Eminem grumbled as he walked into the Waffle House. The last thing on this earth that he wanted to do with his life was be a mentor to some guy from AA. Just because he had graduated from the program didn’t mean he wanted to be any part of it now. Looking around the restaurant, he tried to locate the guy that the lady on the phone had described. `Fucking-A there’s a lot of people here,’ he thought. Em shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. He hoped no one recognized him here. `Why the hell would I want to be a mentor? Why the fuck did I agree to this?’ Sighing again, he looked around. “Tall guy, blond hair, blue eyes,” he muttered underneath his breath. “Healthy build… blond hair…. fuck where is he?”
“Excuse me, sir?” the waitress interrupted.
Em wheeled around on her. “Yeah?”
“Are you looking for someone?” Em gave the woman a once over. Her name tag said Marjorie.
“Yeah. A guy. Tall, blond hair, blue eyes, healthy build?”
Marjorie smiled and pointed him towards the corner where a man in a blue hoodie was sitting, drinking out of a classic Waffle House mug. Eminem nodded his thanks and stalked over to the guy in the corner. He stood at the end of the table until the guy looked up.
Big blue eyes looked up at the menacing rapper. Blond hair peeked out from underneath the hood of his sweatshirt. “Fuck,” blue eyes whispered.
“Carter?!” Eminem whispered back in a venomous hush.
Nick Carter got out his wallet and threw some bills on the table. “Nevermind.”
Eminem pushed him back down when he made the attempt to get up. “Sit your ass back down. I want to hear this.” Em sat across from Nick, a devilish smile on his face.
“I don’t need you,” Nick spit back.
“Well then why did I get a call from your sponsor saying you needed a mentor that was on your level?” The waitress brought Em a coffee and he put sugar and cream into it.
Nick bit his bottom lip. “I don’t know why she called. I’m not an alcoholic.”
“No of course not. They let you graduate?” he laughed. Nick bit his bottom lip harder. Em almost swore the kid was going to draw blood soon. “Look, kid, I’m kidding. I’m not here to make fun of you. It was just a surprise to see your Goddamn face under that hood.”
Carter sighed. “What the fuck do you want me to say? I didn’t want to be here, I still don’t want to be here. I just lied my way through AA to get out, ok? I don’t have a problem. I just have a DUI.”
Eminem just nodded. He knew the story. He’d been there before. “That’s fine. Maybe these meetings will just let me get more material for my next album then.”
Nick snorted and stood up. He threw a small card at the rapper. “Call me for your next meeting. I’ll think about answering.” With that, he slid out of the booth and left the restaurant. Eminem picked up the card and eyed the phone number. Hell this was going to be one long ass mentorship.