𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐄 | 𝐌.𝐌.

Chapter 3

The awards show had gone well for both Marshall and Khrys, respectively. Each of them had won some awards and Marshall performed his hit single plus another with Dre and as expected, everyone loved it. Khrys had learned three things during his performance. First off, she was able to finally put a face with the name "Eminem". He was rather shorter than most, he was really really white, and regardless of his lyrics, he seemed more down the earth than anything. Rather or not he would be pleasant to be around, wasn't something she could determine yet.

For some reason, watching him put her in a trance. He moved so fluidly and there was one thing she noticed right away, he was nervous. Yet, he handled himself so well. He re-iterated himself when the crowd yelled over him but, he never once lost his cool. From where she was sitting, she could inspect most of his features. Pale, uneven skin, crooked yet pointy nose, thick, dark eyebrows and lips, blonde hair that had obviously been bleached and it didn't take a magnifying glass to tell that he had some of the most beautiful baby blues. As Ashleigh had pointed out earlier, he was indeed, very attractive. Yet, Khrys still couldn't bring herself to make a decision regarding his persona at the moment.

The rest of the show moved on smoothly as artist after artist accepted awards, performed their songs and gave speeches, ranging from sentimental to down right hilarious. Chris Rock had been doing a wonderful job keeping everyone entertained throughout the whole show and surely it'd be a night to remember.
As the show ended, all the celebrities got up to meet and greet and discuss after-party plans.

Marshall was sitting next to Deshaun and Dre, sipping on his drink slowly. He had been told to wait until his car came around before he left the building. So there he was, people watching again, when he caught the familiar glimpse of rustic red hair.

"Dawg, Dawg." Marshall called out as he repeatedly tapped Deshaun on the arm. He hadn't been looking at him so he didn't realize he was staring at the back of his head.

Deshaun had smacked him on the back of the neck. Marshall cupped his hand over the stinging skin as he looked back at him, a look of bewilderment taking over his features.

"Ow, man. What the fuck?"

"What the hell you tapping me for?"

"Shit, I was just trying to show you the chick I was talking about earlier, man." Marshall responded, pointing over at the woman.

She was currently in the middle of a seemingly painful belly laugh. Whatever the person talking to her said, must've been hilarious. Marshall suddenly felt a pang of jealousy as he watched the two converse. He wished he was the one over there making her potentially, pee herself.

"Aw yeah, yeah, yeah. That's the lil chick that flamed Bizzare's shit earlier." Deshaun laughed.

Marshall's eyebrows raised to his hairline as he looked back and forth between Proof and the woman currently cackling her brains out. "Are you sure that was her?" He asked unsure. How would Deshaun have met her, yet he had never even seen her until she got out on the red carpet?

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure dawg. She was leaving earlier and Bizzare said some shit like 'what's the special' and she tore off in his shit real good, son."

"Damn."