10) My Bad

I've been working with Dre in the studio nonstop for this upcoming album. Today, I finally had off. It was time I needed a break. Just a little time off to focus on myself again. And by that I mean, wild the fuck out.

I've decided to go clubbing. I mean, my fiancé is all the way in Detroit. It's making me go crazy. If I don't at least look at another female in the next few weeks, my penis will fall off.

Not to mention I wanna talk to other people here in LA. I've been so antisocial working in the studio with Dre and the Bass Brothers. I haven't really done anything else. I need to get out there and just have a good time. Who knows, once this fame shit kicks in, I might not ever have time to do what I wanna do.

***

I slip into on a white t shirt and grey sweatpants. I don't really care about presenting myself nicely since I'm just going to a strip club anyways. I rub my face and look at myself in the mirror. I notice my normally short brown hair is starting to overgrow and is sticking out all over the place. I take a hair brush from out of the sink drawer and begin brushing my hair forward. I make a mental note to do get a haircut when I have the time.

When I walk into the club, I realize it's nothing like anything I am used to. This place looks safe and clean, unlike the strip clubs in Detroit. The bright colored lights seem very extravagant and the bar area looks pretty dope too.

I decided to make some small talk with a few white guys that looked around my age but they seemed a little too fruity for my liking.

"So what do you do for a living?" one of the guys asked me while taking a sip of his drink.

"Uh, music." I said, clearing my throat. "I do music."

"You do music?" one of the guys repeated in confusion.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I write rhymes."

"Oh, wow." The guy blinked for a second. "And you get — payed for that?"

"Yeah." I answered with a tight lip.

"Awesome...." he nodded his head. "What was your name again, Marshall?" He stroked his chin. "Why haven't I seen or heard of you before?"

I got distracted by the strippers that were dancing on the poles. I wanted to leave with one so bad but knowing I was engaged, I figured I probably shouldn't. I looked back at the guy.

"Well, I don't mean to brag but uh, I've recently signed a record deal with Dr Dre." I boasted. Both guys looked at each other and laughed. "I'm serious. I've been working with him in the studio." I snapped angrily.

"I think you might've had a drink too many, pal." The guy patted my back then walked away with his friend.

I rolled my eyes, then headed toward the bar since I actually didn't have anything to drink yet.

Who cares if those two fruitcakes don't believe me? — I thought to myself. — They'll see me on tv eventually.

I took a seat on one of the stools, waiting for the bartender to finish helping another man in a biker jacket. In the meantime, I checked out some of the girls making their way past.

"What would you like to drink, sir?" The bartender asked while wiping down the counter with a white rag.

"Anything that'll get me knocked up." I chuckled. "I think I'm feelin' for a coconut rum."

"Comin' right up." He smiled and started preparing my drink.

Man if only I had my boys with me. We'd be mixing coke with this shit. I laughed to myself, thinking about my friends from back home.

"Here you go, sir." the guy smiled at me while handing me my drink. I nodded my head then played down my money.

After a few minutes of just sitting there alone, the bartender attempted at small talk — most likely because I was the only one sitting down at the moment.

"So, you trying to get some broads?" He asked while motioning his head towards all the women.

"I mean, I'm jus' lookin'." I shrugged.

"Just looking?" he blinked in surprise.

I nodded my head.

"Why? If you're here you might as well get at least a lap dance."

I shook my head while finishing the last drop of my drink.

"Can't. I'm engaged." I admitted. His eyes widened in shock, then shrunk back as he began laughing.

"Well if you're taken, why are you here?" He laughed. "I mean it's kinda pointless to be at a strip club if you're untouchable."

"Well," I said, leaning my weight into the counter. "I'm here in LA for business reasons. And my girl is all the way back home in Detroit. So I figured I'd come here, have a few drinks, you know? Check out some chicks." I laughed while shaking my head. "I mean if anythin' I'm just gonna jerk off in the bathroom and be on my way."

"Wow," the bartender chuckles. "You're a committed man. I don't know how you do it."

"I dunno but it takes a lot of pornos — and lotion."

The bartender erupted into a fit of laughter as I just smirk.

When our conversation died down, I asked for one more drink then headed into the bathroom.

I made sure the room was empty just to avoid any issues. I then reach into my pocket and pulled out two pill bottles. One filled with Xanax and the other filled with ecstasy. I had a few plugs hit me up before I flew out to LA.

I popped two of each into my mouth then washed it all down with my drink.

***

The rest of my night consisted of drinking but mostly popping pills. I was too high to even detect how many I've had. But I knew it was one too many. I ended up dancing with a lot of girls too but denied them anytime they'd ask to have sex.

By the time I got to my hotel room I was still fully blitzed. I've never experienced a trip as intense as this, I wasn't able to think straight at all. My mind was lost. And my vision was blurred.

"I need to take a shower." I mumbled to myself in a slur.

I stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower head. I stripped out of my clothes, carelessly tossing them onto the floor.

Before I stepped in, I noticed the lack of shampoo bottles.

Fuck, where's the other bottle.

Because I was far too wasted to look in any logical spot, I started my search in the bedroom. I got on the floor and checked under the bed, of course finding nothing but two stray socks. I realized the water was still running then headed back into the bathroom.

I checked the cabinet under the sink and looked through all the random cleaners such as windex and bleach.

Wait a minute, bleach cleans shit right? Fuck yeah. Shit, I'm finna wash my hair with some bleach. Why hasn't anyone else thought of this shit before? It's a fuckin' million dollar idea.

I grabbed hold of the bleach bottle and stepped into the shower. I luckily manage to not get any on my face.

Once I finished my shower, I stepped out, drying my hair and body with a towel. I then looked into the mirror.

"Whooaaaa, when did this happen!?" I shouted to myself while staring at a blonde version of me through the mirror. I then realized it was the bleach. Well, I did say I needed to do something to my hair. I can't remember what that was, but maybe it was to dye it.

Suddenly a painful shock went up my spine and into my head. A giant migraine erupted due to the the drugs and alcohol. I rubbed my temples and moaned to myself.

****

The sound of my phone ringing from the bedroom woke me up. My eyes slowly fluttered open. I was staring up at the bathroom ceiling.

The fuck? What time is it?

I got up and looked into the mirror.

"What the FUCK??" Worry lines framed around my mouth, tugging at my eyes.  I rubbed my hands down my face just to make sure I was truly awake. Why is my hair fucking blonde??

Shit. I cussed under my breath. I must've overdosed last night.

I quickly stepped into the bedroom and looked at my alarm clock.

9:30. Shit, I needed to meet with Dre an hour and a half ago. I had no time but to step into my outfit from yesterday and head out the door.

****Dre's POV*

"Man where is that cat?" I asked Mark and Jeff while pacing around the studio room.

"I'm not sure." Jeff shrugged. "Like I said, we knocked on his door this morning multiple times but he never answered--" his sentence was cut short from the sound of the door opening up.

In stepped —

Slim?

I blinked multiple times, trying to make sure I was seeing things right. I was frozen. I just stood there staring at him until I was able to speak.

"That is your look." I finally spoke. "Dyed, bleach blonde hair."