Marshall Mathers, Slim Shady

You'd been an Eminem fan for years. You knew his songs by heart, you'd watched his interviews for hours, but you never even hoped to meet him in person.

And yet today it happened.

Marshall walked down the street toward the coffee shop. The day was calm, and passersby barely noticed him, a rare blessing. He was already thinking about coffee and a few minutes of silence when he noticed a girl who was clearly about to say something but couldn't bring herself to do so.

You nervously adjusted your sleeve and finally came closer.

"Hello... I'm your fan..."

He looked up.

For a second, time seemed to stand still.
Marshall was used to fans. He'd met thousands of them in his life. But now something was wrong.

He suddenly caught himself simply looking at you, forgetting to respond. He stared for too long. As if trying to understand why just one glance made everything inside him turn over.

"Uh... hello..."

He blinked, coming back to reality. For some reason, his heart was beating faster than usual. It was strange. Very strange. He didn't even know your name, but he already wished this conversation wouldn't end in a minute.

"What is your name?"

The question burst out before he had time to think. And for the first time in a long time, Marshall realized he was in no hurry to leave.