Garrix & Me (Martin Garrix Fanfiction)

Chapter 57

i love you all so much. it's been like a year and a half, i'm sorry. here is a chapter, there will be more. just to say merry christmas and that i appreciate all of you very, very much. i know i have probably lost a lot of readers along the way - even so, this is for all the new readers too who want to know how this story ends. i know it's frustrating! anyway, please enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. comment how much you hate me (lol) and vote if you liked this. thanks to all of you for staying, if you have. again, i love you. :)

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MAY 14, SUMMER - THE FOLLOWING YEAR

Fran's POV 

The loveliest thing about life in a place I haven't been in in a while is that it sometimes stays exactly the way I left it. It's like walking into your bedroom after a night out, everything is in disarray after you wrestled your way around looking for clothes people haven't already seen you in, but the mess is exactly as it should be, as you made it. In much the same fashion, there is always something about home that is inexplicably inherent to finding a sense of balance. It's as if home is a divine entity itself, which having lived in my shoes my entire life, is something I'd missed out on believing in. For some retrieval of hope and security, people always return home. It's like dopamine - dopamine you never get addicted to. Still, Amsterdam is my home, a home I have long since visited. And there is no feeling like the feeling of arriving at a place after a long time. Everything is vaguely new, but still familiar, and the contrast can be mood dampening or melancholic, even somewhat fulfilling, but it's always relative - relative to the time you spent away. It's like everything you do from the moment you set foot and try to regain your balance, is tinged with an expectancy for all to be well in the world. And with expectancy comes damning uncertainty; something that pulls you out of the dream and snaps you back to reality.

The bell hanging above the glass door jingles as I enter the old record store. The room smells of dust and forgotten things. The young boy at the counter offers me a weak smile, only looking up for a few seconds before lazily returning his attention to the tattered Tolstoy classic in his hands. I make my way toward the untidy shelves at the back which, almost impossibly, manage to store hundreds of old records. I look around noticing I am the only customer. I run my fingers across the thin cardboard casings, most of which are torn or damaged but in tact. I have a vague idea of what I am looking for - Stevie Nicks or Pink Floyd. It's all Martin listens to these days, and given that I am a horrible person who is mostly late on everything, it's the quickest but most thoughtful gift I could think of. Anyway, what does one buy for a guy who has everything? I finally find a record version of the 1991 release of Timespace: The Best of Stevie Nicks. It's in just the right condition and without thinking twice, I pay and leave the store quickly. 

"Happy birthday to you!" Everyone chimes the last line of the song before the rich sound of laughter and applause fills the room. Julian whistles loudly, making his way to the large counter top behind which Martin stands, grinning like a child waiting for his slice of cake.

"Make a wish, idiot!" Anne says loudly, as Martin leans forward to blow out the candles. 

Martin stops, surprised, before shutting his eyes tightly for a second. When he opens them, he looks at someone to his right and winks, before letting out a quick burst of air. The faint, oddly pleasant smell of burnt out candles whisks around and everyone claps once more as Martin gets a massive slice of red velvet cake smashed into almost every crevice of his beaming face. Licking his fingers, she joins him at the counter and his eyes radiate light. He plants a long smooch on her cheek, holding her tightly to himself while she tries to wriggle away from the red icing both their faces now share. It's a warm moment that is lost to everyone else but I am glad to have noticed it.