Chapter Text
Marshall sat on the bed of his hotel room, and looked around. He had flown into Los Angeles from Detroit the day before and was too tired to really look around the room. This was the nicest hotel he had ever stayed in. He couldn't believe that Dr.Dre had been generous enough to get him first class seats on the plane as well as a suite like this. He didn't even know the guy but he already felt like he owed him. He anxiously watched the news as he waited for the sheaffer to come knocking at his door. He had never had a sheaffer before so he was having trouble convincing himself not be worried about being late because even if he was late to their meeting, it wouldn't be his fault. Eventually the man arrived, introduced himself, and escorted him down through the lobby. He made conversation with the guy as he drove, not sure of whether or not he was supposed to. Was he supposed to tip the guy after he dropped him off? He was so confused. Amidst his wondering he realized just how bright his yellow sweat suit was. He looked stupid. He didn't really know what to wear. He wanted to look like a legit rapper which is why he had picked the neon sweatsuit. But now he wondered whether he should have worn something nice. When they reached his destination he offered to tip the sheaffer but the man declined and said that his fee had already been well taken care of by Dre. He stepped out of the car and was relatively shocked to see that he had been brought to a large mansion. He had been expecting a label office. An assistant came out to greet him and explained that the mansion in which he had been brought to was Dre's. The man led him into the house and he was immediately greeted by a little boy, no older than 6, showing him an action figure. He talked to the little boy for a second before the assistant told the boy that they were there for work and that they needed to go. Dre's house was huge which is why he was surprised to see that it actually seemed pretty cozy inside. He had always imagined that someone like Dre would have pool tables, stripper poles, and other crazy shit like that throughout his house. He felt a bit more comfortable when he saw the living room scattered with toys and spongebob playing on the big screen. He reminded himself that Dre was just a normal person. He was a dad, just like he was. The assistant explained that Dre had been recently married in the last few years and had been doing more recording at his home studio so that he can be near his family. Made sense. As if on cue Dre came walking up the staircase that led from a floor underneath the house and into his living room.
Holy shit. Marshall tried his best to keep his cool but he could feel his heart pounding like it was trying to break out of his chest. He looked at him and just thought of what he wanted to say: 'dude... I see you on TV all the time. You're like my biggest inspiration ever in life.' That would be too forward though. He was brought out of thought by Dre extending a hand and asking for his name.
Marshall gave him a firm hand shake "I'm eminem, sir."
Dre grinned with a confused look "that's your legal name?" He joked
Shit. Duh. "Marshall is my real name. Marshall Mathers."
'I'm eminem blah blah blah blah. Idiot.' He thought to himself
"Andre Young. You can call me Dre though. Welcome."
Dre guided him away from living room in which his son was playing in and instead into another living room that looked much more well kept. Dre sat on one of his pure black suede couches and offered for Marshall to take a seat in the other. Dre asked him all sorts of questions he wasn't expecting. He had came fully prepared to answer questions like 'how fast can you rap? Can you produce? Are you in a gang' etc. he wasnt expecting Dre to simply sit and ask about how his flight was and whether he is okay with his room. Dre's son sneaked into the room and crawled onto Dre's lap. Dre apologized but Marshall told him not to worry about it since he was a father too. They then discussed their families, work, and other similar topics.
Dre looked at his watch and got up from the couch, he motioned for him to follow. Dre walked him through the house and talked about the plaques and art covering his walls. They made their way into the kitchen and found a chef preparing a meal.
"Do you eat this kind of stuff" Dre asked him while referring to a set up of panini sandwiches and tomato soup.
"Yeah definitely."
"Itll be done in just a minute Mr. Young." Dre's chef told them
Dre led him out of the kitchen and into a dining room. He offered him a seat before excusing himself to round up his kids for lunch. Marshall sat and waited befor Dre came back with the little boy from earlier and another little boy whom he hadn't met yet. Dre sat across from him and the two boys took seats next to Dre.
"Hey Dre I can go just hang out or something so you and your boys can eat."
Dre shot him a puzzled look "Nah you're fine. I mean you're hungry aren't you? There's plenty, don't feel like you're intruding."
The chef served them their food and Dre excused her to go eat as well if she was hungry. They sat, ate, and talked the best they could with the boys playing with their food.
"There's an idea that I like." Dre started "if you want to get to know someone, you do it over food. Offering food is the best way to establish a bond."
Marshall thought for a moment before realizing Dre was right. They had been talking quite a bit since they had sat down to eat. Interesting. It was really nice of Dre to feed him. He didn't normally get to eat good food like this. Dre asked for the chef to serve the two of them a second round. He was glad that Dre did because as filling as the food was, he was still hungry. He didn't eat very much at home because he always wanted to ensure that Kim and Hailie had plenty to eat. After their lunch Dre took him through a small house tour and showed him all his cars and other toys before bringing him downstairs to the under level where his home studio was located. They finally got down to talking about the stuff he had been expecting Dre to bring up in the beginning. They talked about music, his skills, what he wants out of music, and on and on. After a bit of talking, Dre asked him if he wanted to hear a new beat he had been working on.
*the beat that would become My Name Is begins playing*
Marshall listened for a few seconds before a line came to his name head
"Hi. My name is. My name is. My name is. Chicka chicka Slim Shady."
Dre immediately turned the beat off.
"What the hell was that?!" Dre asked
Oh no. He thought it was corny. It was stupid.
"I... I didn't... I was just..."
"Damn. I wasn't expecting us to record today but hell let's go for it."
"Wait what?"
"I can't believe that. You let that beat go for... what? Like 10 seconds? And then you just start spewing a fucking hook!? Hell yeah let's do it."
Dre walked over to a small desk in the room and pulled out a large note pad and a pen. He handed it to him and offered for him to sit and write. Dre turned the beat back on and let him do his thing. Rhymes came to him with ease, starting with that chorus. He had never written rhymes that felt like they matched with the beat so effortlessly. It was almost like it was tailor made for him. Maybe 20 minutes went by before he had a full rough draft of a song. He told Dre he was done and the producer was beyond excited to see that he could write so quickly. Marshall skimmed over his work and began to notice some of the lines he had said. He had shit in there about gays and lesbians and rapeing people and shit. Dre was going to kick him out as soon as he heard this. He walked into the booth and got himself set up with a mic check before he gave Dre a thumbs up to start the beat so they could do just a quick run through. He tried not to look up. For the first verse he kept his eyes down on the pad. He didn't want to see Dre's reaction. Outside of his vision he could see Dre moving and he couldn't help but look up. When he looked up he saw Dre standing at the board dying of laughter. Marshall was confused.
Was he laughing at him?
"When I was little I use to get so hungry I would throw fits. How you gonna breast feed me mom you ain't got no tits?"
As he said this line he saw Dre having to lean down close the board because he was laughing so hard. Wait. He thought he was funny? He thought he was funny! By the end of the song Dre was wiping tears from his eyes. Dre pressed the button that allowed for him to be heard inside the booth.
"Hey I hope you don't mind but I actually recorded all that. Sometimes the first take has some rawness that can be used for the actual song."
They spent the rest of their evening recording the song to its entirety. The only thing left to do was have Dre mix and master it while adding little sound effects and shit like that to make it perfect. They sat and listened to the raw copy of the song, even unedited it was the best song he had made so far. At least in terms of quality. Dre began to bring up marketing and him needing to come up with a look to separate Slim Shady from Eminem. On the topic of looks Marshall brought up the elephant in the room.
"You really think people will like it?"
"Are you kidding? The lines are hard. The shit's funny as all hell. It's gonna be a hit."
"But what about... you know." He said while looking down at his hands.
Dre sighed and leaned back. "I dunno. I really don't. To be honest, I didn't realize you were white until you walked in. I don't care though. And if you're as good as I think you are, other people shouldn't care either.... maybe that's it. Maybe we'll just let your song play, wait for everyone to get hooked on it, then reveal what you look like... I still have to run all this through the management and Interscope and all that shit. If they decide to block me off then I don't really have a say in it."
This worried him. He always sounded good on audio but once higher ups realized what race he was, it was over. The two talked for a bit longer before Dre had to let him go so that he could do dinner with his family. The sheaffer took him back to his hotel. He made his way back to his suite and decided to order himself room service and something to drink. He initially felt bad about it but then thought that Dre surely wouldn't mind it. He took a shower while waiting for the food. After it got there he ate and watched TV while he waited for Kim to call him. He was excited to tell her about everything and how well the day went. He thought about just how good it would be if he DID land this deal. But like Dre said, it was kinda up to corporate. His thoughts were interrupted by the hotel phone ringing. He quickly got up to answer it.
"Hey babe." Marshall said while answering the phone
"Damn. One day and you're already calling me 'babe' huh?" He heard Dre laugh on the other end of the phone call.
"I thought Kim was calling."
"Uh huh. Sure. Anyways what time is your flight tomorrow?"
"Like 4:15, 4:30."
"Aight so let's see... 4:30, you gotta get there by 3, then account for traffic... how's brunch sound? I'll pick you up at 11 so we have time chill and eat. Then I'll take you to the airport."
"Damn. Okay cool. Thank you."
"Yeah no problem. Be ready by 11."
He hung up the phone, kim called soon after. They talked through the day as he ate. He stayed on the phone for hours. He laid his clothes out for the next day and packed the rest before heading to bed.
He got up at about 10 so that he'd have time to get ready. He got a call from Dre at around 10:30 saying that he'd pull up to valet at 11 to pick him up. He got ready and made sure all of his stuff was packed and ready to go. He headed to the lobby at about 10:50 in case Dre was early. He pulled up at about 11 in a white Corvette. He opened the trunk so he could put his bags in there. He hopped into the passenger side of the vette and looked around at the cars interior.
"Pretty nice right? Paparazzi are always swarming LAX so I thought it'd be fun to show off. Give it a week and you'll be able to find pics of us rolling up in it. Then you can show off a bit."
They talked as they drove down to a nice brunch spot in downtown LA. They were quickly seated and given menus. Marshall couldn't believe the prices. Dre ensured him that price didn't matter and that he could get whatever he liked. He found a platter full of all the basics like biscuits and gravy, pancakes, bacon, etc. Dre decided on getting the same thing. They each got coffee paired with it and waited on their meals. He excused himself to use the restroom real quick before their food came. When he came back he saw Dre sitting there with his check book.
"You gonna pay the bill with a check?"
"Huh? No I got my credit card on me."
Dre tore out a check and handed it to him. He took the check cautiously and looked to see that it was a $10,000 check made out to him.
"What's this for!? I thought you said that we had to wait for the higher ups to decide if I'm signed or not. I haven't even signed anything yet."
"Oh that's not your signing bonus."
"Then what is it?"
"... I dunno. An advance I guess?"
"Why?"
"You really wanna question me giving you money?"
"Dre I can't afford to take a loan from you."
"I know you can't. And it's not a loan. I'm giving it to you."
"I can't accept this."
"Why not?"
"It's a lot of money."
"Not to me it's not. If you're going to work for me I gotta ensure that you're well fed and shit like shit. Gotta make sure you and your family are straight ya know?"
"I... I don't... thank you."
"Don't even mention it."
Shortly after, their food came. They talked and got to know each other better as they ate. A lot of laughs were passed back and fourth even after they were done eating. Before they knew it it was time for them to head to the airport. Dre paid and the took the vette to the drop off terminal at LAX. As Dre expected, paparazzi were quick to congregate when they saw his car. Dre got out and helped him get his bags.
"Alright well..." Marshall said "thank you for bringing me."
"Yeah it's no problem. It'd be easier than us trying to get you a sheaffer and whatever to get you from the restaurant to here on time."
"Yeah I guess so huh?"
"Well... I'll keep you updated on how everything goes and I guess where we go from here. Give me a few days and I'll call you."
"Yeah okay that sounds good."
They both started like they were going to shake hands but instead they pulled each other in for a quick hug. Dre checked his watch and looked towards the doors of the airport before looking back at the line of cars.
"I should probably get out of the way before someone yells at me." He joked "Take care of yourself Marshall, and call me if you need anything."
"Yeah alright I will." He said as he got his back situated.
"No. Really. If you need anything, just call me."
"I will. Thank you."
"I'll call you in a few days, be careful getting home."
"You too."
Dre smiled at him and got back into his car. He waved at him before heading for the entrance. Dre's car took off as he walked in to check his bags. He got through security, waited for about an hour, then boarded his plane. First class again. He probably shouldn't get use to it but he was going to enjoy it while it lasted. Dre had bought him meal vouchers with his plane ticket so that he could eat while on his flight. Dre really wanted to make sure he says fed huh? He pulled the check out of his wallet and inspected it:
For: 'Marshall Mathers' amount: '$10,000.00' memo: 'because I can'
He laughed to himself as he read the memo. Dre seems like a pretty alright guy. The had done a lot for him in just the past day alone and he really hoped it worked out. Even if it didn't, he still felt like he and Dre had clicked. Maybe he could keep him around as an engineer or something. After eating the meal he had ordered on his plane he slept the entire rest of the way home. He was glad to step foot back in Detroit but he kinda missed hanging out with Dre. He'd hopefully see him again. He tried not too think to much about it as he came down the airport escalator and saw his two girls waiting for him. Everything was gonna be alright.