too.” Marshall answered me, his voice not quite placating but tired. Stressed. “I thought I was meant to be the busy one lately. But it seems like no one can tie you down right now.”
“I–” I started, rubbing at my right eye. His voice felt so much louder in the quiet of my car. Had the close of the door muted the outside world or just put a megaphone to his emotions? “I didn’t think to– Everything’s just been, a lot.” I added, swallowing heavily before repeating again, “I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t answer me for a beat too long, a beat in which I had to will myself not to fucking cry– I guessed that the lack of sleep was finally catching up to me.
“I ain’t mad. Just, I only wanted to make sure you were good.” He finally said, another silent beat followed before he continued on, “I just miss you.”
I forced back the lump in my throat, spluttering as I did and trying not to let him catch on, “Me too. God, do I, Em. It’s all such a mess.”
“Then lemme help clean it up. You hear?” Marshall told me, I wanted him nearer though, closer than just a phone call.
I buried the phone in my shoulder, then allowed myself to sniff, letting my head fall back against the chair rest before I was hit by the sudden relisation. “God, Z! Is she there, is she okay?”
Marshall cleared his throat, as though he knew what I was trying to cover up my tears. “I’m pickin’ the monster up now. She– she’s been missin’ you. It’s been a lot, ‘specially since I got home.”
“I’m so sorry, Marshall.”
A tear fell at that.
I’d– How could I have just gotten so swept up in it all?
I didn’t think I could feel any more horrible.
“I am. I’m so, so sorry, Marsh.”
He exhaled, and it was then that I could hear the muffled sound of the car's engine on the other side. He was driving. “Ain’t gotta say sorry, baby. Jus’ needed you to be okay.” He took another breath, “Are you?”
I sniffed, the sound almost echoing, “Am I what?”
“Okay.”
My smile was wobbly but prominent and I found myself nodding in turn, even though he couldn't actually see me, even though I wasn’t entirely sure.
“I’m okay.”
A soft laugh that was half a scoff erupted at my fib, “You ain’t that good a liar.”
I chuckled too, then wiped under my nose. “I just, I miss you is all.”
“Where’s the self-sufficient woman I met, aye? All independent and in need of nobody?”
Another quiet laugh escaped me, “I never said that.”
He hummed, disbelieving, and I could just picture his smile. “Didn’t have to. Had you sussed out from day one, nothin’ but trouble.”
My eyes stung with unshed tears and my voice was definitely wet but I answered him all the same, “And you ain’t? If anything, Marshall, you’re just as bad, if not worse.”
His chuckle warmed my heart.
“Can’t deny that.” He agreed, then paused for a moment. “Will you switch to the camera? Wanna see you.”
I wiped at my nose and then my eyes, denying him even though I knew I would eventually cave. “I must look a state, Marsh. Like actually. I haven’t even looked in a mirror today!” My one brief glance in the rearview sat above my head had me wincing and wanting to hide. “Yeah. God, I look foul.”
“There she goes again, people. Lyin’.” Marshall tutted, before his voice softened, “I don’t care, baby. Just wanna see you.”
I sighed, then sniffed again, wiping at my red eyes before I then attempted to fix my hair. When I figured I couldn’t look much better, only a whole lot worse, I hesitated over the camera button before huffing unhappily and all but stamping down on the screen.
The image flickered for a moment, stuttering between the black caller screen to a pixelated image of Em before it evened out. He looked as he always did, wearing a black beanie and hoodie to match, the only difference was there was a sincere now paired with it.
“Baby.”
I didn’t know how to take the tone in which he’d used. My head turned towards the car window, to its many raindrops, before I turned back to him with an embarrassed sort of smile, laughing off my sorry state. “Told you, I look a right mess.”
“Stop with that.” Em answered me gently, then changed the subject completely, “Where you at?”
“Uh,” I struggled to think for a second, as though I’d been transported through dimensions and not just a simple array of emotions. “The studio still. Well, the car park. I'm in my car.”
You made a right mess of that.
“You headed home?”
I blinked at his question, had I been headed home? I’d only stepped out to make the call. Then I’d decided on my car after having felt the bitter cold.
“I, uh. Yeah. ‘Spose so.”
It made sense now that the idea was there, I wasn’t in much of a mood to do anything after seeing Em, but also because my voice felt shot to shit, probably from all the tears and the snot… as well as the way I’d been running on empty fumes for days.
“You good to drive?” He asked me, then called my name when I only blinked back at him.
I swallowed, then nodded. Nodding once again, with more decisiveness. “Yeah, yes. I’ll be okay. Just–” I blew out a faint chuckle, “In dire need of some real sleep and a shower, I think.”
He dipped his head too before something beyond the camera caught his attention, I watched him shift into gear from where he’d propped me up by the steering wheel.
“You in the pick-up line?” I wondered, even though I was pretty sure that he was.
He hummed in affirmation, eyes scanning the windshield before they flicked back to me. “You mind stickin’ round to see the kid, or you want me to call again later?”
“I wanna see her.” I replied almost overtop of him, barely letting him finish his sentence. “That’s if you don’t reckon I’ll scare her off?”
Marshall rolled his eyes at me, as though I was being incredibly dramatic, “You look a little tired, baby. That’s all. Ain’t like you got snakes for hair or fangs.”
“Fangs?”
He shrugged, hand now on the wheel as the car veered to a subtle left. “She ain’t into vampires.”
“So a big no to Twilight?"
“Always a no to that.”
I laughed to myself, already feeling the weight which had been resting over my chest the last week or so begin to shift. It was then that Em interrupted the quiet that had settled, car door rattling.
“Incoming.”
“Dad! You won’t believe what hap– LIA!” Rosie’s ramble came to a gasped shock of surprise before she was leaping over her father to grab at the phone, a honk sounded behind them and all I caught was Em’s hand moving before I got a screen full of Rosie. “Lia, you won’t guess what happened today! I have so much to tell you!”
“Seatbelt, Z.” Em reminded the already babbling girl.
To her credit, Rosie might not have answered his demand but she did as told, still talking a mile a minute about everything I had missed since the last time we’d spoken as she grappled with her belt without a glance.
She went through every possible thing before finally telling me all about her big news.
“Shut up! The LEAD?” My surprise was palpable but so was the pride that was even more than evident in my smile, “The lead!! Oh my God, Z. That’s so beyond brilliant! I’m so proud of you, lovely.”
Her cheeks turned a rosy hue at the praise but she beamed so brightly in response, nodding excitedly whilst Marshall continued to drive, probably smiling away too, though his face was just out of frame.
“Thanks! I was so excited to tell you.” Rosie grinned back at me, all but wiggling in her seat. “You’ll come, won’t you? To see me?”
My mouth dropped open as my head flew through a billion replies and ideas and ways that would simply allow me to be there. Then I let my mouth fall closed around another smile, nose still red and eyes still watery. “Lead in your Christmas play? How could I miss it, Z?”
The reaction I got was worth all the hassle that was sure to come, but there wasn’t a universe in which I wouldn’t at least try to make this play. I would be there, come hell or high water.
–
A CONVERSATION WITH EMINEM: The rapper on his new album, the critics, and life.
– I was only able to listen to the new album once before talking to..
EMINEM’S REVIVAL, a track by track guide.
OPENDISCUSSION | We need to discuss the sheer genius of Eminem’s newest album…
– Ladies and Gents, the day is now upon us. It’s been just a little over..
Hate him or Love him, an in-depth look into rapper Eminem’s ninth studio album >>>
–
I knew it would’ve happened eventually.
That things would finally… revert.
That they would snap back and it would all just be like I’d left it all those weeks ago. Those months. Before I’d boarded that plane, before I’d gotten that call, before Lottie had posted that video.
Danny had gone now, swept up in friends, Tadgh, and the likes of our mother, before he had received a call prompting his earlier departure. T had gone with him, never one without the other, those two. Both of them headed out to yet another base.
Meaning that the house was now well and truly empty.
I’d seen Lottie– well, I’d spoken to her. A thirty-two second phone call was the highlight of our short-lived conversations the last couple days though. She’d been at her mate’s, then she’d been round Mum’s.
I didn’t know what to make of it, in truth.
My thoughts turned to that earlier conversation we’d had in my kitchen, the day after our massive blowup argument. They had left her, her mum and the man who dubbed himself her father. To go on a sodding holiday– even with him being tagged. Bloody tagged!
I mean, how and why my mum thought it was a good idea to let the idiot back in, let alone keep him sniffing round, was well and truly bewildering to me.
But then again, she’d never been good at picking men. Mine and Danny’s own father had been proof enough of that. As well as the many other boyfriends and bender stand-ins that had come and gone throughout the years.
I loved her. Or at least some part of me did. Even though she’d long since held the role of my mother.
She was a woman. She was human. Yes, but at her core she had always been selfish.
Which was why not much of what she did surprised me anymore.
Which was also why I was now sitting in my car outside her front door. Outside of the house that I had brought for her, as a way to keep our family together, to keep us tied. Her and I.
So it had to count for something, I figured. Not the house. Me, I meant. I had to mean something to her. A financial resource, yeah, a carer to her children, sure. But I was also her first baby. Her eldest. Her daughter. If that didn’t stand for much, then I figured at least she couldn’t throw my being here back in my face. Because I wasn't only here for her, I was actually here for Lottie. Back here in this place for the one person who could well and truly bring me to my knees.
God, I really had to fucking man up. My mind was a sodding war zone at the moment, everything felt like too much and not enough all at the same time.
What I really needed to do was get out of my car.
Just get out and walk up to the door.
It should've been as easy as breathing, knocking on your mum’s door. In my case it was anything but.
I heaved out a sigh, almost tortured. Then I grabbed my handbag and pushed the car door open as quickly as I could, figuring that way I couldn’t think anymore on it. Couldn’t pussy out.
But hell was I wrong. The trek up the driveway was enough time to have me counting each stone slab I stepped on in an attempt to dampen my thoughts. One, two, three. That one was a tad bit darker than the one before…
Her front door was still the same colour it had always been. A deep red. Only now the paint had darkened some around the edges and years of use (and misuse) had begun to show. The house’s door number was loose, the brass knocker rusting, and there was the imprint of a boot in the bottom right corner.
My eyes stuck on it before they flew back up in surprise, the door having opened without me needing to knock.
“Wondered if you’d ever work up the courage. Saw you pull up in that fancy car of yours ‘bout ten minutes ago.”
My mouth soured and it took me a good second to pull it up into something which resembled a semi-strained smile. “Good to see you too, Mum.”
She sighed, put-upon, then rocked back a step, widening her eyes before flamboyantly waving a hand out to welcome me inside, “You comin’ in or waitin’ for the red carpet to be rolled out?”
I bit back all the retorts that worked their way onto my tongue, sizzlingly there as I took a step into the lion’s den.
The house smelled vaguely of cigarette smoke, as it always tended to, as well as something artificial, as though someone had sprayed an air freshener not too long ago.
I only glanced back at my mum when I’d taken about three steps into the hallway, eyes narrowing when I saw the woman poke her head round the door to have a quick scout round outside.
She stepped back in and let the thing slam shut a second later though, and I forced myself not to react to the noise.
Nicola– Nikki– Dean was not your typical mother. Well, she was if you didn’t look too hard. She’d come a long way from the person she’d worked herself into after Lottie had been born. Since I’d finally managed to score a big gig and bribe her into rehab.
Back then, she’d been far too skinny. Bone thin but with a prominent gut, mostly from the constant alcohol and abuse of medications, but still oddly shaped. She hadn’t cared then, in her state she didn’t care for much other than sex or getting high. But when she’d started to cut back it had hit her harder.
Now, she carried more weight, years of better eating to coincide with the cider she still tended to drink, but it suited her better. Filled out her once hollow cheeks and plumped her skin.
Her hair was lighter now, longer too. Dyed and tucked up into the messy bun sat atop her head. She wasn’t wearing makeup, never really liked to unless she was going out out. But she had on a nice top as well as a clean pair of trousers, an outfit that she’d paired with a set of stained slippers.
She didn’t look too bad, but it was a vast difference to the last time I’d seen her about seven months ago. Even if it had been in passing.
Then she’d been really trying. For Lottie she’d claimed.
Had her hair always done nice, a little bit of lippy, and had even splurged a bit to get her teeth redone.
When she turned away from the door to usher me further inside, I noted the dark spot now staining her incisor. I eyed her a second too long to her liking because she was then scoffing and barging past me.
I tried not to cut my tongue on my back teeth, what with how hard I was grinding them. Then steeled myself and took a deep breath, following after her.
“What you doin’ here anyway? Last I ‘eard you was in America.”
She had headed straight for the kitchen and took a perch on a barstool there, “Kettles where you left it, your majesty.”
I didn’t rise to her taunts, merely put my bag down and moved to fill the kettle. I grabbed two clean mugs off the draining board and pulled the milk from the fridge whilst it started to boil, then just settled against the counter, looking over to her.
“Been back a while. Thought Lotts would’ve mentioned it.” I answered, tone not as scathing as it should have been.
She simply hummed, lip curled ever so as she pretended to think on it. “Ain’t seen much of that girl lately, been up to all sorts I ‘spose. Guess that’s just what they do at that age.”
She’s fifteen, I wanted to scream. But held my breath instead. Counting to ten before I eventually replied, “She mentioned you went to Spain.”
My mum didn't take the bait to the trap I’d set, instead sat up straighter at the reminder, suddenly all smiles. “Oh yeah, was proper lovely! One of them all inclusive sorts, you know the ones.”
I hummed in affirmation, turning my back to her to keep her from seeing the sudden twitch of my eye when the kettle finally whistled. “Have a good time then.” I asked, though it hadn’t been much of a question.
“Brilliant.” She beamed, taking the mug I then handed to her easily enough. “You never did answer my question though, why you back down this way, ay? Them big producers finally see sense, did they?”
Her laugh had always been the same, a sharp bark of ‘ha!’ It had me clenching my hand harder around the handle of my own mug.
“No, Mum. Just had work here, is all.”
“Yeah well, better for it. Leavin’ Lottie here is all well and good for a short while.” She mentioned, slurping away, “But she’s been gettin’ under my feet as of late. Ain’t good for anyone that.”
“Thought you hadn't seen much of her?” I prompted, calling her out on her previous claim, which only earned me a snide look.
“Last couple of days, I meant. And anyway, who are you, the Queen of Sheba?” My mum scoffed, rolling her eyes as she tended to often do, “Think you know everythin’ do you, Lady Muck?”
“It’s not like that, Mum.” I said, sighing to myself.
“No? Wha’s it like then? ‘Cause I thought you were all for havin’ the little cow, but seems it’s only when it pleases ya.”
I stared at her, caught between fury and utter disbelief. Though I didn't know why I was even shocked.
You’re meant to be her mother! I wanted to shout and bellow. You’re supposed to be the one to look after her, not me!
But I said nothing of the sort.
“She’s had school. I can’t take her wherever. You’ll get in trouble otherwise.”
I thought that insight (threat) might make her see some sense, but alas…
“Oh, like you cared last year when I had the courts jumpin’ down my throat!” She shot back, another short-lived laugh following her words. “Kid didn’t care ‘bout school then, did she? So what’s it matter now, ay? Don’t need school, does she anyway. Not really. I mean look at me, hey? Look at you. Both of us left and we made somethin’ of ourselves, din’ we?”
My eye did twitch then, and I could feel the blood rushing to my ears too.
I made it, Mum! You just fucking got lucky! You just barely managed to jump on the bandwagon! And if it hadn’t been for Lottie and Danny then I’d have gladly left you there in that horrible, little flat to rot!
Again, I said none of it.
“She needs school. She’s good at it, too. You know she was only struggling ‘cause of the bullying.” I tried, although it was hard to have any sort of conversation with Nicola Dean. Always had been.
“She’s as thick as a plank!” My mother laughed at her daughter's expense, as though we were both in on the joke. “Ain’t nowt wrong with that though, I weren’t all that brainy in school neither. Most of what I did have all went to your brother as well. Always been smart, that lad. Army made a proper man out of him.”
Oh the things I would love to say…
“Yeah, but Mum–”
“No, honestly if she ain’t up for school no more then you can just sort somethin’, can’t ya? Buy ‘em off. Or whatever. What that Laura Atkins did with her Jamie, din’t she? Or least that’s what she claims.”
“Mum, Lottie likes school now. She’s got mates there.”
“Oh, you can make mates anywhere!” My mum waved me off, before taking another slurp of tea. “Lotts has always been dramatic, ain’t she. Jus’ wired that way.”
I took a deep breath and fought not to open my mouth.
“I mean, she likes that make-up stuff, don’t she?” The woman continued on prattling away, “Or whatever else. She’d be fine. If not she’s a pretty girl, could easily find a fella to put up with her. Have a couple sprogs and tie him down. Won’t have to work a day in her life that way.”
I didn’t know whether to scoff at how little she thought of Lottie, or cry at the thought of her truly believing that all that wonderful girl could amount to was becoming some idiot’s wife or worse yet, a bit on the side.
Lottie was everything but what Nikki was describing her as. She was bright, and loving, and kind. She was smart too, so much smarter than the women who had had a hand in raising her too. She could become and do it all. She would.
But it was just as I was about to finally answer her and her insipid thoughts that the front door opened, its rattle ringing out through the rest of the house.
My mum blinked and looked over towards the hallway, surprised.
“Nik?” A male voice called out, brutish and heavy. “You ‘ere?”
Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.
| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2
Notes: Hello, hello, hellooooo
First off, Marshall's Revival album will be released in 2014, a year after MM2 instead of 2017. Just to clear that up? Lots going on here, a long one too! Hopefully you enjoy it:) Back with Em and El<3
Marshall Mathers @/Eminem
Oct 15, 2014
#REVIVAL coming soon.
Paul Rosenberg @/rosenberg
Oct 16, 2014
Collabs incoming..
#REVIVAL
US NEWS @/usnews
Oct 16, 2014
A new album from @/Eminem so soon? It’s only been a year since his last release but the rapper appears to be on a roll, or at least he would like to make it seem so. The upcoming record will be his 9th studio album, but all the hints are pointing towards it just being filled with mostly collaborations.. Will this be another hit, or will it inevitably crash and burn? #REVIVAL #Eminem
The days had started to blur. The album, Em’s album, was now in the last stages of being made. He’d changed everything from the tempo on track 6 to the entire things release date (the latter having occurred three times now, Paul hated him).
I, on the other hand, had been somewhat spiralling in between all of the calls I’d been receiving, the pair of us losing sleep to answer one another either way too early or far too late. It was a real nightmare, I could admit that, but nothing compared to the short fix I got from hearing or seeing him.
Since his admission, you know, the one where he’d told me he regretted not getting on that flight with me? That one…
Well, neither one of us had brought it up since.
I’d been in London for just under two weeks, missing Marshall’s birthday as well as the album's announcement, which in itself had been hard. But he himself had also been back and forth between LA and Detroit a lot, even stopping in at New York whenever shit called for it.
I know Z had been staying with her mum for a while– our calls had referred to sporadic texts which often came in during the early hours of the morning for me, seeing as it was typically night time for her. Something I’d been made to swear my secrecy to after I’d called her out on it.
Lotts was also in a similar boat. She had stayed that first night I’d returned from the States, far too amped up to leave the party with Danny and Tadgh early. But she had been back and forth between mine and mum’s since. Another thing I was trying desperately not to think about, nor delve too deeply into.
Dan and Tadgh were a handful too. On their own they were something of a relief, both had a real affinity for drawing all of my attention. But together? Let’s just say, if the British army ever did fall, they’d only need a two man team to extract the lot of them. They were a tornado. Truly, a force to be reckoned with. One which seemed to never stop, whether it was three am or two in the afternoon.
The pair still had another two weeks until they were due to head back. Croatia or Canada, I wasn’t sure this time. But they were both looking forward to it, as were some of the fellas they’d taken to calling at all times of the day, or even inviting round.
I didn’t much mind the chaos that ensued though, or rather I couldn’t bring myself to. I had a couple of rogue interviews that Mila had scored during this ‘downtime’ I was having, which often turned away from my music, seeing as I was still currently working on the next album, and onto my dating life— something I’d since banned from being brought up.
But I’d also been invited to a couple award shows and parties, only having attended one after being pushed into it by Tadgh, who’d obviously tagged along as my plus one. That would forever be a night I would never remember, far too fucking sloshed to have recalled getting past the front doors let alone the cab ride home.
Still, I was writing again.
Really writing. Which I supposed was something only other writers could truly relate to. But it simply meant that the words I was using finally had substance, fucking emotion behind them. It all just felt real.
Don’t get me wrong, nothing flowed from me, neither did it come easily. I worked continuously, clawed to find the correct chord or right rhyme. But it was the only other thing that kept my mind occupied, consuming what chunks of time I had left of my days.
Even so, Mila and Travis, and whoever the fuck else, were all on the same train it appeared, seeing as they all thought it best for me to release the inevitable album the month after Em’s. Only Mila had heard bits and pieces of the track Marshall and I had collaborated on, but apparently that had been enough for her to reckon that the single alone would skyrocket my own sales.
I was less than optimistic, even having mentioned it to Marshall on a late night call whilst wrapped up in bed. He’d listened, hummed even, but had eventually told me that he agreed with what Mila was onto. That the song in itself was one of few that he was wholeheartedly proud of.
So I’d ended up telling the lot of them that I would think on it.
Still, I’d been roped into marketing for my upcoming album that wasn’t even an album yet, posting all sorts, from guitar pictures on Instagram to sappy lyrics on Twitter. Which was actually why my teaser for the single with Em went a little under the radar, a clue to the bigger picture which had only been connected when Marshall released a promo of his own.
L @/ELIA
Oct 19, 2014
If it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water
Marshall Mathers @/Eminem
Oct 23, 2014
“Walk on Water”
Take as needed.
(Photo of prescription)
Four days and it was like most of the fans knew. I’d received everything from love and excitement, to the obvious hate, claims that Marshall was using me as much as I was him. Which forced me into hibernating from the internet as well as the world again, at least until late one Saturday night when there had been a buzz at my front gate.
Tadgh had finally managed to rope Dan into going out to the pictures with him, the new Annabelle film was finally on screens and he’d been wanting to see it since he spotted it on the side of the number 7 bus.
Danny on the other hand, well, he’d never been much into horror, or anything remotely scary, in truth. Bloke had been shit-scared of them since he were a kid, when he’d snuck into the living room one night after I’d long since put him to bed. It was his own fault really, I’d been watching the tele whilst clearing up after mum and her mates, and the BBC had just so happened to have been playing The Shining at the time.
Danny hadn’t been able to stomach much after it, had to sleep with the light on for weeks, even struggled to watch Jack Nicholson in that one Adam Sandler film when it had come out years later. So it was safe to say that he had to hold a lot of love for Tadgh to even consider going to view it.
“Alright, I’m coming, I’m coming.” I huffed only to myself, seeing as no one else was in tonight, before I picked up the phone by the centre console. I sighed softly but furrowed my brow as I went to answer whoever it was that was buzzing, “Mate, it’s a quarter to nine at night. Who are you and what do you want? If you’re lost or your car’s broken down then there’s a petrol station about a half a mile down the road, or you could try someone else, see if they’re as thick as you think I look.”
There was a long pause, just the static humming back at me, before it was broken by a disbelieving laugh. My frown only deepened, unsure on whether or not I was hearing things or not. If it just was my imagination making shit up.
My mouth dropped open though, probably to say something or other in reply, but the person on the receiving end beat me to it, “Glad you’re prepared for if Scream ever calls, baby. But it’s fuckin’ raining out here. Come let me in.”
I was stuck staring at the phone I now held limply in my hand for a long moment before I heard his muffled voice once more, drawing me back to the present. I hurried to answer him, fumbling with the button which actually opened the front gate, “What the fuck?”
But I didn’t stand around long enough to listen for an answer, only catching the arse-end of another conversation and the faint murmurings about London’s famous weather before I was gone. Because in a split second I was wrenching open the front door and scrambling out onto the stone covered drive, coming to a complete halt when I finally caught sight of the man standing past the property line.
The gates were still opening, they always had been excruciatingly slow– were a right bastard whenever I was running late– but it was because of them that I got to witness the man just beyond, holding a leather duffle on his shoulder and waving off a black cabbie with a short goodbye.
My feet shuffled further over the damp ground beneath me, utterly perplexed at the sight I’d been gifted, even more so when a pair of familiar blue eyes turned to greet me. He smiled, not one of those half-cocksure-smirks he so often wore, but a proper grin. The kind that brightened his entire face, even when half of it was hiding beneath the brim of another one of his many hats.
I met him halfway, fed up with watching him jog towards me, and let my fists find purchase on the opening of his coat. I shook my head, almost as if to dislodge the image, the mirage, of him standing before me, but no, he was very much real.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.
Marshall merely laughed again, more of a chuckle this time around but a laugh nonetheless, before he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. It was spitting really, though the rain was growing heavier each second we stood there.
“How?” I forced myself to ask again, completely baffled in all honesty. Him being here was the last thing I’d ever expected, I hadn’t noticed a single thing awry, hadn’t even known something was up. “You said you had a last minute thing at the studio. You said you’d be busy today. You–”
Marshall caught my fisted hands in his, having since dropped his duffle to the floor, and squeezed my wrists to recapture my attention. “I lied,” He smiled down at me, not discouraged in the slightest by my obvious frown, “I moved some stuff around, wanted a chance to come see you.”
My mouth felt dry all of sudden but even so I couldn't stop myself from gaping at him, very much still shocked to the very core. Never had anyone–
“I just— what the fuck, Marshall?” I breathed, before I forced out a semi-hysterical laugh, shaking my head once again as I glanced up at him. “You’re insane.”
He merely rolled his eyes, “You already knew that.”
It was with that in which he gifted me a smirk, dropping his chin to nudge his nose against my own, capturing me in a kiss that left me blinking blearily as he pulled away.
“Come on, you gone catch a cold like this.” He murmured after a short moment, jutting his chin out ever so towards the door I’d left wide open in my hurry.
I realised then that I was still clad in my slippers too as a swift chill rippled past us. “Fuck, yeah alright. Best get inside.”
I all but dragged the man with me, unwilling to let go of his hand for a single second as I hurried back into the house. It was a bit of a struggle to keep him close when I locked the door though, that I will admit to, but Em made zero complaints, even as I turned to him with a massive grin and simply stared up at his face.
His brows arched on their own accord after a while and then he laughed softly when he realised I wouldn’t be deigning him with an excuse for my odd behaviour. So instead, he shuffled to peer down the rest of the long hallway, letting his bag slip off his shoulder as he took in what he could of my home. My fucking house. Because he was really here.
When he spun back to face me, duffle kicked into the opposing skirting board, he wore a soft smile, eyes shadowed by the brim of his hat under the warm hallway lights. “So, can I get a tour or we jus’ gone stand here?”
Smiling still, I rolled my eyes at him and stepped past to guide him further inside. The house wasn’t much like his. Sure, it was big, but only big enough to house everyone I held dear.
Danny, no matter how old he was, would always have a room with me, whether he put his army days behind him or not. And Lottie was my baby, she had more than just a room here; her stuff cluttered most of the space, the gym was put together purely because she’d gone through a phase of wanting to start up running but hadn’t wanted people’s judgement, she even had her own little studio at the end of the garden where she did her artwork and whatever hobby she’d picked up that particular week.
There were a couple other rooms going, mostly for guests or Mila if she ever stayed late, and I only had a small home studio in comparison to Em. It was up in the loft space but was mostly just a place where I housed my many vintage guitars and where I’d go to hide away when shit got too much. I didn’t show him that though, seeing as we got caught up downstairs, him fiddling through my many LP’s in the living room whilst I made an attempt to find the few takeaway menus I had stashed away.
“How was the flight anyway?” I found myself wondering once I’d managed the task, humming at the options they gave as I padded out of the kitchen towards him.
“Fine.” He shrugged simply, eyes sweeping away from the Zeppelin album he held and over to me. “You really like this rock shit, got a couple dozen.” It wasn’t said with judgement, he was genuinely curious and I supposed I could see why, it wasn’t the kind of sound anyone would equate with me or my music.
“I grew up with all sorts, you know? Went through a couple phases, but uh, I don’t know, when I went through some shit when I was younger, those spoke to me more.” I answered his unasked question and I was grateful when he just nodded in return, instead of pressing the topic I’d opened up.
“You in the mood for anythin’?” He questioned me as he flipped through the menus I’d handed off, moving to sit down on the edge of the sofa whilst I swapped out the Zeppelin album for the familiar ‘Blue’. Marshall looked up when the intro to California started up, blinking ever so slowly.
“My mom liked this one.” He revealed, as if recalling a distant memory.
My eyebrows raised slightly at the admission and so I turned back towards the player, “I can turn it off if you want.”
Marshall was quick to wave the offer away with a shake of his head, “Nah, leave it on.”
I simply nodded, curious, but as I made my way over to join him, I caught the way his eyes flickered back over to the record player thoughtfully and thought better of asking. “Find anything you might like? Could always go out if you prefer.”
He wrinkled his nose slightly at the second option, just like I knew he would, and so I stifled my amusement when he shook his head once more, “Fish and chips good with you?”
I snorted, snatching up the local chip shop menu from his grasp. “What is it with you yanks and wanting to go full native the second you land?” I teased, looking over it once more even though it was only last week when Danny had had a craving for it.
Em rolled his eyes at the jab and then shoved at my shoulder hard enough to have me flailing back into the sofa cushions with a slight squeak before I eventually chuckled.
“I’m only messin’! Christ.” I retorted, struggling to sit back up again. “We can get poxy fish ‘n chips, your majesty. You’ll like this lot too– proper sort, you know? Usually I only ever like it when we’re by the sea, just tastes better. But this place is just as good.”
I let my eyes roam over the menu again, unsure if I was really up for a whole cod or not. Would probably get something lighter or just stuff my face with chips like I typically ended up doing.
It was only after I’d noticed the silence that followed my rant that I looked up though, a tad bit surprised to see Marshall already watching me.
I quirked a brow his way, “What?”
He narrowed his eyes, though they were only tinted with humour, seemingly pleased with something. “Nothin’. Just– your accent.”
Wrinkling my nose in offense, I stared back at him, “What’s wrong with it? Don’t tell me you're starting that shite up again. Z already gave me the low-down, remember?”
Em merely shook his head around another light chortle, “Idiot, no. It’s jus’ stronger here is all.”
Blinking, I waited. “Is that a bad thing?”
Another famous smirk, “Never said that.”
I rolled my eyes before chucking a cushion his way, “Keep it up and you can find a hotel, Mathers.”
…
The rattle of the front door stirred me at some point later in the evening and I sniffed as I roused from where I’d supposedly been nodding off on the sofa.
The tele was still on but the volume lowered, the lamp in the far corner was dulled to its dimmest setting, and Marshall was still sprawled out to the right of me. He too appeared to have heard the door, but I supposed that if he hadn’t he would have woken up to the loud bang or the hissed whispers which followed.
“Shit, I thought you’d catch that!”
“Me? Te fuck d’ye tink dat for?”
“Shut up, you twat! You’re bein’ way too loud ‘n way too fuckin’ Irish.” Came Danny’s familiar lilt in reply.
“Tae fookin’ Irish? How dae hell d’ye sound too Irish. If anythin’ ye sounds too fookin’ English.” Tadgh quipped back, his voice slurred from a few too many drinks I could only guess– something which did in fact strengthen his already strong Irish accent. “Wha’ would me Ma say if ked see me now, eh?”
“Daft prat.” Danny said a second later, almost fond, “You’ll wake Lia if you keep up, you know.”
“Ah tha beour o’ yers, she’s a real keeper.”
Danny must have rolled his eyes in return, or something of sort, because he blew out a large breath before he replied, “You just think that ‘cause she’s letting you shack up ‘ere.”
“No!” Tadgh exclaimed loudly, earning another round of sharp shushes. When he spoke again his voice was softer but nowhere near quieter, “No– she’s a real darlin’. ‘M glad ta have someone like ‘er as me future sister or wat’ver.”
I frowned at his wording as I struggled to pull myself out from under Marshall’s heavy arm and the blanket he’d seemingly draped over us before dozing off too.
“Oi, what I tell you?” Danny hissed back, but it lacked much heat as the two lads managed to stumble their way further down the hall.
Tadgh only laughed, high and gleeful. “Away wit ye. Ain’t no one ‘round!”
Em mumbled as he rubbed at his eyes before he fished out his phone from where it had been wedged beneath his thigh, 03:13. His lips were pouted, something that tended to happen whenever he was tired, eyes barely open whilst I kicked my legs free from the throw and pulled myself to my feet.
“El’s asleep, you dimwit. She could– AH!” Danny screamed, obviously not having expected to see my face when he’d switched the kitchen light on. I winced at the sudden brightness, shielding my eyes from view until I could readjust. Danny went on, “What the fuck’s wrong with you? Creepin’ round like a ghost in the middle of the night!”
I levelled the twat with an expression rivalling the actual dead but received only a strange look in turn, he appeared almost anxious or apprehensive. It was the same face he’d made the night I’d had to bail him out of the local lock-up at fifteen, all twiddling thumbs and wide eyes.
“One, it’s my house. Two, what’s wrong with the pair of yous? It’s three fucking am, you’re rat arsed and stomping about like the BFG’s given you his shoes to flaunt around in.” I muttered back, shaking my head at them with squinted eyes, “Jesus, why the fuck do they make kitchen lights so bright?” I added on in complaint, rubbing at my left eye before I finally huffed.
“Lia!” Tadgh beamed brightly, as if just having caught sight of me, practically hanging off of Danny now, something which the latter only just seemed to realise before he shoved his mate off like he’d been struck by lightning. I narrowed my eyes at them further. “Di’ I tell ye how tankful I am te be stayin’ witch’ya?”
I couldn’t help the softness that overtook my previous frown upon hearing his words, no matter how drunk he was. “You have, Tadghy. And like I’ve told you before, I love havin’ you here so there’s no need for it.”
To my horror, the giant lad sniffed in retort and I was very much shocked to see the teary glaze his eyes had quickly taken on, “Yer a– Jaysus, ‘m a mess! But honest. Yer jus’, well yer just sometin’ outta one of ‘em story books.”
Startled, I could only blink at him before managing to conjure up a small smile as I stepped forward to take the boy by the elbow, squeezing his forearm in quiet comfort. “You ain’t too bad yourself, T. Now why don’t you both head on up to bed, take a couple waters with you, yeah? Painkillers are in the bathroom cabinet.”
That last bit was mostly for Dan, who seemed to be the less bladdered of the two, but Tadgh roped me into a hug all the same, surprising a laugh out of me when my feet were suddenly lifted off of the floor.
“Alright, big boy. Put me down!”
Tadgh merely grinned before dropping me and returning to Danny’s side, leaning into him until my brother was carrying most of his weight. Dan rolled his eyes, but even with the obvious exasperation I could also see the real affection he held for the man. “Come on, you dafty. You’re out for the count.”
“Un, two, tree-” The Irish man began to tally, earning a round of huffed laughter from both Danny and I.
Dan muttered a quiet thanks to me after I pushed two water bottles into the crook of his arm, before he then turned to trudge the pair of them back towards the staircase. “Night.” He whispered to me over his shoulder.
I waved him off before switching out the kitchen light and trudging back into the living room, it was there that I found a sleepy looking Em but a tidy looking sofa. “You didn’t have to clear up.” I murmured around a sweet smile, padding closer to turn the tv off and toss the remote down onto the cushions.
Marshall just brushed me off, tucking his phone into the pocket of his shorts before he wrapped me up in a much needed hug. “Your brother?” He asked quietly above my head, pressing a kiss into my hair.
I hummed, content to stay there for as long as he would let me. “I ‘spose he and T decided to hit a club or something after the film, were seven shots to the wind. Could hardly stand upright.”
Em’s soft huff of laughter lulled me even further, there was just something about the sound. “Been there.” He muttered, “They gone be ok?”
“Yeah.” I whispered into his shoulder, before he finally withdrew enough to take my hand in his. “Bed?” I wondered, peering up at him with heavy lids.
He hummed in answer, kissing the inside of my wrist before dropping our hands and allowing me to lead the way. I had already placed his duffle down in my room before the food had arrived, so it was perched on top of my comforter when we walked in. Marshall took the time to look around the room whilst I swapped out my sweats for a t-shirt and pulled the duvet out from where I'd previously tucked it beneath my pillows.
He padded over soon enough, unzipping his bag to withdraw some clothes and whatever else he needed, before he joined me beneath the covers not five minutes later. It was only then that I realised how much I had missed sleeping beside someone. Because, in truth, I’d never really shared that with anyone before him.
It was also with that thought in which I allowed him to wind himself around me, his skin soft, his touch gentle. The room was encased in darkness, but there was just enough light that I could still make out the slow blinks he was making. “Sleep.” I told him, and carefully wiped away the wrinkle between his brows.
He nodded against the pillow case but didn’t relent his hold on me, nor did he close his eyes completely. Fighting sleep. “In a minute.” He said before he reached out to trail a finger over my upper lip. He seemed content to keep at it whilst I watched on.
“Okay.” I agreed in a quiet whisper, gently pressing a kiss to the pad of his finger before my eyes began to flutter closed too, “Okay.”
–
Paul Rosenberg @/rosenberg
Oct 26, 2014
"Walk On Water" – Eminem, featuring ELIA. Available Now.
Mila Romanov @/milaroman
Oct 26, 2014
Beyond proud of this one @/ELIA @/Eminem (link to audio video)
#REVIVAL #Walkonwater
OHDannyboy @/Dantheman
Oct 26, 2024
Replied to @/marshallmathershq > GOOOFFFF THAT’S MY SISTER!! @/ELIA @/ELIA @/ELIA @/ELIA @/ELIA @/ELIA @/ELIA
–
“I’m gonna throttle him!” I all but screamed, groaning loudly as I buried my face back into my pillow.
It was, peering at the clock– barely eight in the fucking morning! And yet, somehow, my brother had not only managed to wake up five hours after getting through the front door, but also had the rest of us up and at ‘em too because of the loud music he had blaring downstairs.
A low chuckle emanated from somewhere beside me before a gentle hand came to rest on the small of my back, caressing the skin where my shirt had ridden up. “This normal?” Came a voice wrecked by sleep and gruff in tone. It sent a trail of goosebumps down my spine.
Still, I groaned again, unhappily, before shifting my face enough to be able to gather some small amount of air and take a peek at the man. “Would you regret stayin’ if I said yeah?”
Another amused huff, “If it meant I still got this? Then no.”
I rolled my eyes, he was far too fucking soppy in the mornings. “Liar.”
The hand on my back dipped lower to crease of my thigh and pinched the muscle there before withdrawing when I shot upwards to avoid being attacked again. I kicked at his lower leg in retaliation too, but Marshall paid the action no mind, merely capturing my foot between his own and dragging me closer across the mattress.
“Oi!”
“Oi,” He mimicked me, making fun, before he finally settled enough, leaving the pair of us wrapped up with the duvet pooled around our hips, “You always this moody, or have I jus’ been deludin’ myself in your absence?”
“In my absence? When did you get so poetic, Shakespeare?” I jibbed, smirking at him from across the pillow we now shared. “But yes, you can’t takesy backsy’s now though, contracts have been signed, people have been made aware.”
Em merely snorted, “Deal with the devil, eh?”
“Title of your next song for me.”
Squeezing me tightly in retribution, Marshall quickly had me laughing manically when he attempted to tickle every square inch he could reach without relenting his hold.
“Marsh!” I squealed, voice high as I fought to try and escape the onslaught, “Piss off, you massive– ow! Shove off, you twat! Stop!”
“Aye! What is with you an’ kickin’, you fucking goblin.”
“I’m the goblin? You’re a bastard! Who tickles someone first thing in, the, fucking, morning?” I scoffed back, pushing out my final words as I managed to free myself from his grasp, tangling myself further in the sheets as I threw my body back towards the foot of the bed. Marshall simply laughed.
His phone buzzed on the bedside table a second later though and Em reached for it, peering at the notification before tossing it my way.
Messages
Dre
Good fuckin song
World knows it too
I blew out a heavy breath.
“It’s out.” It was less of a question and more of a what-the-actual-fuck, in truth.
Marshall simply hummed, hand reaching out to thumb the jut of my knee. “It’s out.” He repeated in a quiet murmur.
I couldn’t help the sudden giggles which escaped me, gasping as I covered my mouth before staring wide eyed down at Em. “It’s out!” I said once more before diving for him, laughing the entire time and in complete awe of the 180 my life had taken.
…
It didn’t take us too long to venture downstairs to see what all the fuss was about… Marshall trailing behind me as I rounded the kitchen doorframe, pausing abruptly when I caught the mess which awaited me.
Everywhere I looked there was flour, whether it was just a trail or a splatter or you know, a hand crafted Tower of fucking Piza.
“Danny.” I all but growled out, narrowing my eyes at the crime scene. My brother startled at my unexpected presence, eyes as wide as the grin he wore until his head shot over to where Tadgh was standing by the oven, cooking up a storm.
“We wanted to surprise ya!”
Tadgh turned at the sound of Danny’s high-pitched excuse, blinking at me owlishly before the corners of his mouth tilted upwards in a I-can-do-nothing-wrong smile. He was wearing only an apron and a pair of black undies, the latter of which was covered in white powder and bore the swipe of a handprint. I deigned not to notice it.
“Aye, there she is! The woman ‘erself!” Tadgh exclaimed, wielding the spatula he held at me in a showful gesture. “How’s it feel to–” He cut himself off there, bright eyes widening comically just as Marshall padded in to stand behind me, a hand finding purchase on my waist.
I glanced up just in time to see Em throw the two a sleepy smile as he dipped his chin in greeting.
“Uh.” Came from the eloquent Danny, right before Tadgh blinked himself out of whatever stupor he’d worked himself into.
“Did I drink tae much last night?”
I quirked a brow at the fella before replying in a deadened voice, “Yes.”
Tadgh had the good conscience to at least wince, however theatrically, before he gave me a pitiful grin. It was Danny who answered me though, seemingly having ‘adapted’ to the newcomer, “Marshall’s here. When did Marshall get here? Can we call you Marshall, or?”
I’d spoken too soon.
Sighing whilst Em snorted out a laugh, I shuffled over to fill the kettle, glancing back over my shoulder to the man who looked so at home in my own kitchen it was almost baffling to see. “Tea, coffee?”
Marshall’s lips twitched at the ask, a barely there smile before he nodded, moving to take up residence on one of the barstools, “Tea, please.”
“Oh a looker, and he has manners!” Tadgh tactfully teased, already having moved back to toy with whatever it was he was frying. He pointed the spatula at Dan a second later, “You could learn a thing or two, mister.”
“Piss off.” Danny scoffed, swatting T round the back of the head before he sheepishly rubbed at his neck, eyes flitting between Em and I. “You gone offer us a brew or?”
“Can you handle not dribbling it all down your chin or have you worked through the fanboy phase yet?” I snarked back even as I withdrew four mugs from one of the cupboards.
Danny was scowling when I looked back at him, but eventually he rolled his eyes, falling back to lean against the counter as he turned to grace Marshall with his usual normalcy.
“You just caught me by surprise is all.” He explained, only a tad bit embarrassed before he visibly shrugged the whole thing off. He was good like that. “It’s nice to finally meet you though, mate. You get in last night then?” He wondered aloud, eyes flickering over to where Tadgh stood for a split second.
“Around nine.” Em answered him with a genuine smile just as the kettle whistled, “You have a good night?” He asked in return and there was an undercurrent of something lining his tone but nothing I could pinpoint, Dan though… his cheeks flushed ever so before he sniffed and flashed Marshall a cheeky grin.
“Had to drown my sorrows some way. This one thought it’d be a grand idea to drag me to see a horror film.” Danny said, nudging his chin in T’s direction.
Tadgh in turn, gave him a manic sort of grin, the kind that showed just how well that had gone down. “Fucker shit himself at er’y turn.” He laughed loudly, flipping the sizzling– was that bacon? “You’d’ve thought the feckin’ doll was sat beside him wit’ how hard he was grippin’ his chair.”
I snorted at the picture my mind conjured and resorted to rolling my eyes when my brother cut me a sharp glare.
“You know I fucking hate them.” Danny defended himself.
Holding my hands up in a placating manner, I then moved to dump the used teabags into the bin, “I’ve not said nowt.”
“But you’re thinkin’ it!”
I hid my next smirk behind the brim of my mug whilst sliding Em’s over to him and hopping into the seat beside him.
Danny huffed, wrinkling his nose at me before he scooped up his own brew, passing Tadgh’s off to him as he went. It was entirely too domestic, how cute.
“All I’m gonna say is that some people have the stomach for it, others do not.” I commented with a simple shrug, “At least you didn’t piss yourself this time 'round."
That earnt me a grape to the chin, which wasn’t all that undeserved really. Still, I rolled my eyes at his antics before popping the fruit into my mouth.
“Ye pissed yerself?” Tadgh tittered, smugness radiating off of him, “When was that then? Before or after basic trainin’?”
Dan threw a grape at him too, I deigned to move that fruit bowl away from that corner sooner or later.
“Do one.”
T snorted whilst Marshall watched on, seemingly just happy to be there.
“Aye be careful, ye eejit!”
I let go of another soft sigh, sipping at my tea before murmuring to Em, “Regret it yet?”
The man merely shook his head in amusement, socked feet looping their way around my ankles.
Breakfast was just as lively an affair, with eggs and pancakes and whatever else ending up on a majority of the plates– the rest everywhere else. I figured the next tenants would be finding flour long after I’d been gone.
Marshall sat beside me at the table, whilst Dan and T took the opposing chairs, and thankfully, the three got on as well as a house on fire. A good thing that! But it was honestly so relieving to see, a worry I’d not really realised I’d had until it had hit me square in the face.
Danny had seemed to develop a hurt my sister, I hurt you attitude at one point which he’d ultimately dropped when Em had caught on and reassured him as well as he could without giving the game away. Whilst Tadgh had just been happy to pester the man with questions that had Marshall mostly laughing, shit like... who’s got the biggest dick in Hollywood to have you ever met Enya? Which had dissolved into something almost blasphemous when Marshall hadn’t known who the hell Enya was.
It had been a nice morning in all, but had soon been interrupted by the ringing of the house phone. I’d gone to pick it up, leaving the boys to finish lapping at their plates whilst simultaneously hoping that they’d start on the clear up.
“Hello?” I answered, shaking my head ever so when I caught sight of a floured footprint about a stretch away.
“Lia?”
I blinked at the voice before a beaming grin overwhelmed my face. “Z! How you doing, lovely?”
Her soft giggle echoed down the line, “Hey, yeah. I’m good, Dad texted to say he made it but I had to hear it for myself. Was a little worried that this wouldn’t be the right number when neither of you answered your phones.”
“Oh sorry, lovely. Been having breakfast, think they’re upstairs charging. Didn’t mean to worry you.” I replied, a sinking feeling having erupted in my chest just at the mere thought.
Rosie waved me off with another sweet chuckle though, “You’re all good. Glad I caught you though, I’ve been listening to the song since I woke up. It’s so good, Elia. I– don’t tell Dad, but it’s one of my favourites.”
We shared a bit of amusement at that. “I’m just happy you like it, would’ve had to have scrapped it otherwise.”
“You liar, you would not!”
I laughed joyously, “My biggest critic will always be myself, but you, Z, you hold a whole load of cards, that I promise you. If you hadn’t liked it, well, I would’ve had to have done something.”
“Sure.” I could almost hear her eyeroll even as she chuckled away, “I did like it though, so that’s all that matters. Is Dad there, too?”
“Hang on,” I answered her, turning around and pushing the phone into my shoulder to muffle my oncoming shout, “Marsh?”
There was a brief pause before a couple of low ooh’s echoed out from the kitchen and I rolled my eyes at the idiots they’d come from just before Marshall poked his head around the far corner. He raised his brows in question, and so I gestured at the phone.
“For you.” I told him, receiving a half-frown as he walked closer and carefully took the phone from my hand.
“Uh?” He said ever so eloquently before the girl on the other end must have answered him, I could tell just from the way his expression morphed. “Hey, baby. You’re up early.”
Upon hearing his words, I tried to work out what time it had to be back in Detroit, almost six-thirty probably?
I brushed a hand over Em’s elbow to grab his attention quickly and tilted my head back down the hall, wanting to give the pair a little privacy. The man flashed me a grateful look, capturing my hand in his and squeezing before I wandered back the way I’d come.
When I entered the kitchen, T and Danny were still pissing about but mostly just joking back and forth, bickering between themselves really. The pair of them looked up when I entered.
“How much trouble is he in then?” Tadgh pestered with a shit-eating grin.
I just rolled my eyes as I fell back into my chair, “None, you idiots. Rosie called.”
Dan’s brows pinched in thought, “His daughter?”
“Forgot he had a kid.” Tadgh blinked.
Once again, I had to roll my eyes.
“Two.” I corrected.
Tadgh and Danny both blew out a deep breath at the same time, neither of them surprised by the parallel.
“Are you two becoming the same person, moulding into one?” I had to question them, throughout their entire stay I’d been picking up on it. If one of them yawned, the other would soon follow. They’d finish each other’s sentences a lot of the time. Even react similarly to things. It was eerily sweet.
Danny though, he just huffed at me, whilst T wiggled his brows, “What a specimen that’d be, ay?”
Smirking, I stood from the table and started clearing away what was left of Marshall and I’s plates, “Honestly terrifying. You two best clean this mess up, by the way. You ain’t payin’ your way and though breakfast was nice, I am no maid.”
“She claims as she does exactly that,” Danny snorted just as I tossed a tea towel over my shoulder to throw an empty carton out, shaking his head at me.
“Fine. I’ll leave you two to it then!” I snarked, throwing the towel his way with a jabbing smile before picking up what remained of my brew and leaving the pair behind me.
It was just as I rounded the first corner that I heard Tadgh’s tutt, “You’re a feckin’ pleb.”
“Shut it.”
–
Rolling Stone @/rollngstone
Oct 27, 2014
Eminem's 'Walk on Water' is here, featuring artist ELIA. A new collaboration for the Rapper, will we be seeing more of this pair?
More: (Link to video)
Perez @/PHilton
Oct 27, 2014
Were the rumours surrounding Eminem and English singer ELIA just promo for their new single?
FIND OUT MORE here: ‘Article.htpp//PZH’ #Fail
Shady HQ @/HQeminem
Oct 27, 2014
Replied to @/iliveinatrailer2 > We don’t condone hate here! If you feel a certain way about the music or even that the song should have been performed by someone else, fine. But don’t share it in that way. Respect Marshall’s decision to feature Elia and take into consideration the fact that on the credits she actually is listed as the main writer:)
TMZ @/tmz_
Oct 27, 2014
Eminem spotted in Heathrow the day of single release… tmz.me/PPceyKLi
Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.
| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2
Notes: Another longer one.. but the first part is the interview I mentioned in the last update! Hopefully it comes out how I intended, there's a difference in speaker based on font but I think it's pretty easy to sus out:) The hyphenated answers are written or on a whiteboard! The rest of the update is just... emotionsssss!!
Eminem and Elia take the Ultimate Friendship Test
AskCeleb
Eminem and ELIA just revealed the first time they met, their dating icks, the number one item on their bucket list, and more!
It's no secret that these two icons have been in some truly beloved projects over the years, from our tv screens to big album releases! But none of us saw this collaboration coming, so take a look as we dive deeper into their friendship, as well as the ins and outs of their latest single in the Ultimate Test of Friendship to see just how much these two really know about one another…
“Hey, I’m Elia and–”
“I’m Marshall Mathers.”
“And we’re here to put our acquaintance to the test!”
“Acquaintance. Seriously?”
“We’re actually deeply connected at this point. It pains me whenever he’s not near. We can–”
“WE CAN EVEN SPEAK at the same time.”
“–SPEAK at the same time! Very strange, really cool.”
“Dweeb.”
…
“So who do you think’s going to win?”
“Me, duh.”
“Probably him, to be honest. He’s a sore loser so I’m praying on it. But! He’s also crazy good at just remembering the weirdest things, so.”
“Let’s dive right in by asking– When was the first time you met?”
- Detroit Airport
- After Party
“What? What after party??”
“Years back, you were wearin’ this.. Blue dress, I think? Had your hair down. Recognised you from that perfume advert you did.”
“One, why have you never mentioned this? And TWO! Never mention that ad again, please, I’m begging here, thank you ever so much. Now moving on!”
"... I'm bringing that one back up by the way."
“Can we touch on first impressions here? What did you first think after meeting, or interacting rather?”
“Meaning when we first met each other, b– Marsh. Parties don’t count.”
“Uh, I know that first phone call had me crackin’ up.. but when I came and got you that first time? I can’t remember feelin’ too much aside from like, relief almost. Jus’ remember hearin’ about your flight and listenin’ to you talk a hundred miles a minute–”
“I did not!”
“Woman, you talk when you nervous.”
“Call me out, why don’t you.”
“I swear to.. But yeah, it was a relief to know she wasn’t hidin’ behind some persona she'd made up or some s**t. She was just her, you know?”
“So you can be nice, awh! Hey, I’m just messing!”
“Jus’ answer 'fore I leave.”
“As if you would. But I suppose meeting you– if we count that first call– then I was more shocked than anything else? It was so out of the blue for me and I know that I was mostly just a mess of emotions.”
“You were real sweet.”
“You have to say that. Anyway, I was nervous at the airport yes, but I’d also just woken up, so I mostly remember bein’ sort of blown away by how genuine you seemed? Like you were the same as you were over text and on our phone calls, and that thought in itself just put me more at ease. He ALSO was the perfect gentleman, by the way. Just had to drop that in there for all the fans– opened doors for me, carried my suitcases. All that jazz.”
“She’s a natural liar. Next question.”
“Name their first childhood crush.”
“What like, random kid in preschool or a celebrity? ‘Cause she ain’t gettin’ neither.”
“I could!”
“Let’s go... celebrity, just for the sake of anonymity.”
“Um okay, yours would probably have to be… Hang on, lemme think back sixty years.”
“Quit playin’-- sixty years my a**.”
“I don’t know really, J-Lo?”
“EHH-ERRR, Wonder Woman. Obviously.”
“Oh, obviously! How stupid of me not to recall any previous conversation we've had featuring Wonder Woman. Go on then, what’s mine, Mr-Know-It-All?”
“Easy, you told me this awhile back. Peter Pan.”
“F***er! When did I tell you that?”
"Before New York."
"I actually hate you right now."
“Middle Names?”
- Bruce!
- “I can’t f****in’ spell it.” Keeva?
“Caoimhe, but it’s cute you tried. My Dad was Irish, or so I’m told, the name comes from his Aunt or somethin’. My mum was very fond of her.”
“Bruce for Batman.”
“Phone number, by heart.”
“I can remember the last half of his? Last three digits for sure.”
“Bold claim. I know yours, can’t say it though. Don’ need you dealin’ with anymore stalkers.”
“Aside from you, you mean?”
“How many tattoos does the other person have?”
“I don’t know how many I f***in’ have.”
“You have eight or nine? I’m pretty sure.”
“S**t, really?”
“Hm, yeah. Tryna add it up in my head.”
“Yours is easy, you have like three. Two are tiny, don't count.”
“Fair.”
“Dream Artist to collab with.”
“Dead or Alive?”
“Sure!”
- Pac “Would sacrifice my left arm to see you two battle.” Alive >> Idk, J Cole? “It’s overdue.”
- Stevie Nicks?
“City they were born in!”
“Mine’s easy though. Name the town, or at least the general area– gimme a side here, man!”
“Jheeze, fine. Always so damn picky.”
- Saint Joseph, Missouri!!
- East “Even though she supports a North London team.”
“It was thrust upon me!”
“You really went with thrust there?”
“Biggest bully, my God.”
“Go to snack?”
- Anything Sweet
- Fries
“For a snack??”
“I’ve seen you eat fries any and everywhere, don’t start.”
“But a snack, Marsh. Like somethin’ small for when you’re on the go! We already established enough about me this morning– I don't need this adding to my sudden awareness of that fact!”
“Don’t get me started again. I swear I’ll have to dip out.”
"AH, he's almost smiling!"
“Okay, a little deeper now! Their dating icks or pet peeves?”
“Christtttt, um. This is proper hard. I ‘spose for you it's just when someone’s being fake?”
“Nah, that’s all people. Hate that s**t.”
“True, uh.. Maybe when they get insulted or upset when you’re just messing around? Like being mean to be funny, I guess. You’ve dropped that one before.”
“Sure.”
“You can say no if I’m wrong.”
“I think that’s pretty correct though. It’s the way I am, if somebody don’ get that or like it, they can leave.”
“There's the door!”
“Idiot.. Yours would have to be when someone is bein’ too much. Too soppy. This girl can’t stand nobody bein’ nice to her, I swear. Would eat a bouquet 'fore you could hand her one.”
“I was dropped as a child, yes.”
“The No. 1 item on their bucket list?”
“Ooh, that’s tough. You’ve done so much.”
“For you, I’d say somethin’ like, seein’ your sister graduate.”
“That’s dead cute. Even if it’s a little way off. I do hope she ends up doing something like that though, I never got to go down that path and she’s way too smart not to.”
“You crazy smart too though.”
“But in a different way! Still, yours would definitely be owning some never before seen beat maker I’ve haven't yet heard of, or meeting all of the Beastie Boys.”
“Beat maker, really?”
“I don’t know what they’re called, Marshall!”
“How they take their coffee..”
“She ain’t like coffee. Will gag at times.”
“True. He likes his black, LOTS of sugar. Honestly just keep the sugar coming until every dentist in the surrounding area starts screaming.”
“It ain’ that bad. She likes her tea milky. Has a real f****in' preference for which teabag you use though, how long it gotta be stooped an’ all that s**t.”
“It’s an art form.”
“Okay, last one! When’s their Birthday?”
- October 18th :)
- 7 / 09
“What’s your thing again, the birthday thing?”
“Come again?”
“Your sign, things e’rybodys always talkin' about.”
“You’re an actual alien. You know that? I’m a virgo.”
“Right, right. That’s the boring one?"
“Boring? How’s it boring, you kn*bhead?? Yours is practically just two lines on top off the other.”
“They’re scales.”
“You hadn’t KNOWN the word for zodiac a second ago! But you just so happen to know that they’re scales?? Why are you always such an idiot to me?”
“Makes you smile.”
[Comments:]
/User: He remembered her at an after party. Before they ever even met. He remembered the colour of her dress. How are we not calling this man a simp???
/User: They texted and called?? For how long?? DETAILS people
/User: What happened in New York???
/User: He knows her middle name!!!
//User: So? She knows his
///User: EVERYBODY knows his
/User: She doesn’t know her dad? Since when?
//User: Delve deeper into the lore child ✨
/User: Stalkers?? ALSO why does he know her number off the top of his head??? I don’t even know my moms..
/User: He’s so real for not knowing how many times he was brutally attacked with a needle SIGH
//User: The bigger picture: El has TATTOOS??
/User: She’s on the money with that Cole collab GET AT IT MARSHALL
//User: I wanna see him on a track with Game
///User: Baby that ain’t never happening..
/User: COYGCOYGCOYGCOYGCOYG
/User: EAST LONDON TIL WE DIE
/User: Missouri?? Uh since tf when?
//User: Since always 😭
/User: He knows her footie team.
/User: Thrust
//User: Thrust?
///User: Thrust.
/User: UH, what did WE establish this morning? Let the rest of the class know pls miss elia
/User: He knows her too well THAT LOOK HE GIVES TOO
//User: He really does know her, mentioning her sister so easily??
/User: I need to be a fly on their dressing room wall
/User: HE CANT NOT COMPLIMENT HERRRRRR I SWEAR
//User: His brain reboots every time he does it I swear
/User: Ok, someone take me out. I need this type of love IN my LIFE. She hates coffee, he knows this, she loves tea, he rattles off her order… AHHHHHGHHH
/User: Their little whiteboard answers are so cute lmao
/User: HER BEIN A VIRGO MAKES SO MUCH SENSE
/User: MAKES. YOU. SMILE. HA HAHAHA Marshall ima need a minute or a shotgun
/User: Petition for more interviews right now. @/Rosenberg
--
I honestly had expected to feel a little lighter once we’d walked out of the interview, even after we’d been herded straight into an awaiting car. It seemed, even this early, that Marshall’s fans never gave in easy; there had been almost forty people crowding the front entrance to the office when we’d wrapped up but it had only doubled when an intern on a coffee run had confirmed his presence inside.
It was endearing to watch the way Marshall felt conflicted about leaving them all behind without even a wave to offer, but the security Paul had forced his way hadn’t given him much of an option, commenting on the street’s too enclosed quarters and the worry for, not just his safety, but mine also.
Still, he’d gotten his chance to at least greet them all when we’d finally pulled out of the back alley, having prompted our driver into slowing down so that he could at least acknowledge them as we passed.
We had planned to grab a late breakfast/early lunch, but it had seemed impossible at that moment so Marshall had waved the driver on back to the house when asked where to. I’d slowly reverted back into the pool of anxiety I’d managed to cloak during our encounter with the lovely staff throughout our time at the studio though, chewing on my lower lip and tapping away again as thoughts of Lottie plagued my mind on the journey back.
I wondered over whether she’d still be there when we got back, and was sad enough to admit that I didn't know if I could handle it or not if she was. I wasn’t willing to gear up for another round if she was there, and I knew that it would ultimately fuel her anger if she had left and I went chasing her down.
Em, all knowing and powerful being that he was, had already attuned to my shift in demeanour but hadn’t mentioned it, instead he’d merely taken my hand back in his and filled the lulling silence with stories from his first trip to London.
It had done wonders to preoccupy my mind but when we eventually pulled into the driveway, practically two hours later, I’d almost asked the driver to turn back around, or at least do another spin of the block. Although before I could, Marshall had already opened his door and rounded the car to lure me out of mine.
I stared up at him for a long second before I’d plucked up enough courage to fucking pull myself together and get my head on straight, taking his hand as I thanked the man behind the wheel for a sixth time that day.
“I fuckin’ hate this.” I muttered, listening to the car pull away off the gravel whilst I looked back up at the house.
Em blew out a small chuckle, not quite amused but close enough as he squeezed my hand by a fraction. When I glanced over at him, he cocked his head in a fashion that quietly imitated that of a crow, letting his eyes drift over my face.
“Worst case scenario?”
It wasn’t much of a question, more of an order. Pretty blunt coming from him, in truth, but the tone he used spurred me into thinking, chewing on the inside of my cheek for a split second before I answered him. “She’s lit a pyre for me inside and the house burns down.”
Marshall’s mouth twitched but he simply raised a single brow to prompt me into revealing the real truth and not the tale I’d conjured up where Lotts believed I was some sort of wicked witch that needed to be burnt at the stake.
I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat and looked away, “She blames me.”
“What for?” Came Marshall’s low but curious drawl.
I shrugged aimlessly, though I did know. He waited me out all the same.
“For everything?” I said, “For what happened last night. For my mum being the way she is. For me, taking over the entire situation. For not letting her see– him…” I confessed. Vowing not to cry. I would not cry, my pride wouldn’t allow it, but my voice sounded choked even to my own ears, even so I tried to finish.
“For my past.”
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so surprised, seeing as I jumped at the sudden approach, when Marshall wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight even as I tried to brush the entire admission off, tried to untangle from his unrelenting hold. He just continued to hold on. Until I slumped into it, a puppet with its string cut, and let my eyes slip closed just as my head fell against his shoulder.
It was a long while though before I found the strength to hug him back, fists encased in the front of his hoodie whilst he rocked us ever so slightly. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure if the action was purposeful, but it helped either way.
Eventually, he spoke again, and pressed this close, my skin buzzed at the very sound of it.
“You can’t run from it all, baby. I’ve done it, it ain’t fun. Sometimes you just gotta face up to the fact that, yeah, it might hurt people. And they might even hate you for it. But only you hold a candle to that blame. ‘Cause if you don’t start forgivin’ yourself? Then ain’t nobody else gonna neither.”
His words cracked something open within me, something I’d long since closed off, since before I’d even realised what it was.
Since before I’d even been capable of understanding it.
Because even as a kid I’d been shuttered and closed off. Had learned all too early on what came of want and asking and desperate need. As a kid, I’d had to build and reshape myself into something that no child should have to be. A girl destined for war in a place where no-man’s land was the kitchen table and my helmet was a little too big to let me see.
Where most kids had gone and grazed their knees, for me those falls had been fatal. No one had been there to pick me up or dust me off. I’d never even been asked about how my day was, or if I’d been alright getting home. I’d had to earn my own money at a ridiculous age that would eventually be stolen by the people who should have been watching over me. And I’d become a parent to my siblings without a second thought, never even having had the chance to finish school or waste away my twenties.
And now, now I had someone to hold me up. And God what a terrifying thought it was.
He didn’t utter another word as he let his arms fall away from me, thumbs reaching up to wipe at my cheeks before his fingers threaded themselves through my hair. I stared back at him, wondering what I had done to deserve such a gentle touch. And he, he merely smiled back, as though he could hear what I’d been thinking, then took a step away because he knew as well as I did that a soldier formed was far more hardened than one born. And I couldn’t let myself be seen with my guard down, not just yet.
The house was abuzz with a faint sound when I let myself through the front door, Em two steps behind me. From the sounds of it the downstairs tele seemed to be on and there was a shower running upstairs.
It had just gone eleven, so I wasn’t sure as to who could be where. Lottie tended to sleep in late, whilst Danny had always been an early riser. Tadgh, on the other hand, was a harder read. He’d obviously had the military routine drilled into him, up and out in the garden doing laps before the sun was up in the sky, but other days he’d only rise once the lot of us had been up for hours, always coming down the stairs with a cheeky grin at a little after half past two.
I steeled myself either way, taking comfort in the careful brush of Marshall as he stepped past me to take my coat and hang it, murmuring about phone calls before he departed, leaving me to my own devices in the entryway.
I forced myself to move after a long pause, drifting down the hallway and into the kitchen in hopes that there would be something for me to do.
The sink was half-full again which was both a relief and a nuisance in one. It seemed someone had been content on whipping up a batch of pancakes or something of the sort. Instead of complaining about the mess like I usually would, loudly and teasingly, I simply got to work on cleaning them up, deciding to wash it all by hand instead of throwing what I could in the dishwasher– it was an easy way to occupy my brain with something other than my apprehension.
I was a good portion through when a slight creak caught my attention and my head snapped over to find Lotts stood in the doorway, eyes locked on me before they flitted away again. It felt like we were caught in a stalemate, neither of us knowing the other would be here, until she decidedly moved closer to drop the bowl she’d obviously been using into the water.
I quickly gritted my teeth at the way she’d done so, flicking soapduds up over my arms and across my shirt, but didn’t dignify the transparent tactic with any retribution. She was still angry then…
The fridge rattled open and closed behind me, before a cupboard did the same, and still I forced myself to finish with the task, only letting my eyes trail out past the open window from time to time.
I was down to the last pan and a few plates when she finally broke the silence between us. “Where’d you go dressed like that then?”
My jaw wound tightly shut to keep from answering with my most vindictive quip because I knew she was merely trying to get another rise out of me. So instead, I took a deep breath, unwound the cinch between my molars and answered her in a tone that invited no more of her wrath, “Had an interview for the single. It was an early one.”
I would have told you that last night if you hadn’t flown off the handle…
The girl merely hummed just before the scrape of a kitchen chair dragged across my tiles, I gripped the sponge a little tighter.
“Haven’t listened to it yet.” Lottie revealed, but I already knew that, typically she waited to hear anything I released until we could do so together, “Hope it’s nothing like your first EP though, people still give you grief over that, don’t they?”
She was a right little cow when she wanted to be, knew where to dig and what buttons to press. She truly was me all over.
I wet my lower lip and scrubbed at a scorch mark that wouldn’t shift, “That EP paid for your nappies and formula so I don’t much care what people still say about it.”
In truth, it was fair enough to say that the record hadn’t been my most proudest piece, but it had been a stepping stone for getting me to where I was today and I wouldn't change that fact for the world.
My words to her hadn’t been a lie either, without the EP I still didn’t know what I would have done to have kept social services from getting their hands on her. It had been a shit time and one too many close calls.
Not that she had to know any of that.
We didn’t much talk about life before fame, and the money which came with it, but I knew that she remembered bits and pieces; like mum never being around much, strangers always coming in and out the front door, the screaming matches she and Danny would have when she finally found out about him enlisting.
I often wondered what she remembered about me. Was it Darren the guy I’d kept on strings for a couple months, always lulling him in with drunken kisses and then pushing him away again saying I valued our friendship too much, simply because he was nice and his dad was a copper?
Or did she know about the late nights down by the canal when I’d sold for Gary in the flat below ours for a while, handing out pills in clubs or by doors just so that I could feed us all. Those nights still haunted me, kept me up thinking if anything I’d ever sold had been fatal, been enough to tip some poor sod over the edge. It never failed to make me itch.
I wanted to know sometimes, just flat out ask her, but I didn’t know if I could ever stomach her answer.
“You stayin’ here a couple days then?” I asked instead, pulling the plug out of the drain and letting the loud gurgle cover up the sharp breath I then took.
I kept my back to her, wiping down the side around the sink and then using the hose to rid it of the remaining soap bubbles, before I started drying what I’d placed on the rack.
“They’re in Spain ‘til Thursday.” She replied, and then, “Next Thursday."
I paused. Because– “What?”
I did turn then, throwing her a look that spoke volumes about what I felt about that. I’d not heard a fucking thing from the woman, and now what? She’d just jetted herself off to Spain without a word said about it or Lottie?
Lottie shrugged like it was no big deal.
“Hang on, isn’t he on parole still?”
She looked over at me then, but it wasn’t really at me, almost through me instead. “He told them it was for a funeral, they granted him a week and a half or something.”
I snorted out an ugly laugh full of disbelief, but then again coming from the pair of them I could believe it. Probably used what money I’d sent for Lotts for their fucking holiday. I swear–
“Mum said I can stay at the house so long as it’s not a shithole when she gets back,” Lottie continued on, only fueling my ire and not just because it was more than anything she’d ever given me back then. “But I didn’t wanna stay there on my own, Shan’s gone on a camping trip and Tea’s going to look at colleges and stuff. Knew Dan was here too.”
She shrugged, again.
I had to turn back to the plates, picking up the towel to start drying again as I attempted to ignore the heavy knot that formed in the top of my stomach and the way it seemed to send a pain nothing short of a stabbing sensation throughout my chest.
“So can I then?”
Brow pinching, I shot her a confused look, “Can you what?”
“Stay here?” She inevitably huffed, as though I was being purposefully obtuse.
I blinked.
“What are you on about? When have you ever asked to stay here, Lottie?” I spluttered, utterly bewildered, enough that I gave up on the plates altogether, “This is your home.”
“Yeah, but you’ve got everyone here and stuff–”
I cut her off, at the point of boiling over now.
“I don’t care if the sodding Queen popped round demanding your bedroom, you idiot. You come before any of this lot, including Danny. Who’s old enough to know how to rent a room or I don’t know, take me up on my offer of buying him a flamin’ flat!” I retorted far too quickly, frustration and incredulity harrowing my tone. “Don’t ever ask shit like that, you could shoot me here and now, Lottie, and I’d still call you down for your dinner soon after. Don’t you get that?”
She shrugged. Again.
I willed myself into silence to stop the scream that threatened to crawl out of me.
Then I sagged, sighing in utter defeat. “Lottie.”
Her eyes were brimming with unshed tears when she finally looked back over at me, and all I wanted to do was wrap her up in my arms and not let go.
“What’s happened?” Was all I could think to ask though, not daring to move in fear that she’d retreat like she so often tended to do whenever she was vulnerable or emotional.
“Nothin’.” She shot back but she sniffed just as she finished, “Nothing, alright? Just, it makes no sense. You have everythin’ here. You’ve got your job and your mates, and now, now you’ve even got some famous boyfriend. And all I seem to do is mess it up, drag you back.”
“What are you going on about?” I questioned in an almost whisper. The vice that had forever had a hold on my heart tightened by a tenfold, its ragged chains piercing the muscle and deepening those already imprinted scars.
“You know what!” Lottie shouted at me, hands shaking at her sides before she scoffed, “You’re only here for me, Lia! I know that much, I’m not stupid. I know I stop you from jetting off to wherever you want, to closing deals and working with other writers! I’ve heard Mila cancel enough crap over the phone because you’ve had meetings at my school or ‘cause I wasn’t going to school altogether! I know I hold you back, that I keep you locked here. That you feel the need to look after me ‘cause no one else ever will! I know it all, okay? I know. And I’m sorry. And I just– I don’t mean to mess up your life, okay? I just, I just wanted to make sure I–”
I was across the room in an instant, like a bullet backfiring in the dark, what with the way I wrestled her into my hold and had her head falling into my shoulder, staining the fabric there with her tears and snot and general unpleasantness. I didn’t care, couldn’t. Not then, not ever.
“Bug.” I gasped out like a punch, almost breaking. “God, Lotts. How– How long have you thought that?” I asked her, pushed really, hand resting over the back of her head as my chin settled an inch from it.
She raised a single shoulder in reply.
I forced out a heavy breath.
“You’re the one person I love most on this planet. You hear me? There’s nothing you could say or do that would push me away, or even get me to leave you alone. I worry, I care, I love, and sometimes yeah, I don’t like you, Lotts. But only ever in the same way that you do whenever you claim you hate me. Because we both know it’s never true. Not really, even when I really do piss you off.”
I wasn’t saying any of the right things. But I carried on talking anyway, because I felt it was all I could really do.
“I might have felt the need to step up and take care of you, at one point, yeah. But I was sixteen, lovie. I was scared and always tired, but whenever I looked at you? All of that went away because there wasn’t another person on earth that could stand between me taking care of you. I fought every day to make sure you were healthy, to make sure that mum didn’t mess up like she did me, or even Dan. Everything I did for you, I did because I wanted to. Not because I had to. Never because I had to.”
She was shaking in my arms now, trembling, and all I could picture was her only half a foot shorter and that much smaller, hiding away in the lining of my coat as we waited for a bus to show in the freezing cold so many years ago.
I didn’t remember much of it, just that Mum had meant to be there to pick her up from the park at whatever time, but of course she had forgotten, and when I’d gotten off work to find the flat empty, well, I’d nearly kneeled over in panic.
My hold tightened at the memory, muscles aching and lungs screaming for me to breathe.
“I love my job.” I whispered to her, voice echoing around the kitchen that was now embedded in silence, “I love Danny. And I love my friends. I even love–” I forced out a shaky breath, then swallowed those words back down again. Now was not the– yeah, I couldn't. “I can– look, I can love all of these things, Lotts. But you? You’re my everything. I could lose my job, or my career could tank. But it would never be down to you. Marshall and I, things are new and fun and exciting, but even he knows you come before anything and anyone else. Do you understand that?”
She sniffled, still crying into my shoulder, but her hands were digging almost painfully into my back now. A feeling I cherished, stupid I know, but it showed that she was listening. Hearing me.
“We can fight and argue, you can storm away or slam a couple doors in my face. It doesn’t matter because I know we’ll be fine soon enough. We’ve gone through too much to give up on each other now.” I murmured into her hair, eyes fixated on the far corner. “And–” I heaved in a large breath then, scared and terrified to say it, but needing to all the same. “And if you do want to talk about whatever it is your dad or maybe even Mum has told you, then I’ll answer what I can.”
Lottie reeled away from me then, eyes bright with tears and rimmed red as her mouth dropped open and her head shook. “No, that’s not–”
I smiled softly, my own eyes stinging too. I reached out to smooth her hair back behind her ear, gazing down at her and seeing so much of myself all of a sudden. “I know. But you’re old enough. I don’t know if you’ll believe it all but,”
“Why wouldn’t I?” She frowned up at me, lower lip bitten and pink.
“‘Cause it might be hard to.” I admitted, tension curling around me like a snake. “Because not all of it is, easy?”
So reminiscent to her younger self, Lottie used the back of her sleeve to wipe at her nose, then shook her head at me. “I don’t know what to believe any more.”
And I–
Well, I couldn’t fault her for that. So instead, I just tugged her back in for another hug, savouring it for a moment because in truth a small part of me was afraid that soon it wouldn’t be like this. Whether it was us just growing apart, or choosing sides, or her getting older.
Each time I thought of it, it pained me. But this time, it was like a knife right through my heart.
–
Marshall’s stay was slowly coming to an end. I knew that much. He’d been here more than just a couple days, some of them spent in and around London doing promo for the album, others just with us back at the house, doing something or other.
It had been, not tense, but something akin to it, back at the house, everyone walking on eggshells a tad, strings wound too tight. So I had decided to force everyone out early one morning, a couple days before Marshall was set to fly back to The States, and into the back of a caravan I’d rented for the foreseeable.
It wasn’t anything too flashy, an older model for sure, but one with enough room to comfortably fit the five of us. Danny hadn’t been much for it when I’d dropped it on them all the evening before, having spent enough of his childhood in one. Marshall too had been on the fence, his quiet acceptance having spoken volumes. But Tadgh was practically bouncing off the walls in his excitement and Lotts, well, she’d claimed that as long as it got us to the sea and an Airbnb then she didn’t much mind. Shit, that proper rhymed.
I chuckled at the thought as we finished loading the rest of our shit inside the caravan, earning myself a strange look off of Em. I flashed him a smile in turn, letting my eyes widen for a split second, “I’m a poet and I know it.”
He blinked at me, tossing his measly duffle in beside mine. “How the hell I got stuck with you, I don’t know.”
Wrinkling my nose in an attempt to dampen my grin, I tiptoed to wrap my arms around his neck, hauling him in closer. “You love it.” I teased, kissing him chastly and laughing before I released him from my capture.
He shook his head but I caught his eyes on me almost a dozen times before we finally managed to set off. I put it to the back of my mind figuring that the early hour was just messing with all of us.
I guessed that we all put a lot of faith in Danny when we eventually pulled out of the driveway. He’d insisted on driving the first stretch to keep himself occupied, long journeys reminding him too much of army life– “I’m meant to be on holiday!”– which meant that he’d be navigating most of the London traffic, something I was wary of seeing as he wasn’t the most qualified driver. Kid had had his license revoked three times already and had only got it back the last time ‘cause one of his officers had done him a favour.
Why, I don’t know.
Still, we’d relented easily enough once Tadgh had waved our worries off, claiming another one of the three front seats. Now, I’d let Tadgh drive my car a couple times since he’d been here and even sat passenger once, so I didn’t much mind this solution. For as much of a lunatic as he could tend to be, driving was the one place he was almost always stoically serious.
“And we’re off!” The Irishman called back to the rest of us as the engine clunked and we bounced over the outside curb.
Hearing a couple ‘oofs’, I cackled from where I’d stationed myself on the L shaped sofa, only a tiny wooden table to keep me from toppling out of it and Marshall’s steady hand.
His face was a right picture when I glanced over, his eyes round and lips pressed so tightly together that they were almost white.
“What a life of lavish you’ll be living!” I goaded jokingly, poking his side and flashing him a wide grin. I didn’t think I’d ever been so excited to travel, honestly. I did it most weeks, for hours, even days at a time, but this? This get out and go, free to drive wherever, do whatever, it was thrilling.
“You forget I was raised in one of these tin cans.” Em shot back at me, shaking his head when Danny sounded the horn and shouted something at a passing car.
I snorted to myself, before scooting closer over the bench to him and wiggling my eyebrows. “Did it have wheels though?”
Rolling his eyes, he shook his head, exasperated, but threw an arm over my shoulders anyway. “Saw ‘em one night when I was tinkering with my car. Had this thought of gettin’ rid of the bricks holdin’ the thing up and lowering it jus’ enough so that it’d slowly start to slip down the hill we were on.”
He was smirking, eyes distant as he thought back on the memory as though it was something fond, sending your family sailing off into their doom. It probably was, if our childhoods were anything alike. So I found myself smiling gently too, looping my fingers through the hand settled on my shoulder.
“You don’t speak much about it.”
Marshall looked over at me then, blinking, then he shrugged, “Not much to speak about.”
I kept my smile and let my features soften around it, squeezing his hand before I murmured quietly, “I’d like to hear it anyway. Whenever you’re ready.”
He kept watching me for a second longer before he dipped his head in an agreeing nod, looking away again probably in hopes to school the tiny smile that had worked its way onto his face. I grinned to myself then glanced back to where Lottie had since stationed herself on the bed in the very back, phone in hand.
“Oi, best make good on that Wifi, won’t be much signal soon!”
Lottie huffed in turn, looking a little frazzled at the reminder, “I know, I’m trying to figure out how to download this tv show!”
I snorted, shuffling further into Marshall’s side before the man turned around to face my sister too. “I got a load of crap loaded up on my laptop you can use.”
Lottie’s eyes bugged out for a split second as she leaned further forward, “Really?” She asked as though he might be playing some game.
Marshall shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Z usually uses it when she’s wit’ me, got this internet stick thing too. Make sure you don’ touch certain files and you can take it whenever.”
She stared back at him as though he were saving grace, her messiah.
“I won’t!” She assured him resolutely, before she leapt from the bed and all but winded him in an unexpected hug, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She forced out in one big breath, smiling madly as she pulled away and tugged her phone back out, “I’ve gotta let Tea and Shan know I won’t be totally off grid!”
With that, she spun back around, voice excited as she called one, or both, of her best mates. Em still looked a tad bit startled by the gesture, something which amused me to no end but didn’t surprise me. Ever since Lotts and I had– well, we hadn’t made up so much as break down and begin again… But still, ever since then Lottie had been all for getting to know Marshall and not just the rapper she’d idolised for as long as she’s lived.
It’d been really lovely, in all honesty. Sort of felt like karma too, seeing Marshall struggle in a way similar to the way I had upon first meeting his daughters.
“All good?” I asked him after a minute, smiling at him knowingly. He rolled his eyes when he caught sight of it, forcing my face away from his with a soft chuckle.
“That’s enough from you.” He retorted, shaking his head at me once before he shuffled around the table and out of the seat.
“Hey, where you going!” I laughed, reaching out after him playfully.
“As far away as I can get from them eyes.” Em answered, returning the sentiment when I decided to flip him off.
Rolling those apparent eyes, I watched as he made his way over to the front. He spoke to both Dan and T for a moment before Tadgh was laughing at something he’d said and jumped up to switch seats with him, even though there was more than enough room for the three of them.
I didn’t want to linger too long on it.
It was oddly shaped, the caravan– almost a motorhome/RV of sorts. It had the backroom where Lottie was still perched, which had a sliding door that was thin but kept things divided. Then right beside it was a long sort of cupboard that fit a single cot, a tiny wardrobe and a 24” tv on the wall– Lotts had automatically tossed her stuff in there without complaint then taken up residence on the bed Marshall and I were set to share. So there hadn’t been any arguments over who’d be getting it.
The kitchenette was stationed off to the side of that, it offered a counter space where a small sink could be covered and uncovered, a kettle and microwave which sat in the cupboard just above, beside which also stood a hidden hotplate that could be pulled out when needed, and then a fridge/freezer that had been tucked next to a portable bin beneath the countertop.
Then we got to the L shaped sofa, which also sufficed as a bed, turning into a pull out big enough for two army lads to share when we all eventually stopped for the night. The bathroom was just after that, with a semi-manageable shower and a loo that you had to change out when necessary. Honestly, it was so close to the steering wheel that I was a little fearful for whoever would be driving at the time someone happened to take the first plunge inside.
“That brain of yers ever stop tickin’?”
I startled at the sudden lapful of Tadgh that I’d gotten, reeling back a tad whilst the man just laughed and continued to crawl to climb past me. I huffed in return, shoving him off the rest of the way in retribution, “Yes, you twat. Couldn’t you have just asked me to move or gone ‘round the other side?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” T grinned broadly, settling nicely into the cushions beside me and using his palms to rest the back of his head.
“You just trade seats to annoy me then or?”
He rolled his eyes, albeit fondly, before turning his head my way, “Nae, jus’ figured I’d have Dannyboy over there show Marshall the ropes ‘fore he takes over. Yanks drive the other side o’ the road, don’ they.”
I hummed my assent, hardly having thought about it. “He’ll be fine. He’s a good driver, better than Dan by a mile at least.”
Tadgh snorted. “Le’s hope dat’s the truth.” He praised, before another breathy laugh escaped him, “He’s a good sort, him. Din’ know what ta make of the two of ye at first, you know.”
“What, Marshall?”
T hummed, letting his eyes slip close as he relaxed further.
“He’s feckin’ huge e’rywhere ‘in’t he? Figured all that fame and stuff had to get to ye head at some point. But nah, ye two are probably some of the best people I ever met.” He explained simply, as though his words had no effect on my little, old heart. “I mean, ye took me in without complaint. Din’ ask nothin’ even though ye shoulda. An’ he was the same way, treated me like one of his own jus’ ‘cause I was important to you, and you ‘cause I were important to Danny.”
I blinked back at him, vaguely stunned but mostly entirely too fond.
“Jus’ nice, is all. Ye know?”
I smiled and then fell into his side, wrapping my arm around his middle. “I know.” I assured him quietly, “And whatever happens with you and Danny, you’re always, always welcome wherever we are. You get me?”
I felt, more than heard him swallow around that piece of information before one of his arms slowly moved to hug me back, his next words were clipped but full of too many emotions to name when he finally spoke, it warmed my entire being. “Thank you.”
Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.
| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2
Notes: Long one this time around! Lots going on, lots of jumping between scenes! Starts off with an interview sort of vibe which is something I hope works the way I want it to, then shifts Pov!
Just some warnings: Mentions of body-image, mostly used in a joking manner. Also light talk of anxiety/heavy emotions that are felt. Think that's it but feel free to remind me if not:)
Eminem on New Single, Incoming Album and Career | Interview
– A Clip from The NY Tally. The later half of Eminem’s life has been greatly shaped by fame, but he has always remembered his roots and the struggles it took for him to get to where he is today. He’s grown to have become one of music's most iconic artists, changing the industry from the inside out and opening up doors for other rappers alike. In this interview, during his break between singles and in a home in London, he gets candid about what inspired his new album “Revival”, the people he has worked with, and the controversies he has faced in the press. He opens up about the complicated relationship he has with the limelight and his need to shield his family from it. Watch the full conversation here: ‘article.htpp//theinterviewMMrev’
I first spoke to Marshall a few weeks before we scheduled this interview.
Paul Rosenberg, the man’s manager, was the one I reached out to when I first heard about the second Eminem album that was set to be released a little over a year from the last– jumping nearly half a decade since the time “Recovery” was revealed back in 2010.
‘Why such a big time jump, why now?’ I kept wondering to myself once the news had finally died down.
Marshall’s troubled past wasn’t something that he had ever kept quiet, he had always been very vocal about his abuse of drugs and alcohol alike, whether it was hearing about it in his lyrics, his interviews or just on stage. But even so, after “Relapse” and “Recovery” it was difficult not to equate either of those things with most of his music, his lifestyle, and even harder not to look at him and question if he truly was staying sober, if rehabilitation had worked as well as he had claimed. Or if, like so many others in the industry, the man would eventually walk away from the limelight only to turn up on the front page of whatever newspaper first got their greedy hands on his eventual passing.
Morbid, I know. But far from unusual within this line of work.
Still, shifting over onto Marshall’s last album “Marshall Mathers LP 2”, a homage to his iconic 2000 record and himself, I don’t think it would be a lie to claim that it honestly was the last thing people expected to see from him. The first LP was and probably always will be his biggest album to date, it's widely considered his magnum opus and one of the greatest rap albums of all time. It's since sold 25 million copies worldwide, making it one of the best-selling albums ever, and is certified 12x platinum and Diamond by the RIAA.
I suppose looking back now, it shouldn’t have been as big of a surprise as it felt for Marshall to want to revisit those roots he’d created and experiment once again with what made his music so loved. Especially after focusing so hard on his health.
Even so, three years is a long time to wait for something new to be released after an album that was so commercially successful, yet Marshall still did it and shocked us all once more by dropping this second release only thirteen months after the fact.
“Revival”, it seems, is all anyone can talk about whenever the man’s name now gets brought up, conversation about what kind of music he might bring to the table this time around is all up in the air after the album’s first single was released just hours ago. ‘Walk on Water’ featuring singer/songwriter ELIA has shifted the dynamics in the man’s obvious sound and has since faced some critical reception– from the artist chosen to feature, down to the evident rage-spittle. A term that, yes, I really did have to look up.
I asked Marshall about this today and, although there was emotion within his words, he was very straight talking when it came down to what he thought about it all.
‘The song, it weren’t even written by me.’ He began, hands laying heavily in his lap, ‘Elia is such a credit to everybody around her, the woman burns with this raw sorta talent that even I struggle to understand– some people don’t see it, some get swept up in it. I, obviously, was the latter. She’s critical of herself to a fault, so the shit this song’s faced within the last day or two, it’s only fueled that. But in all honesty? She was the first one to mention gettin’ someone else on the track (Walk on Water) when we started working on it together, someone bigger who could do it “justice”.’ It appeared he didn’t much like that last word. ‘But from the day I first heard her? I knew that there wasn’t a chance in hell that I was ever lettin’ her get away without at least hearin’ her voice on a record. So that idea flew out the window real quick.’
‘There are so many other songs which feature a variety of artists on this particular album, why not use someone else for this single release and have her on another?’
He gave me quite the reaction when I asked this particular question and it was perfect timing too that our video call’s connection stuttered for a split-second to catch it before his features schooled out into his usual stoic expression again.
‘It was her song. It’s like askin’ the elves to let Santa Clause make up all the presents but not let him near the sleigh.’ He cursed here, quite brightly I might add, before he chuckled mostly to himself, ‘Sorry. Been spendin’ too much time with my kid. Holidays are comin’ up real soon and, well, it’s been a mess. Why I thought to release again in December, I’ll never know.’
Marshall, evidently, was sitting outside during our call, something which I drew attention to quite early on. But— ‘An’ you’re inside.’ Was the only reply I received to it, so, laughing softly I decided to try another angle, pondering on his whereabouts seeing as it was currently snowing rather heavily in Detroit.
‘I’d heard.’ He told me when I informed him of the weather, turning thoughtful as he did. ‘My daughter’s obsessed with it at the moment. Kid wants to go sledding when I get back and skate on the lake out by my brother’s house.’
‘You can skate?’
He scoffed at the very notion. ‘People gone start callin’ me Bambi either way, but I ain’t half bad on the ice.’
‘Just have to wait until you return to The States then to demonstrate that.’
Marshall, clever beyond just his smart rhymes, knew I’d yet to let my curiosity lie. ‘London ain’t half bad neither.’ He gave away, watching me carefully, ‘Ain’t no Costa Rica but the people here are alright.’
Now, London is quite the world away from Michigan. That much was obvious. But I had seen that he’d been spotted at a terminal in Heathrow the night before. Even so, Marshall had always been quite the homebody and although fond of the UK, it had never been a destination we’d expect to spot him in too frequently unless the man was touring. The information was peculiar, especially after having seen the recent headlines in the press.
‘London is the hometown of ELIA, is it not?’ I’d found myself asking him, rather bravely if I might admit, ‘After the latest snapshots of the two of you back in Detroit, you being there is all rather on the nose, if you don’t mind my saying.’
‘London’s a big place.’
Indeed it is, and Mr Mathers wasn’t the type to leave all his eggs to rot in one basket…
Knowing when to fold my hand though, I moved onto the gentle prodding of who else just might feature on this up and coming album of his–
–
Marshall’s POV:
“Hey, babe, all done?”
He hummed from where he had decided to half-melt into the garden bench, it was cushioned, comfy, and hidden beneath a sturdy gazebo at the far edge of the property. Elia’s brother had mentioned using it for the call when she had started up the conversation of getting everybody out of the house so that he’d have some semblance of peace.
He’d been wary at first: the wind, the cold, the fact that it very obviously wasn’t Detroit. But the corner was surrounded by a small forest full of trees and Danny, as well as the friend that had been staying with them, had even come out to start up the fire-pit for him, which seemed to stave away the frigid air.
They were a dynamic sort of pair, Danny and Tadgh, not the type of guys he usually gravitated towards, but Marshall liked them both all the same. And not just for the fact that they were family to his– girl?
He rubbed his eyes at the question which chose to bounce around in his head as he forced himself to sit up, blinking blearily at the sight he was then met with, El rounding the edge of the fire-pit with two steaming cups in hand.
His what, girlfriend? Was that where that thought had been headed?
God, he was way too old to be anyone’s fuckin’ boyfriend. Felt way too high school now– and shit, how was he forty-fuckin’-two still stressing over crap like this?
“Marsh?” She called out gently again, peering down at him with an unsure frown before she gestured softly towards the space beside him, the space where he had haphazardly chucked his laptop and the rest of his shit after the call had disconnected.
Blinking, he jumped to move it all down onto the sidetable about an arm's length away, not even second guessing the gesture as the woman in question handed him a mug of his own and settled quietly into his side. She was wearing tiny shorts, the type she liked to sleep or laze about in, but the scarf and heavy hoodie she’d thrown on seemed to keep out most of the cold. Still, he wrapped himself around her all the same.
“How’d it go?” She wondered after a moment had passed, sipping on her drink, an action that reminded him of his own. He sighed slightly at the taste, at how familiar it was now becoming.
Marshall shrugged lightly in reply, swallowing around his mouthful before he found his voice once again, “Fine. Guy was sharp, asked questions without really askin’ them.”
She merely laughed at that, blowing air out of her nose in that way that only she could. “Little like you then?”
He rolled his eyes, not deigning to comment on it.
She just smirked.
“So, Dan and T want to head out for food tonight. Figured I’d ask you though, but it would be around eight-ish and up in Mile End, so I doubt there’d be many people moochin’ about.” She told him, swiftly changing the subject as she so often tended to do. “Could show you some of my old stomping ground whilst we’re there, the restaurant sits beneath this old flat my mate used to rent.”
Looking out across the rest of the garden as she ventured on, he thought on it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go out, or not be able to see some of the parts that made her her but… There always had to be a fuckin’ but. And that call had proved as much. Those pap shots of him at the airport had said exactly that.
Even so, even after everything he’d gone through, not just with her but with every other woman before her, from his mother to his fucking ex wife, he still said, “Sounds good, baby.”
——
“How the heck di’ ye make her?” Tadgh asked over the plethora of food that had been ordered to the tiny booth we had ended up in. It was perched in the very back of this family run business that I used to frequent a ton as a teen, it hadn’t changed a bit, the faux-leather seats and peel-and-stick tiles were still exactly the same as I remembered them.
Marshall scowled across the table at the Irish man, scoffing as he playfully snatched back his phone, taking the most recent picture he had of Z with it. “Fuck you mean? She’s all me, that kid.”
I smiled around my straw at his words, taking another look at the photo. It must have been taken the day of the carnival, there were far too many colourful lights for it not to have been.
“Some angel up there must’a done somethin’ right by her, I swear ‘cause she had to h’ve been blessed to h’ve missed owt on inheritin’ that there nose o’ yers.” T continued teasingly, smirking all the while as Danny shook his head, trying desperately to dampen his own growing mirth.
Marshall retaliated by lobbing a half-eaten spring roll at the man’s head, though it didn’t seem to bother Tadgh none seeing as he popped it into his mouth the second it hit the table top. I grimaced to myself even as he and Em continued on with their little back and forth, bickering in a way I hadn’t seen from them before.
Looking over at Danny though, I wasn’t all that surprised to see the dopey grin that now overwhelmed his face, all gleaming eyes and pearly white teeth. I directed a raised brow his way when he caught me watching him.
He just frowned, tilting his head in a barely-there gesture to silently question me. It was a tad defensive, in truth, so I doubled up on the brows, pursing my lips slightly before I ultimately shrugged and went back to sipping at the milkshake Em and I had decided to share. Vanilla and honeycomb. An odd concoction for a Chinese restaurant to offer but lovely all the same.
I knew Dan like the back of my hand though, and so it didn’t take too long for the muppet to fall for my old tricks, kicking at the bone of my ankle to regather my supposedly ‘lost’ attention. He shot me a scathing look before he then frowned. ‘What?’ He mouthed after noting that the other two were still squabbling.
Again, I shrugged, letting my eyes trail over to Tadgh for a drawn out second before falling back on my brother once more. Danny’s stare didn’t dare falter, didn’t narrow nor widen. He simply watched me, waiting perhaps for another reaction to follow.
I watched him back.
I’d never been oblivious, purposefully obtuse, sure, but never oblivious. And I liked to believe that I knew my siblings better than I knew myself most days, so this, whatever was going on here, wasn’t something that I had never wondered over. It had simply just been a passing thought that had drifted in a handful of times whilst we’d been growing up.
In truth, once Danny had been shipped off with the army, the idea, or question really as it had been, hadn’t cropped up again.
Until now, I supposed. Until Tadgh.
Dan said nothing, he didn’t look sheepish nor concerned, just cool. Almost vacant.
My forehead pinched at the sight of it and I questioned over what he thought I might have reacted like. What I might have said if he had been the one to mention it, to actually bring it up. Though that was solely the reason why I’d chosen to drop a hint, knowing from odd snippets and close calls that my brother wouldn’t, if ever, just tell me.
And I knew why.
Still, I forced my shoulders to soften anyway, and for my brow to even out. Forgetting about the memories that came with the reminder. Then I smiled, knowing that as I did, it reached my eyes, then gently I knocked my knees against his own beneath the tabletop. And all I could think was ‘Look at us. Look at us now, who would have thought?’
And Dan, he finally smiled back at me, as though he could see all of the thoughts as they echoed around inside my head.
Look at us.
–
Ed Sheeran HQ @Edsheeran
Nov 03, 2014
“River with Eminem out friday x”
– Ed on instagram
–
It was odd.
Screaming, I had predicted. Tears even, were due to be a given.
But this? This silent staring match that we’d all been forced to watch? No, that had been the furthest idea from my mind.
Lottie. Yeah… I supposed that was all that needed to be said here. But, oh God, was it hilariously terrifying just how rapidly her demeanour had shifted. One second she’d been waltzing in through the front door with her usual smile, duffle slung over one shoulder and hair sodden from the sudden downpour we’d just been hit with, and the next her duffle had hit the floor with a resounding thud and her bright eyes had widened beyond measure.
I’d heard her arrival, caught up in the kitchen and putting what was left of our dinner away, whilst Danny and Tadgh had headed up stairs the second we’d gotten in from the restaurant. I’d not thought much of the front door opening in truth, there was more than just me here at the minute so the sound hadn’t stuck out to me. Marshall’s dumbfounded “Uh..” on the other hand, had.
Frowning, I’d grabbed the closest tea towel to me and wiped my hands free of the sauce that had escaped the container as I let the fridge rattle shut behind me, moving towards the sound.
“Marsh?” I called out, briefly wondering if T was walking around stark-bollock naked again before I rounded the nearest corner and paused.
It was an odd sight, Marshall stood just past the entryway to the living room, spoonful of the ice-cream we’d picked up on the way back halfway to his lips and glasses sloping down the bridge of his nose whilst my sister appeared to have stopped breathing altogether.
I mimicked Em’s earlier sound, if only to myself, stuck in this stalemate that had since been created and panicking over who would move first. Before a resounding thud of footsteps came barreling down the staircase, a matching set of laughter trailing along with it.
“Oh shit, Lotts! What you doin’ here, mate?” Danny all but beamed the second he caught sight of his little sister, leaping off the third bottom step and onto the hallway rug in a fluid movement which spoke much to his height.
It was the one-armed hug he then roped her into which set her back into motion– or, you know, forced the air back into her lungs… either or.
“What the fuck.” We all heard Lottie then mutter, wide eyes still aimed over Danny’s shoulder even as she found the strength to haphazardly wrap her arm back around his middle in return. It was only as he moved to pull away that she repeated her sentiment, which set off something akin to a chain reaction.
Tadgh moved first, peering over the banister’s railing to see what had her acting so strange, his face shifting swiftly into an expression that could have only rivalled a little kid at Christmas when he saw Marshall frozen there.
Danny was next, turning wildly to follow her attention. His mouth opened then snapped closed just as quickly, which in turn forced an ugly snort to escape him.
Me, well I decided to take a singular step closer. And as I did, Marshall’s head snapped over towards me, his face as impassive as always to everybody else, but I could see the slight hint of fear which shone in his eyes, which in itself had me pausing, wondering why, of all the emotions, fear would factor in here. Lotts was a mega-fan, yeah, but she wasn’t about to keep his beard clippings in a baggy or, I don’t know, count the fucking freckles on his left leg to sell to the highest bidder.
Deciding to shelf that for now, I let my stare flicker over to my sister again, who was now sporting the most sheepish grin I’d ever seen her bare.
I honestly had to blink at the sight, even as I threw the tea towel over my right shoulder and moved towards her.
Though it was then that a whole new revelation took over me, a realisation hitting me at full force like a bullet train on its track.
“Hang on– Firstly, how the hell did you get here? You’re soddin’ soaked to the bone. And two, why didn’t you, I don’t know, Lottie! Ring me, or at least text Danny or something? I could have come and gotten you, I could have sent a car! Would’ve saved you a walk in the rain!” I exclaimed, not paying any note to the way Danny winced theatrically and slid away to jokingly escape into T’s side. “What if I’d been out, what would you have done then?”
It seemed to be my words which appeared to spark Lottie back into fifth gear though, because as soon as I was a breadth away from her, her face morphed into something pinched and she accompanied the eyeroll she gifted me with a very hearty huff– a true embodiment of The Angsty-teen™.
“Jesus, I got the train! It wasn’t even rainin’ when I left either, I was fine.” Lottie defended herself, scoffing loudly before she shook her head in a gesture that was more mocking than annoyed. “You’d’ve thought I’d never done it before!” Laughter littered her voice.
“Yeah,” I shot back, almost mystified by her utter lack of self-preservation. “But it’s almost half eleven at night, for God’s sake. The last train might have gotten you here, but you’re fourteen, Lotts! Do you not know who could’ve been out there lurking? Just waiting for someone like you to–”
“Someone like me? Oh I get it, wow. But honestly, overreact much?” Lottie snarked right back at me, earning a low mutter of oo’s to sound from the two idiots standing just behind her. Both of which I shot the dirtiest look I could muster, pointing Danny an expression that said ‘Really?’ whilst I was at it. Honestly, was I the only adult around here?
“Overreact? Lottie–”
I was cut off before I could even get started in truth, “Don’t, Lia. Seriously, I was fine. I am fine. I don’t need you babying me constantly. I do it all the time and nothin’ ever happens because, unlike you, I know I’m not an idiot.”
“All the time?” I spluttered, a little breathless at the very idea of it. “When? No, wait– hang on, where are you goin’ at almost midnight anyway? Whenever you’re here you barely leave the house!”
“But I haven’t been here, have I? Mum and Dad let me stay out as late as I want, say I’m old enough. And even when I do, I’m only ever goin’ to Shan’s!” She spat back at me, truly believing that she was making perfect sense here, when in reality it didn’t seem to add up to anyone but herself and the two idiots I’d actually been naive enough to let look after her. “I wasn’t out clubbin’ underage, or sellin’ shit down by the canals like some people. Yeah, I know all about that.” She added simply because she could, smiling spitefully now at the look of pure horror which then crossed my face.
“How? Who told you that crap?” I gaped, suddenly baffled, no, bewildered by the fact that she somehow knew anything of the sort about my past, the only people who could have known were– My face fell and an icy chill rippled over me. “What the hell has he been tellin’ you? I knew this would be a bad idea, I knew that it would all go up in flames! But no, I was being the bigger person, you wanted to get to know him, to understand! And of course, of fucking course, he’d only try to shit all over me!”
I laughed, a little hysterically. Utterly and entirely overwhelmed. Then I shook my head, disbelieving. “Wow, you’d have thought fifteen years would alter something!”
“He said you’d do this!” Lottie answered me scathingly, looking every inch of our mother as she scowled back at me. “He said you’d try and turn this all on him! That you’d hate me having him around!”
“Hang on, Lotts..” Danny tried to step in then, his face a right old picture. Only now deeming it the time to stop the pair of us. But Lottie was having none of it, shrugging off the hand that came to rest on her shoulder.
“Turn this on him?” I spluttered, angry and tired and hurt now. I’d known it, I’d known her getting to meet the man that still called himself her ‘Dad’ even after having spent her entire childhood locked up in prison would only end in tears. I’d just figured that it wouldn’t have been me in the firing line this time, that this time around if anything was set to happen that I would be the one to shield, to protect.
Because there hadn’t been anyone there to do it for me.
Suddenly it all felt like too much.
I didn’t have the energy any longer as I shuttered before them all, memories upon memories that I thought I had dealt with flooding back to the forefront of my mind. Flashing back and forth, then left and right.
“I was just worried, Lottie.” I heard myself say after a long drawn out pause, voice suddenly so much quieter than it previously had been, abruptly feeling as though I no longer had any real control of my body. “I just want you safe. I–”
I didn't even get to finish whatever sentence I was going to say next because Lottie was shaking her head before I even could, turning her back on me so that she could swipe her duffle up off the floor and shove past Danny to get to the stairs. “Whatever. I don’t want to hear it, I’m going to bed.”
The silence which followed in her wake was deafening and I didn’t have the heart to try and say much else on the subject, let alone look the rest of them in the eye. But, I did it anyway. Because that was who I was. Laughing lightly to myself in that self-depreciating way as I peered between them all, shrugging as I simply said, “Teenagers.. What’re you gonna do with ‘em."
I blew out a breath, grabbing the tea towel to have something to fiddle with before my legs decided to head back in the direction of the kitchen, “Reckon I’ma head up too anyway, it’s late. Ain’t it? Got shit to do tomorrow, too. You lot keep it down, yeah?” I directed the latter of that sentence towards Dan and T, who only blinked in surprise before hastily nodding at me.
“Yeah, sure.”
“‘Course, El.”
I dipped my chin at them both, avoiding Marshall’s heavy gaze as I stepped past him and made for the opposite direction from the front door.
I decided to get started on what little remained in the sink when he followed after me, his socked feet padding over the cold tiles beneath us as he came to a pause not too far away. Neither one of us said a word, simply let the clatter of soapy cutlery echo around the space until there was nothing left to clean. He stood there, waiting. Hands stuffed in the pockets of his trackies, no hat in sight.
I sniffed as I dried my hands, not due to tears but just to cover up the way I then coughed to try and dislodge the lump in my throat. “Sorry about before.” I mentioned after a moment had passed, commenting on it like someone would the weather as I chucked the tea towel down onto the counter without much fanfare.
Marshall didn’t say anything in retort to that though and so it forced my gaze back up and over to him, to where he still stood, watching me. My heart warmed at the sight of the metal frames he had yet to take off, at how they sloped down his nose to reveal the blue of his eyes. I knew he was only wearing them because of the headache that had started acting up on the drive back, but I loved the sight all the same. Enough that I didn’t think much of trailing closer to loop my arms around his neck.
He dipped his chin to brush his forehead against my own, pursing his mouth in jest, top lip brushing the tip of his nose in hopes to cheer me up. I smiled at it, the expression squinting my eyes as I looked up into his.
“How you doin’?” He asked after a breath passed between us, his hands finding purchase on my waist. We both knew he wasn’t really asking though, he knew how I felt, was just prompting me to talk.
Still, I shrugged all the same. Letting my gaze flicker downwards for that of a split second.
I didn’t want to think much on the argument. On the thoughts that were now eating me up.
So instead I smiled again and let my hand slip downwards to encase his own. I said nothing as we turned and he let me lead the way, soundless as we wandered through the rest of the house, flicking off the lights in rooms we passed before he was shutting my bedroom door behind us.
We went through the cycle of getting ready for bed in that same silence, a quiet that was only ever broken briefly by the low hum Marshall made whenever he moved between the room and the ensuite.
When we eventually wound up in bed, he just held me. And in all honesty, in that moment, it really did feel as though he was piecing me together, pressing every crack in which I was made up of against another in hopes that he wouldn’t shatter me any further.
I had to hope that he wouldn’t either.
…
Morning came with the break of day during a moment where time didn’t feel like it had much meaning. Although we had an early start, the alarm wasn’t set to go off for a while longer, and so I laid there for a short time, simply watching the sunlight stream in through a gap in the curtains and listening to Em’s quiet huffs.
I’d missed sleeping next to him. Next to his too warm feet and too cold hands. To his nose at my neck and the softness which often tended to overwhelm his features.
The rest of the house was quiet, almost eerily so. Usually that in itself wouldn’t bother me much, typically up and at ‘em only minutes after I’d gone and opened my eyes, but today it irked me. But I supposed that was simply down to the fact that everything felt a little too much this morning.
And although I was wide awake, all I really wanted was to fall back to sleep.
It was then, as though he knew what I’d been thinking, that Marshall smacked his lips, nose scrunching in a way that wrinkled his face further as he pressed it against the pillow. “‘S time?”
Hiding a smile, I turned back towards the ceiling. “You got a little while.”
He sniffed, shuffling further into my side and throwing a hand over my hip, “‘An you ‘wake?”
“Only been up for a little bit.” I told him, reaching out to trail my fingers over his forearm. If I didn’t think too much about it, I could almost remember where his tattoos started and stopped.
Marshall simply hummed, lips brushing against the curve of my shoulder. It felt easier then in that moment. The day.
I let him continue with it, kissing up my neck. I turned my head just enough so that he could nudge my jaw, fingers caressing my side.
“I ever tell you ‘bout the time I used to live in this shithole lil apartment over in Warren?” Marshall murmured, surprising me a tad even as he pressed another lasting kiss into the hollow skin just beneath my ear.
I thought on his question, eyes falling shut before I eventually shook my head.
He hummed, figuring as much, I supposed.
“Used to live there with a friend and his girl. She was, I don’t know, a waitress or some shit, used to work weird hours.” He continued on, eyes fluttering as he spoke, “But e’ry time I’d come home late, she’d kick up a fuckin’ storm. Din’ matter if she started blowdryin’ her hair at 4am or wanted to blend her shitty fuckin’ smoothies at night. Anythin’ I did, it pissed her off.”
My brow pinched, wondering where he was going with this story but more than content to merely listen. It was one of my favourite pastimes, hearing him talk. Even more so when he told me things about himself.
“Anyway, I could only afford this twin mattress, you know. Tiny two bedroom apartment above this crappy deli that had you shittin’ for days if you ever ate there and had walls so paper thin you only had to breathe to hear ‘em creak.” He went on, fingertips still drawing away on the skin of my waist. “So whenever I moved or turned over, even in my sleep, she’d start fuckin’ bangin’ on the wall, right? Enough so that one day– no word of a lie– she put her fuckin’ fist straight through it.”
I snorted, punching a breath out through my nose before I shook my head at the picture he had painted for me.
He was smiling too, I could tell without even having to look.
“So,” He continued on, dragging that first word out, “‘Cause we ain’t have the money to fix that shit up, it kept growin’. To the point where it probably could’a been a door.”
“You didn’t even put up like a blanket?” I asked him, thinking back to the time I’d separated the cupboard sized bedroom I’d shared with Danny as kids with nothing but a sheet and a bit of desperate hope.
Marshall shook his head, “Nah, I didn’t, mostly ‘cause I knew it pissed her off so much. To the point where they stopped havin’ sex ‘cause she’d hear me e’ry time I laughed at her wailing.”
I couldn’t contain my grin at that, tongue caught between my teeth as I bit back my laughter.
“Yeah, pornstars had nothin’ on her.” He chuckled too, before eventually moving on. “Anyway, this sort of reminds me of that.”
I smacked his wrist, shoving him away slightly as I turned to better face him. “Oi, how the fuck does this compare to that, you idiot?”
He just smirked back at me though, tiredly rolling his eyes. “Jus’ in the way that the sunlight creeps in, dummy.” He answered me, “Hole in the wall would cast these sunbeams out over the length of my room each morning, ‘n I jus’ remember gettin’ lost watchin’ them.”
It was then that I shifted on my pillow just enough for the warmth of another sunbeam, one of our own this time, to stretch across my face. My eyes wrinkled at the sudden brightness but Marshall locked onto it, watchful and almost mesmerised.
I swallowed at the sight of it, before my breath hitched when his hand reached up to swoop along the visible edge of the yellowed beam.
“It’s weird sometimes.” He murmured to me softly, eyes flicking back and forth between mine. “Feels like a lifetime ago, like somebody else lived it.”
That I could understand.
I reached up to take hold of his wrist, bringing his hand down to link with mine over my chest. “You ever miss it?” I wondered out loud.
He blinked back at me and I knew he was mulling the question over, even though we both knew that we’d thought about it one too many times to count over the years. “I do. But I wouldn’t go back. E’rything would be too different.”
His phone buzzed then, the alarm going off. He reached for it with a sigh but turned it off before bringing it back to settle between us.
“Z texted, asked if we’d call her again today.” He revealed to me as he looked it over, ”She wants your opinion on– the fuck even is that?”
I peered at the screen, then chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain later.”
Marshall rolled his eyes, but let it lie, scrolling through the rest of his notifications, tilting the phone so that I could see too. I liked that he did that, and I knew it wasn’t due to the fact that he wanted to prove he had nothing to hide. It was more down to him wanting to share this time together, because if we were just going to lie here then I knew that he would feel like he was leaving me out or being rude simply by ignoring me in favour of it.
There wasn’t much to view in truth, so I bullied him into showing me his camera roll, wanting to see what I’d missed out on since I’d been in London. There were a few pictures to see; some of the barbecue that I’d missed (Marshall caught beneath an armful of kids and Z running around a yard set), two within the diner (Marcie’s red lipped smile as well as a monstrous ice-cream sundae), and a couple at the ‘grocery’ store (“It’s a supermarket, babe.” “The fuck it is.”).
He kept scrolling until we started to reach the night before I’d left. He swiped once more before hastily swiping back, deciding then to switch the entire thing off a little too quickly. “Ain’t miss much.” He felt the need to add.
“Hold on,” I said, pausing and pursing my lips in suspicion, “Go back, what was that last one?”
Marshall hummed, but didn’t reopen his phone. “Nothin’, jus’ another picture at the house.”
I narrowed my stare. “Let’s see it then.”
Reaching out to grab a hold of the phone, Em quickly rolled over to move it out of the way before peering back at me with his baby blue eyes, attempting to feign a look of innocence though he was being entirely too transparent.
“Marshall, come on.” I laughed, reaching out once more. “Just lemme see!”
He shook his head, tucking the thing under his arse as though that would provide an extra barrier. There were no realms I wouldn’t attempt to breach.
“Come on, you twat!”
“No.” He huffed, mouth quivering in his attempt to keep from smiling. “You’ll get all pissy.”
I had to roll my eyes. “Fuck off, why would I get pissy, you numpty? What did you do?” I pressed, needing to know now.
Marshall did laugh then as I jumped across him to make a grab for his mobile, one hand pinching his side whilst the other slid beneath his bum. “Nothin’! Christ, you’re relentless.” He forced out, grappling for the phone I now held before I launched myself back onto my side of the bed, opening it up to swipe back to the picture in question.
I blinked at what I was met with. Then I gaped a tad.
It was me. Alright, in actual fact it was a lot of me.
My eyes flicked up to read his expression, but he was as stoic as ever, the only tell hiding behind his weighted stare. Waiting.
“Why?!” I finally had to ask him, titling my head ever so slightly to get a better look at the dark picture I was looking at. It wasn’t grainy or anything, just pictured from enough of a distance that the light played into things. In all honesty, it was almost a tad bit artsy. Still, the question stood! “Of all the things you could’ve snapped, my arse was it?” I asked him, looking at a silhouette of myself from behind.
It had been taken back in Detroit, in Marshall’s bedroom. And from the looks of it, he had to have been laying in bed when he’d taken it because it was a shot that stretched from the edge of the duvet, across the floor and into the ensuite where I was stood naked and stretching to turn on the showerhead.
Marshall snorted at whatever face I had to have pulled but when I glanced up he was blinking back at me, the picture of complete morality.
I quirked a brow.
“Jus’ liked the view, baby.” He attempted to sweet talk me, lifting his arms to rest behind his head. My eyes caught on the bulge of his bicep, but I didn’t let it deter me. “You were leavin’. Wanted to be able to see you whenever I wanted.”
“But–” I spluttered, looking back at the image again. “You couldn’t have asked? I could’ve posed or some shit! This is– it’s so bad, Marsh!”
He rolled his eyes at my words, but I had to press on, eyes only widening the more I took it in. “I thought it was a soddin’ picture of the moon at first glance! That’s why I thought it was so weird you didn’t wanna show me! Just— Jesus, Marshall…”
“The moon.” He scoffed, though he was blatantly laughing now. Entirely unphased by my fretting, in actual fact he was way too fucking amused. “The fuck you talkin’ about? You look insane, baby.”
“Don’t baby me, arsehole. It’s insane, yeah. Hugely insane, why the fuck does it look like that? I mean, it’s gigantic, Marshall! Not even squats will fix that. Just make it worse, I reckon.” I complained, huffing at it. Had it always looked like that? “I swear on my life, I’m never gettin’ fuckin’ starkers again. You wanna fuck? Best get used to home-made shorts, mate. There’ll be one hole and that’s that.”
Marshall flat out cackled at that, wheezed a tad even.
I merely groaned, dropped the phone onto his chest and then rolled over to shove my face into my pillow.
I’d have to look through every photo ever taken of me from behind on the car ride to this incoming interview now. Better yet, I’d have to try and talk Lottie into being my mate again simply so that I could ask her if my arse was really that huge. Maybe T would be down for it if she was still being a mare.
A gentle hand caressed the back of my head then, but even with the soft gesture I could still feel him chuckling away at my reaction. “It’s not fuckin’ gigantic, don’t be an idiot. Honestly, what shit you been takin’? It’s perfect, a real handful.” He added just as he reached down to squeeze my arse, the absolute bastard.
I swatted his hand away and lifted my head to groan once more, entirely unhappy with this whole situation. “I hate you.”
“Nah, you don’t.” He grinned so cocksure of himself.
I rolled my eyes, batting him away once more when he grazed a hand over my leg. “I can’t believe I have a fat arse. Someone please inform the papers! They’ll have a fucking field day with this.”
I then resorted to throwing the pillow back over my head, hoping it would end things for me quickly. Suffocation seemed like the best case scenario in all due course.
Em was no help at all, giggling away like a schoolgirl at her first sleepover, I swear he might have had actual tears forming in his eyes when he managed to drag the pillow away from me. I frowned, all but pouting at him now.
“Honestly, ‘m in pain.” He blew out, holding his sides as I huffed. “My fuckin’ stomach hurts, I can’t breathe.”
“Fuck off!”
“I think I’ma piss myself, I swear.” Marshall muttered back to me, wiping at his eyes. “There’s something wrong wit you, yeah. But it ain’t your ass, you fuckin’ dummy.”
I shoved at him, but he was honestly laughing so hard that he somehow ended up toppling over the duvet he’d managed to pool around his waist. My eyes went wide just as I saw his expression change to one of shock, startled by the sudden realisation of what was about to come, before he fell right off the bed and onto the floor.
It was silent for a long second, enough that I crawled closer to peer over the edge. A tad concerned, at least until I caught the way Marshall was now silently snickering, pooled in a bundle of sheets. I glared, then chucked the nearest pillow at him. “You can sleep down there from now on. Seeing as I’ll need what space I can muster up for my massive fucking arse!”
Marshall actually hiccuped at that, clutching at his stomach now.
I went to bitch at him some more, but it was then that a loud knock reverberated through the room and I turned my head over to where a voice called out past my bedroom door, “The feck are yous two doin’! It ain’t even six am, ye daft twats!”
It was that which set Em off again, and I couldn’t stop myself from snickering away either.
Truly, I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so carefree. It was a marvelling sight.
“Fuck off, Tadgh!” I called out, smirking now as I sat back up on the mattress.
“Aye, I would, but from the sounds of it ye two seem to be doin’ all the fuckin’!” T shot back at me, only retreating from the door when the water bottle I threw rattled its hinges. “Jesus wept– Dan yer sister’s bein’ violent again!”
Rolling my eyes at the idiot, I could only sigh to myself before I let my gaze flick away from where the clock sat over to where Marshall was starting to pull himself back together.
“You should laugh like that more often, you know. Takes years off you.” I teased, body bouncing slightly when he threw himself back onto the mountain of pillows, flicking me as he went in retribution. “Should start gettin’ ready now too if you don’t wanna be any later than we already are.”
Em didn’t seem to care much though, melting into the mattress once more as his eyes slipped shut and his hands came to rest over his middle. My stare only seemed to catch on the stupid smile he still wore though. “Five minutes and I swear I’ll move.” He promised me, doing nothing to dim the persistent chuckles that quietly wracked through him every few seconds.
“Old age really getting to you?” I asked, poking his side childishly.
He cracked open a single eye to glance my way, “Careful, you ain’t too far behind me.”
I hummed, neither confirming nor denying the words, then moved to stand from the bed.
Marshall, on the other hand, appeared content enough to simply watch me as I went, picking out something to wear for the day, as well as whatever else I needed before I trailed my way over to the ensuite. It was only when I reached the doorway that I paused though, casting a chance glance over my shoulder, “You comin’ or not? I don’t want another repeat of that picture happenin’.”
His brows rose in reply before he moved to prop himself up on his elbows. “An invitation, for lil old me?” He taunted, words curling around a smug smile. It was only when I flattened my expression, done with waiting, that he jumped up to join, reaching out for me as he approached, a manoeuvre I laughed at as I ducked back behind the door.
“Wash my hair and I'll think about turning this into a show.”
Marshall whistled. “Sign me up.”
–
It wasn’t too long a drive, for London at least. Even Marshall, usually so intent on carting us around simply for something to keep him occupied, wasn’t all that fussed this morning, sat in the backseat of the black car Mila had sent.
Everyone quickly learned one way or another that London was always up and down whenever it came to timing– and not just the weather– you could be stuck on an A road for half the morning some days, or you could get lucky and make it from Hackney to Fulham in just over an hour.
Today seemed to cater towards the latter. Even if I was a bouncing ball brimming with uncontained anxiety.
I knew it was mostly down to the weird evening we’d had, my argument with Lottie, not being able to see her before we’d had to leave, but the thought of what today would bring wasn’t making it any easier.
Interviews typically aggravated my nerves. I could sing to a crowd of blurred faces under bright lights and not bat an eye, but talking to people? Having to be so careful of what I say and wary of how things could come across… Yeah, it set my teeth on edge like fuck all else.
This interview though was different. Simply because it was with Marshall. The two of us.
Like an interview, with just me and him.
Are you getting that? Just us. And an interviewer. And–
Fucking hell, I was proper shitting bricks about it.
I’d been incessant in the way I’d chosen to cope, finger tap-tap-tapping away on the centre console enough that our driver had politely wound the divider back up to offer us a semblance of privacy. I knew it was just driving him mental though. I reckoned it would have annoyed Marshall too, if the man hadn’t been so absorbed in the conversation he’d been having with Paul.
Though, I supposed I’d gone and spoken too soon, because no sooner than I’d thought it had Em moved to lay his hand over mine, linking our fingers and stilling the jittery joint altogether.
My head simultaneously moved to find him, but his stare was still captured by the passing city outside, humming to something Paul said before humming once again and then answering him.
I let my eyes slip close, slumping further into my seat so that I could better rest my head, and then simply tried to breathe through the many emotions. Ultimately, I understood that it was stupid of me to let myself get so worked up but I couldn’t quite control it.
Everything just felt too much and I knew that a lot was riding on this interview. Marshall had some diehard fans and that in itself would bring in a whole new crowd that was unfamiliar to me. I didn’t want to fuck it all up, or make any of the opinions the song had gone and garnered worse.
“Hm, uh-huh. Yeah, Paul. Yeah, I get it, man.” Marshall murmured, thumb gently brushing over the outer side of my pinky. “Sure, I’ll send another email about it. Just make sure it gets done in time. Alright, man. Yeah, I appreciate it. Ok, talk later.”
It was with that in which he hung up.
“Everything alright?” I asked, blinking over at him again.
He hummed, tucking the phone away before he angled his body in my direction. “You good?” He then wondered in turn, tugging on our paired hands to settle them both over his left thigh, his eyes finding mine, “Been weird since ‘fore we left.”
Smiling meekly, I blew out a large breath. “Just nervous.” I revealed, not wanting to delve too deeply into everything else, Marshall seemed to somehow sense that though because he simply nodded, taking it on the chin like he did most things.
It was just as we rounded the next street corner, tower blocks following one after the other now, that he reached over with his free hand to undo my seatbelt and jutted his head in a motion that gestured me closer.
I shuffled into the middle seat without another word said, tension slowly ebbing from my shoulders as I settled into his side. I felt my eyes close as he pressed a chaste kiss to the side of my head, continuing to hold my hand.
“It’ll all be fine. If anythin’ goes wrong, or you feel like crap? Just defer to me.” He murmured lowly, squeezing my hand as he did, “Mess up? Blame me. Can’t answer somethin’? Blame me. Shit yourself? Blame me.”
I chuckled to myself at that last bit, wearing a genuine smile now. “Will make sure to remember that.”
“Make sure you do.” Em cracked a small smile too, looking back at me with a soft sort of look that I couldn’t quite get enough of. “Last night on your mind?” He then questioned, catching me a tad off guard, but the soothing brush of his hand only had me blowing out another weighted breath.
I nodded silently, casting my eyes out towards the window. “Just, I don’t know… Hate to leave things like I did.”
He emitted a low hum, “You fight like that often?”
Frowning, I shook my head. “No, hardly ever. I–” I paused, debating on it, thinking back on everything that had been said between us, “I just think it’s me, being away and stuff. Leaving her at mums.”
“You leave her longer on tour though, no?” Marshall’s question wasn’t accusatory, far from it, just prodding.
I chewed on my lower lip all the same, “I mean, yeah, but–”
“Her dad’s never been there.”
I swallowed thickly at the way he’d finished my sentence, struggling with the fact that he’d read me so easily.
“Yeah.”
He stayed quiet for a short while after that, long enough that I figured we’d keep at it until we arrived but, like most things with Marshall, I was often surprised. “There’s a story there, right? ‘Tween you and him.”
The wind was sort of knocked out of my lungs but I found myself nodding anyway, eyes starting to sting. “Yeah,” I choked out, “Yeah there is.”
Marshall’s hold on my hand tightened by a fraction but he didn’t press any further, simply let me put myself back together, a much needed anchor in a suddenly stormy sea.
I breathed my way through it, though I couldn’t quite escape the flashbacks I kept having of last night. Of what Lottie had said. Of Danny trying to intervene. Of what I had done.
I wet my lip before I eventually glanced back over to Em, who’d been happy enough just looking out the window again. I opened my mouth, but then closed it whilst I tried to think over how to ask my next question.
He must have heard the many cogs turning in my mind though because he glanced back at me, perplexed.
I stared for a beat longer, then just said, “You were scared.”
A frown etched itself onto his face, more confused than I’d seen him so I hurried to explain, almost stumbling over the words to do so.
“Last night. Before everything happened,” I tried, brows pinching as my free hand came up to haphazardly flap between us, “You looked– You just had this weird look in your eyes, you know, when Lotts came in.”
A flash of understanding crossed his face and then he nodded once. “Oh, you mean when she first saw me?”
I nodded hurriedly, “Yeah.”
He rubbed at the tip of his nose before a small, though tender, smile twitched at his lips. “Wasn’t like what you were thinkin’. I weren’t scared she was gonna go crazy after seein’ me or some shit.”
My mouth tugged upwards, understanding what he’d meant.
“Nah, just. I don’t know. Didn’t want to fuck it up, I guess. Felt like I already had when she first saw me and I sort of froze.” He pushed the air out of his mouth at that, an abashed sort of sound, then continued on, “Felt real stupid when you came out, started thinkin’ that I’d gone and fucked it up somehow. I know how much she means to you, ‘nd well, I just didn’t want to ruin what we got goin’ on ‘cause I was an idiot who forgot how to say hi.”
My smile at that moment was so doting, chest almost hurting at the notion of him wanting his meeting of my little sister to be more than perfect. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to run my fingers over his temple and cheek, pausing at the dimple right by his mouth.
“You’re–” I shook my head, unable to find the right word to describe him.
“Stupid?” He attempted to fill in the blank and so I rolled my eyes, shucking his chin with hardly any force at all. “Dumb? A fuckin’ mess?” He carried on, smile growing now.
I had to shake my head once more, capturing his chin between my fingers to keep him from letting his head bridge the gap between us any further. “Amazing.” I answered, eyes jumping between his own.
I really wanted to kiss him then, so I wasn’t all that surprised when he ended up stealing my idea, capturing my wrist with his free hand so he could close the distance and lean in.
“You’re so full of shit.” He chuckled airily against my lips, but it was too late, I had already felt his grin. He couldn’t fool me.
Marshall bopped his head along to the words which flowed through the studio’s speakers, pen tapping away against the metal grating of the desk.
They’d been at it for a while now, Z had gone to bed hours ago and it was quickly reaching the early hours of the morning, though it was hard to tell what with being confined to the bunker of a room. Still, if he had to hazard a guess, he’d say it was closer to three than four. Yet here they were, still going strong.
“But I ain’t–”
It was only when the instrumental they’d been tinkering with continued on without the rest of the chorus and a too loud huff blew through the mic that he glanced back up, brows furrowing at the sight of Elia tugging the headphones off her head.
He rolled closer to the decks, reaching out to press at one of the mixer’s many buttons. “Yo, you good?”
Her eyes found his through the thick sheet of glass just as she shoved the headset back onto the mic stand, clearly agitated about something or other. Marshall briefly wondered what he’d missed.
His question went unanswered though and instead he watched on as the booth’s door flew open, rattling against the far wall to give the woman room to storm her way over to the couch before she practically threw herself down onto the damn thing. He blinked slowly, dropping the pen he’d held before he eventually turned in his chair to get a better look at her.
In all the time they’d known one another, Marshall had figured that by now he had to have been witness to most, if not all, of the woman’s many moods. Reactions, even. But this here was different. Something other. Dissimilar to the anger and irritation she’d shown him earlier in the week, when he’d supposedly been messing with her head.
He had. Just hadn’t realised how much, is all.
It had been a weird fucking run for him too, fucking emotions always did him over in the end.
But no, this was… well, frustration at its finest. The type that had you questioning your own worth, pulling out your hair, or boarding the quickest train to shot city. He’d been there. Hell, hadn’t everybody? But he also had no fucking clue as to why she was being so temperamental over this one song. Why she suddenly felt that every take they’d tried wasn’t right.
Maybe he was being biased, but he hadn’t heard a single note go pitchy, her tone fall flat, or her even miss a word in all the time they’d spent tryna record this shit. So it baffled him, you see. To watch her blow up over practically nothing. To give up at the first hurdle when earlier she’d been flying towards it, excited to trample that finish line ahead.
Eventually, he let himself lean forward in his seat, blowing out a quiet breath, as watchful as ever. He couldn’t lie to himself, he was at an impasse here, unsure. He didn’t wanna push her. Didn’t want to overstep. Not where she was concerned. Not when they’d finally gotten to this sweet spot. To this one place where they were more than just testing the waters.
Usually at this point with anyone, he’d have had them in his bed by now, up against the shower wall, or in the backseat of his car at the very least. But this– this whole fucking thing, this situation, messed with his head, had him second guessing every damn thing. His each and every move.
Stupidly, it was only then that he realised he hadn’t wanted to give himself the chance to fuck up any more than he already had. He was treading carefully here, with her. He wanted more. He wanted–
Marshall shook his head, hating the way his thoughts could so often overwhelm him, swallow him whole and encase his mind. His fists clenched in his lap before he settled his forearms more openly on his thighs, taking another breath and letting it go.
“Baby.” He called, voice not quite soft but deliberately muted now, wary about his footing as he tried to work out where he stood within the metaphorical minefield they’d apparently stumbled into.
She didn’t deign him with a reply, arm flailed out over her face, hair sprawled across and over the back of the leather couch. He sighed and pushed himself to his feet, spinning the cap he wore backwards so that he could try and make out her face better the closer he grew.
The tap he gave her leg when he bent to take a seat beside her on the cushions was gentle, patient. An action he only ever typically used with his daughter, but found better suited this situation as well. He wet his lower lip, hand still for a long moment before it engulfed the majority of her knee, squeezing comfortingly before it slid an inch higher.
“You gone talk to me?” He questioned her, voice still low. His eyes trailed across the length of her arm before they caught on the tiny gap between the crook of her elbow and bridge of her nose, noting the tight press her lips now held.
He reached out for her again, this time settling further back into the cushions so that he could card a few strands of straying hair off of her temple. The skin there was soft as he brushed his thumb back over it, simply ‘cause he could. Before, he had wondered over this fact for far too long; on faraway phone calls, in the white noise that surrounded him whenever she left him with a text telling him she’d talk after her shower, on that day he’d had her pinned to the wall of this very studio.
She wore a tough exterior. A hardshell. Even with those many walls she had up. But beneath it all, she was as delicate as they came. Soft, in the sweetest of ways. Had his mind filled with thoughts that it shouldn’t be thinking. Especially not in a moment where the only thing her defences called for was a gentle hand, a listening ear.
He’d never been good at any of that though. Not with women, at least. Never with women. Had been told it enough times for it to have been engrained somewhere deep in the scar tissue that was his apparent brain. Still, he wanted to fucking try.
Somehow it felt a little easier now, for some fucking abstract reason, than it had before.
Or maybe it was just all in his head. Maybe it was just her.
Yet, with all these thoughts he still found himself relaxing further into her side, fingers finding purchase in the roots of her hair whilst he simply stared up at the ceiling above them. Content to just wait.
“You know. I only brought this house ‘cause of this singular room.” He murmured after a long minute had passed, figuring that if she didn’t wanna talk, he wouldn’t push her. Knew she was as stubborn as he was most days, and if he didn’t want to do something, he wasn’t gonna. No matter who the fuck asked. “Measurements just added up. Knew it the second I walked in, didn’t even have to ask for the square by square. Just felt it.”
He licked at his lower lip again, the muscles in his back untensing and falling deeper into the couch as he continued to speak, telling her about how the acoustics reverberated perfectly within the booth because of the slight curve the ceiling held and why he didn’t even have to think about painting the walls ‘cause he was obsessed with how the wood they were made out of made him feel like he wasn’t so confined. No matter how boxlike it could make the place look. Just gave off an earthy sort of feel, allowed him to breathe a little deeper. Pretend like he was out in the middle of nowhere; some forest off the coast or maybe just a cabin up high in the mountains.
She listened all the while. He could tell from the way her arm grew limp over her face and how her breaths had since evened out in the time he spent mumbling away.
Still, it took her a bit to come around again. For that guard to slip.
She shifted ever so slightly, falling into him in a way that had whatever tension remained in him slipping away entirely. He wrapped his arms around her, mouth twitching when he felt the curve of her cheek press against his shoulder and her hand fist his t-shirt.
“I hate the song.”
He immediately scoffed, smiling a little now.
“I do.” She was quick to reiterate, words muffled in the fabric of his collar, “Fuckin’ sucks.”
“Hm, and the moon’s blue, baby.” Marshall hummed into the crown of her head, not believing a word she was saying.
Her hand tightened its hold before it dropped to toy with the hem of his shirt. She played with the edge for a too-long second, then let go of a helpless sigh, “You’re right, I just suck. You should get someone else to sing it.”
He closed his eyes as he buried his face deeper into her hair, appreciating the sweet scent he was met with as he gently shook his head, chin brushing against the outer shell of her ear when he did. He pressed a kiss to her crown before reluctantly pulling away, fingers trailing over the bow of her shoulders, “Won’t release it then. Don’t want it if you ain’t on it.”
She didn’t like that. She groaned before huffing carelessly into his neck, breathing hot air over his skin and lighting up a trail of goosebumps across the flesh. His hand twitched with it, falling further downwards to trace the line of her spine.
“I can’t do it, Marshall.” She told him after a second had passed, voice barely even audible.
His eyes returned to the ceiling once more, wishing that he could read her mind. If only to find the right words to say.
“Then we won’t do it.” He finally heard himself speak, swallowing thickly before he leaned away to peer back down at her. She glanced back up at him then, whirlpools of green guarded by a defensive line of dark lashes. His lips parted on their own accord at the sight and he couldn't seem to stop the way he reached out to coax her chin up, thumbing at her jaw. “We won’t do it. OK?” He repeated.
She just shook her head, as much as she could with her chin still captured in his hold. He eased up, let his nail skim over the edge of her plush bottom lip. “I want to.” She murmured, tone oddly defeated, “I want to so badly. But I– I’m so in my head. I don’t want to ruin it for you. I don’t want people questioning it all. Asking how I managed to warp your ideals, for you to include me on this album. I don’t want this,” She gestured between the two of them then, “Whatever the fuck this is, to turn into something it isn’t. I don’t want you to–”
She stopped there. Hand flying up to wipe at the wetness which clung to her red rimmed eyes, knowing that she wouldn’t let go of a single tear, before she then pinched the bridge of her nose and sniffed.
“Want me to, what?” He murmured, taking hold of one of her wrists.
She shook her head, not wanting to say whatever the hell she was thinking out loud. He frowned, before he let his hand encase hers, dragging it closer to where their chests aligned.
“Baby, nothing’s gone change. You hear me?” He told her, tightening the hold he had on her hand as he did. “Me ‘n you, we’re still working our shit out, yeah.. But that don’t mean whatever the fuck we got goin’ on here isn’t worth keeping. Worth– I don’t know, holdin’ onto. If I didn’t want this I would’ve dipped the second them photos hit the media. Probably even before that, like before I let you meet my friends.. my daughter.”
He ground his teeth, hating the way he could sometimes be so bad with words. Fumbling over what he really wanted to say and instead mixing it up with a bunch of crap that didn’t even make sense. He gritted out a heavy breath, but let himself soften at the warmth of her hand in his.
“Look, I don’t care if we release this song. I mean, it’s.. God, sweetheart, it’s good. Too fuckin’ good. An’ that’s all down to you. But that also don’t mean shit if your heart ain’t in it. If you don’t want the world hearin’ it.” Marshall continued on, blowing out something that almost resembled a chuckle before he peered back down at her, “You wanna record it just to keep for us? I’m down. I’ll blast it in my car, listen to it as I try to fuckin’ fall asleep, yeah? If you want to leave it completely, I’ll buy a safe. We can go down to the river and drop whatever audio of it inside, let it sink to the bottom. Ain’t no point in stressin’ over shit that you can’t change. Fans, the real fans, appreciate the semblance it’ll represent. And at the end of the day, that’s all I’ma care about. That and the fact that I got to create somethin’ like that with you.”
He inhaled through his nose and then blew it out in another airy sort of laugh, wondering when the fuck he’d grown so sappy. If it was old age, or something else entirely.
“You hear me?” He prompted, “I don’t care, baby. Song or no song, album will still go out. Still get a couple sales. Still keep Dre and Paul off my back. Only difference is I’ll know that all them people will be missin’ out. ‘Cause you? You’re everything music’s been lackin’ lately. And this song, it shows that. It means something to you. I know it does. Means something to me, too.”
The look she gifted him in that next moment had his mind stilling. As though every thought, notion, and defence had left his very being and slipped out of the first exit they could find. It went quiet. Silent.
He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been able to block all that noise out.
Now, it was almost eerie how fast it could happen, how fast it had happened. He found himself simply staring back at her, and with all the softness a man like him could muster, he cradled her face in his palms as though she was some invaluable piece of artwork that had just been rediscovered. And it was only then, when he leaned in and she didn’t think before meeting him halfway, her hands already clinging to the nape of his neck, that his mind rebooted. Came to life.
And fuck if the thought he was met with didn’t scare him to death.