Whatever You Say
folder
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Eminem/Marshall Mathers
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
5,151
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Eminem/Marshall Mathers
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
5,151
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. I do not know Eminem (Marshall Mathers). I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Whatever You Say
Okay- first attempt. Be nice!
~Chapter One~
*Why me?* Christina Aguilera thought, sighing as she once again pressed the play button. She was an attractive, intelligent twenty-three year old woman, and she was working on a Saturday night. Her manager had insisted that her latest track, 'Heartbreaker', be on his desk by eight o'clock Tuesday night, causing Christina and her producer, Ron Fair, to work twice as fast on the classic song. Including after-hours, even on the weekend.
"Hey Ron, I'm going to go down and get some coffee. I'll be back in about half an hour. Need anything?" She asked, pulling on her hooded sweatshirt.
"It takes you thirty minutes to get coffee, Chris?" He questioned in his 'stern' tone.
"By the time I get down to the cafeteria, wait in line, pay, find a seat, drink the coffee, and walk all the way back up here, yes." She explained. "Now, do you want anything?"
"I'm fine, thanks. Hurry, okay?" He said.
Heading out the door, she tossed a quick "Whatever." over her shoulder. Making her way slowly through Interscope Studios, she reflected on how she had gotten here. Being called in by Irving had been a pain in the ass, especially when he had set the deadline. She'd caught a plane from Pittsburgh to L.A. on Thursday afternoon, trying to avoid crowds of fans and curious journalists. She had been ushered from the airport to her hotel, and from her hotel to RCA. Unfortunately, there had been some kind of technical difficulties and Christina spent the rest of the day getting her hair dyed blonde. Friday morning she had awoken to an order to be at Interscope to record. Until one-thirty in the morning Friday and all day on Saturday, she had been hard at work.
Arriving at the cafeteria, she made her way to the back of the rather short line. She rolled her eyes as the woman behind her chatted incessantly in Japanese, half of her tired mind wanting to tell the woman to forget about her ruined one-of-a-kind Prada bag and buy a knock off for $45 at JC Penny's. Christina smiled to herself, turned to move forward, and froze.
Right in front of her was the one person she did NOT want to see while she was working on her new song. The person that was arrogant, argumentative, blonde, and a downright annoying pain in Christina's ass. Also known as Britney Spears.
"Christina? Is that you?" She squealed. **No, Shitney, I'm a look-a-like. Hmm... I wonder if she'd buy that?**
"Hey, Brit. How are you?" She forced out. **Self, you are a coward.**
"I'm great! Congrats on the success of 'Stripped.' It did okay, right?" Bey sey said sweetly. **Oh, girrrrrrlllll...**
"Of course, 'In the Zone' is doing very well. 'Toxic' is a huge hit, I can see it already." She continued.
"Yeah, anyways Britney, what are you here for?" Christina asked, hoping to draw the attention away from the talentless woman's career.
"Oh, I'm doing a collaboration with Steven Tyler." Britney boasted.
"No kidding? Who'd you have to blow to land that deal?" Christina thou- no, said. **Oh, damn.**
Christina heard a deep chuckle from behind her. Turning around, she saw that Ms. Prada Bag had left and been replaced with yet another arrogant, argumentative, blonde, downright pain in her ass. His name was Marshall Bruce Mathers the Third, but he was known to the worlld as Eminem or Slim Shady.
"Oh, not you." She said in a pained voice.
"But it is me, Aguilera. Aren't you happy to see me?" He taunted.
"No, I'd ra-" She started..
"EXCUSE me! I would like to talk about your little comment, Christina. I think you were suggesting that I got the part by, um, doing something that I would never in a billion years do. I am a VIRGIN, I am pure and innocent-" Britney interrupted.
"And full of shit." Slim finished for her. "So go away."
Britney gave him a huffy look of disbelief and stormed away. Christina smirked, then glanced at the clock. **Oh, Christ.**
"Well, sorry to cut this little reunion short and all that, but I've got to run. Deadlines, ya know." She explained in a faux-apologetic tone. She turned to go but was stopped by his had on her a
"Actually, you owe me." Eminem stated. **What on God's green Earth?**
"What the hell are you talking about, Shady?" Christina asked, confused.
"I got rid of Bitchney Spears. You need to make it up to me. It's only fair." He said.
"You're joking. You cannot possibly believe I would do anything you want me to." She was getting a little nervous.
"I want you to come to Hailie's birthday party. She's mildly obsessed wit you, and has been bugging me for two years to let her meet you. So, to repay me for dealing wit Spears, you gotta come." He reasoned.
"Okay, whatever. Call me and tell me when it is, okay. I gotta go." She said.
"See ya around, ho."
"Bye, fag!" She chirped back.
On the way back up to her studio, instead of missing the coffee she had never gotten, Christina Aguilera thought about how maybe Shady wasn't as bad as she has assumed.
~OS~
~Chapter One~
*Why me?* Christina Aguilera thought, sighing as she once again pressed the play button. She was an attractive, intelligent twenty-three year old woman, and she was working on a Saturday night. Her manager had insisted that her latest track, 'Heartbreaker', be on his desk by eight o'clock Tuesday night, causing Christina and her producer, Ron Fair, to work twice as fast on the classic song. Including after-hours, even on the weekend.
"Hey Ron, I'm going to go down and get some coffee. I'll be back in about half an hour. Need anything?" She asked, pulling on her hooded sweatshirt.
"It takes you thirty minutes to get coffee, Chris?" He questioned in his 'stern' tone.
"By the time I get down to the cafeteria, wait in line, pay, find a seat, drink the coffee, and walk all the way back up here, yes." She explained. "Now, do you want anything?"
"I'm fine, thanks. Hurry, okay?" He said.
Heading out the door, she tossed a quick "Whatever." over her shoulder. Making her way slowly through Interscope Studios, she reflected on how she had gotten here. Being called in by Irving had been a pain in the ass, especially when he had set the deadline. She'd caught a plane from Pittsburgh to L.A. on Thursday afternoon, trying to avoid crowds of fans and curious journalists. She had been ushered from the airport to her hotel, and from her hotel to RCA. Unfortunately, there had been some kind of technical difficulties and Christina spent the rest of the day getting her hair dyed blonde. Friday morning she had awoken to an order to be at Interscope to record. Until one-thirty in the morning Friday and all day on Saturday, she had been hard at work.
Arriving at the cafeteria, she made her way to the back of the rather short line. She rolled her eyes as the woman behind her chatted incessantly in Japanese, half of her tired mind wanting to tell the woman to forget about her ruined one-of-a-kind Prada bag and buy a knock off for $45 at JC Penny's. Christina smiled to herself, turned to move forward, and froze.
Right in front of her was the one person she did NOT want to see while she was working on her new song. The person that was arrogant, argumentative, blonde, and a downright annoying pain in Christina's ass. Also known as Britney Spears.
"Christina? Is that you?" She squealed. **No, Shitney, I'm a look-a-like. Hmm... I wonder if she'd buy that?**
"Hey, Brit. How are you?" She forced out. **Self, you are a coward.**
"I'm great! Congrats on the success of 'Stripped.' It did okay, right?" Bey sey said sweetly. **Oh, girrrrrrlllll...**
"Of course, 'In the Zone' is doing very well. 'Toxic' is a huge hit, I can see it already." She continued.
"Yeah, anyways Britney, what are you here for?" Christina asked, hoping to draw the attention away from the talentless woman's career.
"Oh, I'm doing a collaboration with Steven Tyler." Britney boasted.
"No kidding? Who'd you have to blow to land that deal?" Christina thou- no, said. **Oh, damn.**
Christina heard a deep chuckle from behind her. Turning around, she saw that Ms. Prada Bag had left and been replaced with yet another arrogant, argumentative, blonde, downright pain in her ass. His name was Marshall Bruce Mathers the Third, but he was known to the worlld as Eminem or Slim Shady.
"Oh, not you." She said in a pained voice.
"But it is me, Aguilera. Aren't you happy to see me?" He taunted.
"No, I'd ra-" She started..
"EXCUSE me! I would like to talk about your little comment, Christina. I think you were suggesting that I got the part by, um, doing something that I would never in a billion years do. I am a VIRGIN, I am pure and innocent-" Britney interrupted.
"And full of shit." Slim finished for her. "So go away."
Britney gave him a huffy look of disbelief and stormed away. Christina smirked, then glanced at the clock. **Oh, Christ.**
"Well, sorry to cut this little reunion short and all that, but I've got to run. Deadlines, ya know." She explained in a faux-apologetic tone. She turned to go but was stopped by his had on her a
"Actually, you owe me." Eminem stated. **What on God's green Earth?**
"What the hell are you talking about, Shady?" Christina asked, confused.
"I got rid of Bitchney Spears. You need to make it up to me. It's only fair." He said.
"You're joking. You cannot possibly believe I would do anything you want me to." She was getting a little nervous.
"I want you to come to Hailie's birthday party. She's mildly obsessed wit you, and has been bugging me for two years to let her meet you. So, to repay me for dealing wit Spears, you gotta come." He reasoned.
"Okay, whatever. Call me and tell me when it is, okay. I gotta go." She said.
"See ya around, ho."
"Bye, fag!" She chirped back.
On the way back up to her studio, instead of missing the coffee she had never gotten, Christina Aguilera thought about how maybe Shady wasn't as bad as she has assumed.
~OS~