2. Imitation Diamonds

Marshall's P.O.V.

July, 1999

"Ayo, Slim! There go ya girl right there," Bizarre smirks as he passes me the blunt.

"Huh?" Taking two quick puffs from the joint, I then pass it over to Proof, dude grabbing it greedily, a lazy smirk spread over his face.

Without thinking much about shit, I let my head fall back against the couch I'm currently seated on, some random ass blonde chick perched on my lap, giggling her stupid ass off.

My heavily-lidded eyes lazily scanning the room, I take it all in.

The fellas all high and drunk out of their minds prowling about.

Bizzy and Proof currently sat next to me, Bizarre stuffing his face of course, cause the fat fucker can't function if he ain't eating something, and doody with a beer bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Both of them tryna mac on some sluts seated right beside them.

While Kuniva and Kon are at the other end of the room, arguing about something.

Swifty dancing with two chick who are all up on him.

Dre sitting somewhere in the corner smirking.

And I ain't even know where Snoop is. Presumably meeting up with his dealer though, cause the fucker had sworn up and down earlier that the weed we was all smoking earlier wasn't strong enough for his standards. Shit was weak, according to him. So he went out to get something else.

My boy Xzibit currently bursting through the door, a whole case of beers tucked under one of his armpits while gulping from a Henny bottle like there's no tomorrow.

And then there's hella bitches all over the place as well. Groupie sluts always do know how to find their way towards where we all are at, they don't even have to be invited. They just know shit. And they quick to be all over the place, thirsting over motherfuckers.

Not that I mind.

Not that any of the fellas mind.

Today being what you would call a house warming party for my brand new apartment I've just bought here in LA and all.

I've finally caved.

Considering the fact how I have to constantly travel between here and the D recording and shit, I might as well have an actual spot here that belongs to me and where I could lay my head at, knowing damn well that this territory here? It belongs completely to ME, and it ain't just some temporary spot I pay money to stay at.

Not that it would ever become a permanent home for me cause it sure as fuck won't.

Nothing can replace Detroit, dawg. Ever. Plus, that's where my little girl rests her previous blonde head at every night too. Hailie.

I'd never make no spot an actual home that ain't home for my daughter as well.

But fuck it. LA will just have to do for right now, you know what I'm saying?

Cause at the end of the day, I do spend a lot of time here, so I might as well.

Anyhow..

The blunt being passed back towards me again, I take another puff from it, potent weed smoke invading my lungs instantly, a feeling of pure laziness and relaxation spreading through my bones like liquid.

Fuck was Snoop even talking about earlier?

Cause on my life, this shit here is in fact potent.

So much so that I'm only just now realizing what the fuck Bizzy was even saying to me earlier.

"Yo fuck you mean, 'my girl', fuck you talking about, dawg?" words rolling off of my tongue sluggish as fuck, I stare hard at Rufus, my eyes squinting involuntarily while I exhale the smoke from my lungs, the mixture of the drugs and the liquor swirling through my system in the best possible way.

Passing the blunt towards doody again, Bizarre smirks, rubbing his fat belly.

"That Harmony bitch or whatever her name is. She on TV, nigga. Just look," Rufus drawls out, an instigating smirk set on his mouth as he points with his thumb at the TV perched onto the wall in the loving room.

"Ewww, her," the groupie sat on my lap almost instantly whines, the displeasure clear in her voice, and I smirk to myself at her naivete.

Cause apparently the lil slut thinks that being fake outraged on my behalf would get her somewhere with me, put her in my good graces and all.

It won't.

I mean, I'd still nail the fuck outta her no doubt.

But that's as far as any bitch can ever expect from me to be honest.

I don't respect women for shit, them being only good for one thing. Pussy.

"That dumb slut ain't my girl, fuck you even on Bizz," I smirk, squinting my eyes at the TV screen this time, while the groupie on my lap attempts to grind her bony ass hips on me in order to distract me, I guess. I wave her ass off and she looks real hurt.

"Seems like she wanna be though. Otherwise why she keep calling you out like this, nigga?" Proof casually asks, causing the whole room to erupt in laughter while I flip doody off.

Cause ain't no way in motherfucking cold hell.

In the meantime, all four of the sluts get settled. All four of them Imitation Diamonds whores clearly visible on the TV screen as they get sat and get mics attached to them for what I'm assuming is the interview they about to give.

Squinting my eyes, I involuntarily lean forward, my eyes glued towards the TV, a bottle of Bacardi clutched in my left hand.

The groupie in my lap attempts to get my attention, but I swipe her away again. The slut irritating the fuck outta me for real. I fucking hate a needy ass bitch for real. Chicks like that are the absolute worst.

Eyes still following every move of them fake ass gems girls, the goddamn cheap ass rhinestones, I zero in on the one called Harmony specifically.

The dumb slut had called herself the other day, mentioning my goddamn name in some shitty freestyle, and for literally zero reason at all.

Cause I ain't never even done nothing to the slut.

Not yet anyhow.

As a matter of fact, if Harmony Jones ain't spoke on my name then I'd probably never have known bitch even existed, cause who the fuck even is she?!

A member of some whack ass pop group that like to call themselves hip-hop  just cause one of them bitches attempts to do her lil corny ass raps on their verses at times?

Ain't none of them whores was even on my radar before.

"So Harmony, about you dissing Eminem himself that one time a couple of weeks ago. Aren't you afraid of him retaliating. Because I've heard some rumors, and..." the interviewer asks the dumb chick, and all of a sudden, the whole room begins to erupt in laughter cause apparently motherfuckers can't control themselves at all and think that this shit is funny.

"Ew, she's so ugly, Em," the groupie chick on my lap whispers in my ear in the meantime, placing a small kiss right under my lobe, causing me to involuntarily twitch in disgust, a wave of annoyance washing over me as I swat at her again, my mouth pressing into a thin line while my jaw clenches in place hard.

Eyes narrowing, I can't help but stare at the stupid goddamn slut on the TV screen, her long hair covering half of her face, that stupid lollipop candy the rhinestone always seems to be sucking on, probably wanting it to be a dick or some shit, tucked snugly at the side of her pouty lips. The nasty ass whore that she is, Harmony opens her mouth to speak.

"Nigga please, ain't nobody scared of that white boy," she states, looking directly into the camera's lense, her brown doe eyes deceptive as fuck, making her appear almost innocent like, but i know better.

Even if I ain't never met the bitch in person, I know her goddamn type.

She's a filthy ass nasty ass motherfucking cocksucking ass slut, and I put that on everything that she is just that.

Fuck!!

The other three whores, her group members then all exchanging conspiratory glances between each other, most likely annoyed by the fact that the whole interview has now all of a sudden been hijacked and went from being about their whack ass group to her beef with me.

And I ain't even gonna front, that diss she did against me? Whack as it was, I'm still livid about it.

It was just some of the things she rapped about.

Like her saying all this dumb retarded shit about how she supposedly knows somebody that had spilled all of my business to her, stating how she knows "for a fact" that I got a small cock and I can't fuck.

Cause I'm a premature ejaculator apparently.

According to that one lying ass bitch rhinestone was presumably talking to.

I swear to fuck man, as soon as I heard that whack ass LYING ass shit spill from the slutty chick's foul ass lips, I was tempted as fuck to roll up on her right at the studio building she records at and pull my pants down and show her my dick. Shove that shit right in her face. Just to prove to her that she was in fact mistaken to listen to whichever lying ass broad she's been talking to.

If that bitch even exists that is.

Cause I won't even put it past Harmony Jones to make the whole shit up, cause she's a fucking cunt like that anyhow.

Paul had talked me out of it though.

And by talking me out of it, I mean that the bald fucker legit had two huge bodyguards fucking pin me to the floor preventing me from leaving the studio that day.

So Harmony Jones is lucky.

Cause I would've shoved my cock all the way down her throat too, just to prove her stupid ass wrong.

But fuck it.

The rest of the shit she spat about me in her lil radio freestyle was whack as shit.

She mostly just made the good ole wHiTe jOkEs about me, insinuating how I ain't even belong in hip-hop cause of my skin color.

Oh, and she attempted to call me a woman beater too or some shit.

All of her shit she said coming off dumb like I said, the stupid slut clearly wanting to make a name for herself and her whack ass girl group dissing me. Attempting to create fake controversy for herself and them other chicks.

Dumb ass bitch.

"Plus," licking her lips and shoving that damn lollipop back into the corner of her mouth, the nasty ass chick begins to speak again, "I know for a fact that Eminem would NEVER respond to me anyways. Do y'all know why? Because I'm an actual MC, that's why. Let's face it. The only people the white boy has ever dissed so far were pop stars. Like Britney or Christina. People he knows FOR A FACT would never retaliate against him. Simply because they don't have the skills required to go after him. Marshall can only attack the weak. But nigga? Be fucking for real. He wouldn't even DARE to respond to somebody like me."

"Oh SHIT!" Bizarre quickly huffs out, rapidly gulping down the rest of his food he had piled up on the plate on his lap, barely even chewijg the shit. The fat man's eyes glued to the TV just like my own are.

The atmosphere in the apartment suddenly shifting, the air itself becoming thick and suffocating.

And it do feel like every person in this motherfucker's eye is trained directly on me.

Even Dre is staring at me, a frown settling over his face as he's fighting away a smirk, and I scoff.

Dragging one of my hands down my face, I clench my jaw so hard if feels like some of my teeth is about to become dislocated or some shit, my gaze trained on the disrespectful bitch on TV, my frantic brain currently coming up with all kinds of ways to murder her ass.

Fucking destroy her.

Cause I hate the goddamn slut for real!

Who the fuck does she think she is talking about some shit she ain't even know nothing about?!

And she for real don't know.

The goddamn whore has absolutely no clue, nor do she know me.

"Eminem DID in fact respond to you before though, Harmony. In this one interview he did," the reporter dude states, and i smirk, vividly remembering the said interview the fucker is talking about.

"Oh, really? I had no idea actually. Like... what did he even say?" The dumb chick asks, an even dumber smile appearing on her pouty lips.

I imagine briefly how it would feel to shut her up by shoving my dick right in between them.

Bet she won't be saying no dumb shit about me then, once she's experienced it that is.

Stupid ass cunt..

"Well, we actually do have a tape of his interview here. Roll the tape, Dave," the interviewer dude states, causing Harmony's group members, all except for the white chick who actually looks curious about it to roll their eyes.

The recording then gets played, taking up the majority of the screen, and the groupie chick in my lap leans in to whisper into my ear, "You looked so good on there, Em."

"Slut, get off me," I wave her off yet again. The bimbo's dumb as fuck, I swear. Cause I ain't even in the mood right now, but somehow the stupid bitch ain't able to read that.

The recoding plays, and it's a clip of me talking shit about Harmony, saying how she must wanna jump on my cock bad. That's why she made that diss about me. For me to notice her dumb slut ass. And that if it's attention she wants from me, then I won't mind. Fine as that goddamn girl is, all she gotta say is a word and I'd be bending her over the mixing board somewhere and giving it to her just like the little dirty whore that she is.

"Omg, nigga please!!" The Rhinestone Chick immediately laughs after the video is done playing. "Don't nobody want that white man cause I don't even get down like that. I don't want no 2 inch dick in me, sorry."

"Damn Slim, that chick keeps flaming your ass!" One of the fellas exclaims causing me to flip the motherfucker off.

"Um... I'm pretty sure you have way more than 2 inches, Em, I can feel it," the groupie chick says in my ear, one of her hands snaking towards my crotch.

"Fuck off me slut," I practically bark, pushing her dumbass off of me damn near knocking her onto the floor, my eyes still glued to the TV screen, shit is practically becoming obsessive at this point.

Who does this little whore think she is? I think to myself, just as the interviewer asks Harmony Jones, "So, you don't find Slim Shady attractive at all?"

Causing the dumb chick to shrug as she giggles like the goddamn airhead that she is.

"I mean... Em is honestly cute and all. But I've heard that he's married anyways. To the same girl he always raps about murdering and stuffing into the trunk of his car. And I don't get down like that. I don't fuck married men." Harmony Jones states.

Rage.

The kind I ain't never experienced before for real cursing all through my veins almost instantly in response to the dumb whore just blabbing my business like that.

And this shit here. This is different for real.

Different from her making up all that stupid shit about my dick being small and saying I can't fuck.

Cause this here? Unlike all that other shit she spat, her gossiping about my marriage to my whore of a baby mother's is speaking on something that's real, and something I ain't necessarily wanted the whole world to know about.

How the fuck do SHE even know about this, how she know that I'm married?!

Who the fuck is she talking to, who fucking told her that?!

Aw, fuck no!

"Ew, you married for real, Marshall?" The groupie in my lap scrunched up her face, fake pretending like shit like this bothers her, when I know damn well that it don't.

Nasty ass sluts won't even care about shit like this cause why would they.

Ignoring her, I turn my attention to Proof.

"Doody, what you know about them bitches-in-the-rough whores?" I ask sharply, my voice coming out rushed and harsh.

Pulling out my notepad from one of the backpockets of my pants, I settle that shit on my lap, flipping it onto a clean page.

"Oh shiiiiiiittt!! The nigga done got the notepad out, Diamond Cuts are done for now!" somebody whistles but I ignore them, eyes focused on the tip of the pen I press against the paper.

"Proof?" I ask doody again, who shrugs.

"I ain't really know much. Just some bullshit niggas be saying about them."

"Whatever you do know would work. Cause see? That Harmony chick? She chose to voice some rumors about me that she ain't even know for sure if it's true or not. So I'm about to do the same shit to her. The label wants me to release a different debut single for the new album that ain't The Way I Am anyhow. Motherfuckers want me to do the Slim Shady shit again, and I'm about to give it to them."

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Ugh, how we feeling about this chapter, cause I'm very unsure about it 😭😭 plus, I wrote the while thing while being extremely hangover lol 😅