Tell Your Friends [Martin Garrix]

Chapter 23

Getting out of the cab, I thank the driver and slam the door shut behind my back. There are loads of people around me, chatting, yelling or just talking on the phone loudly, creating a large commotion. No wonder they call Times Square one of the most crowded places in the world, probably after places in  China, Japan and India. 

The soles of my white Converse hit the concrete silently, as I rush to the meeting place. My eyes eye the crowd nervously, hoping and praying not to notice somebody familiar. Brushing my palm against the leather handbag, which is hanging from my shoulder, I look around. 

I told him to meet me opposite a cafe, so we could go inside and have at least some privacy while talking, however not too much. Although I don't want anybody to eavesdrop on our discussion, I also don't want to be left alone with Daniel - nobody knows what he will do. 

Times Square is busy and crowded, as always. Many are rushing in different directions, clutching their briefcases and handbags tightly in their hands. Others are just taking a stroll around, lazily eyeing the crowd, watching everyone hurry around them. 

Street artists play their songs, as well as dancers dance to the music. It might all seem crazy to someone, who has never lived in New York, but to me - it's all familiar and normal. I can't count the times I've walked here either with my friends, or tugged along with my parents, who always rushed on to an important business meeting. 

When I was young and looked upon the world from a different, smaller perspective, Times Square seemed frightening and troublesome. I thought it was a place for beggars, who followed you with their gaze, just to get their coin; of thieves, trying to get the last banknote from your pocket and strangers, who looked at you, judging. 

Times Square might have not changed since then, but I did. Even though the number of thieves and beggars probably stayed the same, I have learned to never notice them. It became a good habit, which keeps the trouble of having anxiety away from me. At least, I can calmly walk around, not worrying about anything, that might happen with me. 

Finally reaching my destination, I  notice him, standing uncomfortably among the crowd, looking around, worried or concerned. Either way, I don't care and I never will. The whole thing has to end today and Daniel has to let me go. 

He is tall, taller than many. His blonde hair is styled to one side, probably with help of a lot of hair gel. His blue eyes are searching through the crowd, nervously. It's like he is afraid of something, something that will soon come upon him. Probably afraid of me. 

Stopping for a moment, I look at him, not wanting to go any further. I just stare through tens and hundreds of people passing between us, rarely cutting off the view. Even though I have to approach him, I don't feel like doing it. Up until now, I felt brave and strong, willing to do this, do everything  just for stalking to end. Right now, in this moment, I feel like walking away and just leaving everything behind. 

But I decide to do it. I decide to do it for myself, for Martin, for random strangers, who couldn't stand for themselves and stopped fighting, even though their fight was coming to an end. If I don't end my fight now, there would be way more fighting later on, as well as more injuries and harm cause to each other. 

Putting my head up, I walk bravely through the crowd, occasionally stopping some people. My heart starts thumping faster in my chest, my ribcage beginning to become numb. A tight knot forms in my throat, cutting me off from speaking. I feel my body temperature increase vastly in just a few seconds, like I have gotten sick. 

Walking up to him, I cough, trying to make the knot go away. Watching him slowly turn around, I face his intense, blue eyes, which make shivers of fear run down my spine.