INFINITE (Eminem Fan Fiction)

Chapter 50: Ken Kaniff

Chapter 50: Ken Kaniff

 Riley was surprised at how well she’d slept that night. She thought that with everything on her mind, she wouldn’t sleep very much, but she found the exhaustion pushing past her feelings. She could see how tours took the toll. Last year’s tour in the US had gone for so long, she’d forgotten what life was like outside of it. She could see the stress it put on Marshall, whether he’d admit it or not. He was tired and pushed himself so hard. His perfectionist nature drove him to practice hard and for hours on end. And somehow, he had the energy to put up a front to everyone and pretend he wasn’t exhausted. Either way, the tour was worth the long hours and crazy exhaustion. Performing on that stage was like nothing else she’d ever experienced. And she had a tiny role in comparison to him.

They were headed out the huge foyer of the Paris hotel, sunrise early. Paul was holding the damn camera, filming them as they filed out to the cars to take them to the airport. Marshall was up front, headphones over his ears, a solid beat playing through them. He was wearing his pattered do-rag and black tracksuit and his glasses. She always loved it when he wore them. He usually wore contacts on stage and during performances but the glasses were simply adorable. And she was afraid that if she told him that, he’s stop wearing them. Adorable and Rapper usually didn’t mix well. 

She gave a sly smirk as he started randomly freestyling. Most of the time when he had a beat playing he’d drop a few lines here and there. She was constantly amazed at his ability to rhyme on the spot like that. “I’m in Paris still, ‘bout to jump off the goddamn Ferris wheel, in Paris, EW.”

Paul, playing camera guy for the trip, still had it pointed at him as he asked, “What are you going to miss most about Paris?”

Marshall shrugged, “My crooked nose in Paris.”

They stepped out of the hotel and straight into the black cars that were waiting. Marshall let her in first so she could sit on the far side. As he slid in, his face screwed up.

“Can we turn the heater on? Its motherfucking cold in here,” He insisted. Paul smirked as he climbed in beside Marshall and shut the door. The car took off immediately.

Riley shifted in her seat as she felt the heater come on. “You always want it to be your way, don’t you?” She teased. Paul flicked the camera back on and had it pointed at them.

Marshall had a cheeky grin, “I want it my way. Like if it’s going to be my way, it’s gotta be my way and that’s it. It should just be my way. It should be my way before it should just always be automatically my way before it’s even my way. Because I should get what I want.”

Paul nodded, “Right. And what do you do if you don’t get what you want?”

“Well then I just simply cream-“He paused and smirked as he realized he’d mistaken the word ‘scream’ but continued anyway “-cream my draws.” They all laughed. “I simply just scream and cry and throw a fit until I get my way.”

Paul looked like he knew that Marshall wasn’t even lying, “You’ll throw a fit on a moped.”

He instantly started freestyling. “Dope head, pushing a moped with no tires and no tread, pulling your fat momma in a snow sled, nothing but a coke head.”

Paul kept the camera trained on Marshall. Riley sat back so she couldn’t be seen. She wasn’t interested in being filmed so early in the morning, with her hair pulled back into a goddamn bun. “Do you know where you’re going?”

Marshall shook his head. “I know I’m leaving Paris. But I don’t know where I’m going. Where are we going?”

“We’re going to England.”