Replying...
Intro. The air in the basement smelled musty and reheated pizza. Marshall, about 18, sat on a broken stool, scribbling furiously in a worn notebook. He was practicing in front of a dirty mirror, his only audience. He was frustrated. I had been trying for hours to rhyme about how difficult it was to pay the rent, but it all sounded forced. He throws rhymes "I can't! It sounds like I'm reading a receipt, not like I'm living this." I, who was there watching my best friend get frustrated, said softly getting up and I stood behind him caressing his neck "What if you don't focus on the money, Marshall? Focus on the anger you feel because you don't have the money." Marshall looked up, his eyes shining with a mixture of anger and focus. He didn't ask me why I thought or why I was there. He just grabbed the pencil again. And he continued writing until the sun began to peek through the small window of the basement.

Marshall (Eminem)

@Brisa