Tell Your Friends [Martin Garrix]

Chapter 2 | ✓

Miami welcomes me with rain and cold wind. The cold wind blows harshly at my face, making my eyes water. I wrap my arms around my body, as I always do when I get cold.

I catch a taxi and tell the driver to drive to my hotel, which is not far away from where Ultra takes place. While slowly driving from the airport, I got a chance to look at Miami itself. I wish it would become sunny, because Miami doesn't look too good when it's raining.

The palm leaves are nearly torn off high palms due to strong wind. I hate wind. It makes everything seem dangerous and dramatic. Streets are quite empty and that is unusual, people should be everywhere - it's Ultra tomorrow.

The taxi drives up to the hotel and I pay the driver. The hotel is a huge building with a lot of windows and tall palm-trees growing upwards.

I walk up to the reception and tell the receptionist my name. She slowly types up my name on an old computer. Her long hot-pink nails annoyingly click against the keyboard. She smiles with a fake smile, as she hands me the card.

Silently, I move through the long corridors. The red carpets on the floor muffle every step I take, making me feel like a silent ninja creeping along the long corridors. While unlocking my door, I wonder what my room looks like.

Fortunately, it's better than I expected.  A king-sized bed stands opposite the wide window, overlooking the amazing view of the pool, the sea and palms. Putting my suitcase on the special stand, I decide to unpack.

In the evening, I take a walk. I haven't  gotten a chance to see what the area looks like, so I guess I'll do it now.

It's cold and very dark out in the streets, so I nearly dive into the nearest pub.  It's very loud in here, probably because of a football match shown on the large TV. People are cheering, while taking gulps from their glasses.

I sit down at a small table right in the corner, so no one would see me. It's a habit I've gotten from being friends with Marcus and the others - whenever I'm alone, I always hide from people. 

A short, happy-looking waitress comes up to me, asking if I would like any drinks or snacks.

"No, thanks, " I answer and she goes to the next table.  I did have alcohol before, a lot of it. I don't see the coolness of it now. Everyone thinks it's cool and fun, but it's not, it never was. 

Sydney was the one who introduced me to alcohol. I remember sitting with her at her house, while her parents were gone. We were chatting about school and holidays and our future. Unexpectedly, she took out a cigarette and stood up.

She walked to the kitchen and opened the cupboard. I saw a whole load of bottles standing there. Without saying any word, she took out two glasses and filled them with a brownish liquid.

"Drink it," she said, giving me the glass. I took it, but never drank from it. Sydney just slowly sipped from her cup, facing me. I could see the change of temper in her eyes: from sad to more happy. The truth is, alcohol didn't make you happy. It was the opposite.

''Are you deaf or something?'' she asked again. Taking another gulp.

''No,'' I answered, putting the cup down. ''I don't want to start drinking.''

''It doesn't depend on you.''

''Yes it does, I choose what to do.''

''And what do you choose?''

''Staying off from alcohol and getting a normal life.''

''So,'' she licked her lips, after saying that, ''you are saying that I am not having a normal life, because I drink.''