Tell Your Friends [Martin Garrix]

Chapter 24

Getting up from my bed, I look around my room. Everything is so familiar: the walls, fairy lights, windows, my large desk with my iMac and my favourite bed. However, it all feels empty and sad-looking, just like old toys look, when children stop playing with them. They are never used, but they are still stored somewhere, where they won't be seen. And you don't want to throw them out, but you don't want to look at them either. 

My room feels the same. It's like I haven't been living here for the past decade or so. My suitcase is still half full, even though I don't know when I am going to go somewhere next. I just don't feel like putting all of my clothes back, returning  to the old habits. I feel like right now or in one second, Martin will come barging in through the front door, calling me for another adventure with him. 

Two weeks passed and everything seems like a dream - unreal and old. All of the memories have faded, like old photographs and all of the familiar voices, I have heard, have gone a bit quieter in my head. Everything has just gone to its normal places - I am back in New York, Martin is on tour. Nothing different.

He barely texts me and I try not to interrupt him from his work. When he texts me, I try to reply as soon as possible, I've even stopped switching sound off, before going to sleep - I want to see him text me, at least one word. The stalker has stopped anyway for some reason and I am quite happy about that. Everything feels just like it was, when everything was fine.

Daniel is trying to help me search for that asshole. Well, he's basically doing all of the work, because I am  not too keen on participating, plus, he doesn't allow me to do it. I'm pretty sure, that he has notified the police, but they are not so keen on the idea of searching for an abusive teenager, with mental problems. That's what I was thinking. 

The golden sunlight rays pass through the curtains, which I haven't closed properly before going to sleep yesterday. I stare at them, lighting up just a tiny fraction of the floor surface and a bit of my room. Putting my feet down on the floor, I grab my phone, automatically checking it to see if Martin has texted me and I couldn't hear. 

Nothing. 

For the past five days, he has been especially quiet, not even texting a quick hi during the day or at least night. I have texted him, but he has replied with one word answers and it was pretty boring, so I soon dropped that idea of texting him. I feel a bit lonely now, I can't talk to anybody except Daniel and he's always busy. As well as that, we don't talk anymore. Something between us broke. 

I get up, running my fingers through my greasy hair, which I haven't washed for about three or four days, I can't even remember. Opening the curtains, I decide to open the window as well, letting the fresh, cool air fill up my room. A part of New York sound joins me as well - I don't have to listen to music, now. 

It's pretty early in the morning, just 8:31. These two weeks, I didn't try waking up until twelve or even one in the afternoon. Plus, I didn't get out of bed for like two hours after I woke up, but today seems a bit unusual. I didn't even lie in bed for at least one hour, that's like an achievement or something.

I go in the bathroom, putting on Martin's set at Ultra. I am pretty sure, that I have listened to it at least a hundred times and know most of the songs by heart, as well as the order in which they go. Taking off  the oversized top in which I've slept and my silk shorts, I get in the shower and wash my hair thoroughly, making sure I have used a lot of shampoo and conditioner. 

After getting that done, I choose my outfit for today. This day seems a bit different, so I decide to not go for my usual attire of this week: gray sweatpants and a black nike top. Instead, I pick blue, light washed, skinny jeans and a plain gray top, with a little pocket on it. Although it's very comfortable, it looks kind of good.