It was late at night when Eminem woke up in his own bed, the frantic ringing of his phone in his ears.
His head was still groggy, and his vision was blurry with double images.
"OMG! My head hurts so much. It must be the lingering effects of the alcohol and drugs."
The annoyance of being woken up made him want to smash his phone, but seeing that it was his agent calling, he suppressed his temper and answered.
"Paul, what is it? Don't you see what time it is, for f*ck's sake?"
Hearing Eminem's agitated voice, his agent, Paul Rosenberg, angrily retorted, "Are you drinking and doing drugs again? Didn't I warn you, you can't keep doing this, Eminem!"
"Stop talking nonsense. If you have something to say, say it quickly. I need to sleep; my head is killing me right now."
"Eminem, I'm talking about important matters concerning your future and health. Drugs and alcohol will not only ruin your mind but also destroy your body. You can't keep spiraling down like this."
But someone already addicted to drugs wouldn't easily listen to others, especially Eminem; he wasn't called a 'thug' for nothing.
Eminem's voice was very impatient: "I've said it many times, it's none of your business! If there's nothing, I'm hanging up!"
"Wait, don't hang up! Your body is your own business. What I want to talk about is the song; our strategy worked."
"What?" Eminem's groggy mind couldn't fully process it.
"I said our hype strategy worked. Michael Jackson's discussion rate is really high; insulting him was truly the right choice. Now your new song's ranking on the Billboard charts is soaring."
Eminem punched his own head a few times before he started to clear up a bit.
"You called me in the middle of the night just to tell me this? Is there something wrong with your head? This was expected a long time ago; otherwise, why would I specifically insult Jackson?"
"No, that's just one thing. What I want to tell you is that Jackson's supporters are starting to fight back now. Many people are criticizing you, and reporters will definitely be staking you out. What you need to do is control your mouth; let me answer everything, understand?"
"Paul, do you think I'm a child? This strategy of insulting people isn't the first time I've used it. I know what to do; I'm already well-versed."
"Alright, anyway, this time it's Michael Jackson. He's not on the same level as the people you've insulted before. Remember, you absolutely must not speak carelessly!"
Beep, beep.
Paul Rosenberg wanted to emphasize a few more points, but the call had already been disconnected. A surge of unidentifiable anger welled up, making him throw his phone onto the bed in frustration.
"This damn guy, if it weren't for your talent, if it weren't for the successful packaging, do you think I'd put up with this?"
On the bed, the woman hit by the phone opened her eyes: "Paul, what are you doing? Who are you yelling at?"
Paul Rosenberg gulped down half a bottle of water and fumed, "Who else could it be? Of course, it's that son of a b*tch Eminem! He's already in his thirties, but his mind is still like a teenage street thug."
"Did he make you angry again?"
"When does this guy not make me angry! He's a huge problem, causing more trouble than those black rapper guys!"
"But he makes you money."
"Yes, but that's all that's left."
The sun returned to the earth, and a good night's sleep finally allowed Eminem to temporarily escape the torment of his headache. He washed his face and left his house.
As soon as he got into his car, many reporters who had been waiting there for a long time rushed out.
Everyone knew Eminem was a troublemaker, and following him often led to news, so there were always many people staking out his house, but today there were an unusually high number.
Pulling open the car door, Eminem simply got out of the driver's seat to accept interviews. He liked and enjoyed the feeling of being watched; it made him feel full of strength and confidence.
"Hey! Benny, Charlie, come closer; you won't hear what I'm saying if you're too far."
Smiling, he waved at the familiar reporters to come closer. As for his agent's instructions from last night, they had long been forgotten. The combined effects of alcohol and drugs could easily make one disoriented; in his mind, it might have been just a dream.
"Eminem, many people are criticizing your new single right now. Are you deliberately insulting Michael Jackson?"
Eminem snorted: "Of course not. I don't want to insult anyone. This is just my song style; I've always been like this!"
"So what do you think of the criticism? Especially Eric Cooper's criticism?"
"Eric Cooper, who is this guy? What did he say?" Eminem blurted out.
"Eric Cooper is a supporter of Jackson. He cursed you, calling you a mad dog who only bites indiscriminately, saying you're trying to use Jackson's fame to hype yourself up and boost song sales, and that you're just a pathetic kid exploiting your unfortunate childhood to gain sympathy."
The reporters relayed Eric's interview words from yesterday to Eminem verbatim. For a young thug like him, every word felt like real damage.
Especially the attack about his childhood, which made Eminem feel like his lungs were about to explode with anger.
At this moment, a Truth Daily reporter, enjoying the spectacle, pulled out a freshly printed newspaper and handed it over: "Eminem, perhaps you can read the report first, and then answer the questions."
Eminem didn't take the newspaper, but he glanced at it and still saw the large headline.
"The longer I interact with people, the more I like dogs. Dogs are always dogs; people sometimes are truly not people!"
Under the influence of alcohol and drugs, the anger he had been able to suppress instantly erupted, and Eminem began to curse foully.
F-words continuously spewed from his mouth, and his expression became distorted and manic.
Seeing a black reporter holding a camera, he rushed straight up to snatch it.
"What are you recording! I said what are you recording! Stop f*cking recording! FXXX!"
The scene instantly became chaotic, but even so, some reporters continued to provoke: "Eminem, Eric Cooper said you are a racist. Are you really?"
"FXXX! Stop filming, get out, get out of my territory!"
Just then, a car quickly approached, and his agent, Paul Rosenberg, hurriedly jumped out of the car. Despite his haste, the worst thing he wanted to see had still happened.
He rushed into the crowd, pulled Eminem out, and shouted, "Eminem is not giving interviews right now. I will answer any questions."
Eminem, however, was still waving his fists and shouting curses until his agent glared at him fiercely: "Go back, Eminem!"
Huff, huff.
After a few deep breaths, the young thug's brain finally reconnected. Thinking about his recent behavior, he immediately felt immense remorse and slunk back into his house.
Paparazzi, of course, dared not trespass on private property and could only point their microphones at Paul Rosenberg, repeating the questions from earlier.
Rosenberg's face was grim: "No, Eminem has never had any ill intentions; he respects Michael Jackson very much."
"What hype? Of course, we are not hyping, nor do we need to hype. Eminem's talent is evident to all; he is the first rapper to win an Oscar."
"Eric Cooper's comments are absurd, and we express our dissatisfaction and regret. Clearly, this white elite does not understand hip-hop, nor does he understand what rap is."
"His remarks are infuriating, and we reserve the right to pursue legal action."
"Alright, that's enough, gentlemen. Eminem is a singer; it's impossible to defeat him through words and public opinion. If you want to prove Eminem wrong, then bring out your music and let's settle it!"
After speaking, Paul Rosenberg no longer paid attention to the reporters. After knocking on the door, he unleashed a torrent of scolding.
"Eminem, are you f*cking crazy? I warned you not to talk nonsense, and every time you say the wrong thing, I have to clean up your mess!"
Eminem rarely lowered his head: "Sorry, Paul, what about those people outside?"
"I don't know what you said, and I don't know how they will report it, but you must stick to one thing: that in music, the music itself determines superiority."
"From now on, don't bring up any unfortunate childhood stories, and definitely don't say anything racist, otherwise no one can save you, understand?"
"Understood. When it comes to music, I won't lose to anyone, not even Michael Jackson. Besides, that pedophile is currently embroiled in lawsuits and has no energy to create. I've already won!"
"Good to know, Eminem. You must quit alcohol and drugs, otherwise, you will be finished one day! Think about your daughter; don't keep going down this path!"
Entertainment news has always been the most popular among the public. From Eminem's new song release the day before yesterday to Eric's direct rant yesterday, both online and offline communities exploded.
As MJ's lawsuit had not yet gone to court, many people still believed the child molestation allegations were true, with opinions roughly split down the middle.
Therefore, the number of people criticizing him online was roughly equal to those supporting him.
Supporters said Eminem was genuine, daring to curse and confront, doing what others dared not.
Those who cursed him, however, said he was grasping at straws, fabricating facts, and showing no respect for his senior.
After Eric's interview came out, those who cursed him simply referred to Eminem as a 'mad dog'.
Labels like exploiting childhood suffering, racism, an immature brat, and an uncultured hooligan were all plastered onto him.
The main battlefield this time was not MGM's official website, but the official website and forum of Eminem's record label, Aftermath, where all kinds of profanity flooded the screens.
After two days of fighting, the intensity of the verbal war between the two sides had subsided somewhat, mainly because everyone was waiting for Eminem's reaction. Everyone knew he wasn't someone who would take insults lying down.
Sure enough, right after lunch, around 1 PM, media outlets gradually released Eminem's interview.
Eminem's supporters had hoped to see his sharp counterattack, but instead found that their idol in the video was completely a violent maniac and a lunatic.
His snarling appearance was exactly as Eric Cooper had described, no different from a mad dog.
Especially when Eric's interview video was shown for comparison, a strong contrast was formed: one was logical and even elegant in his insults, while the other merely barked madly.
In terms of looks, Eric surpassed Eminem tenfold.
In terms of status, Eric crushed Eminem.
In terms of financial resources, the two were incomparable.
Only when it came to talent, Eric's works had not yet been released, so he was somewhat weaker in this aspect.
As soon as this comparison came out, some teenagers who had initially sided with Eminem quietly withdrew, and many young girls even secretly switched allegiances, becoming Eric's supporters.
America is like this, or rather, the whole world is like this: people with good looks, money, and taste have always attracted the attention and admiration of young people.
Otherwise, why is Wang Sicong so popular? And why are so many people keen on flaunting their wealth?
The key point is that Eric is young enough, a full 10 years younger than Eminem, so in the eyes of young girls, his charm naturally completely overshadows the thug.
Some people quietly withdrew, some changed their minds, and the rest were speechless.
If their leader was so disappointing, how could they charge forward?
It wasn't until Paul Rosenberg's final statement, "Let's settle it with music," that these haters found their footing again.
No matter how others cursed, their retort was simply that musicians should compete with music. If Jackson had the guts, he could release a song and curse back.
But everyone knew that MJ simply didn't have the time or energy to focus on new songs. Last year's "Invincible" had not met sales expectations, and he was now deeply mired in scandal.
Eminem's supporters were well aware of this and gleefully used it to taunt, mocking MJ as outdated and an old monster whose halo should have faded long ago.
And just when everyone thought MJ wouldn't accept the challenge, he publicly accepted an interview with Fox Television.
"Michael, there has been constant discussion about you recently. Some people curse you, some support you. Is there anything you'd like to say?" the host asked.
Michael answered calmly: "I don't want to explain anymore; the law will clear my name. My trial will be soon, and everyone is welcome to follow it."
"So, you believe you are absolutely innocent?"
"That's right. I have never done anything illegal, not before, and not ever will."
"Okay, everyone will remember your words today. Let's wait and see."
"Next question, regarding Eminem's new song. The internet has been in an uproar about it for the past two days. What are your thoughts?"
Michael shook his head slightly: "It's nothing more than a trick by a boring child. He wants attention, like a child shouting 'give me candy,' the difference being that he's not cute."
"Hahahaha."
The host immediately laughed.
"So what about his challenge, the musical duel?"
"Very well, I accept!"
"What?"
"I said I accept the challenge."
Hearing this answer, the host was somewhat surprised. This interview had a last-minute guest change, and there was no script at all. MJ's answer was truly unexpected.
"Michael, do you have time to record a new song now?"
"Of course, in fact, I've already recorded it, and it will be released soon."
"OMG! This is truly big news. Can you reveal the song's content?" the host eagerly asked.
Michael nodded gently: "This song describes my state of mind, including some painful struggles. The lyrics come from my good friend."
"Who is it?"
"Eric Cooper!"
Host: "Ah? (Confused face)"