Blackmailed ( Martin Garrix Fanfiction )

33

Thousands of people. Scratch that. It felt like billions. It felt like the entire world had gathered in front of one stage, the stage I was waiting patiently behind. I couldn't quite place words on my emotions, really because there was none in the 1, 025, 109 words the english language contains that could bring justice to how thrilling and terrifying it was; how extatic it felt to be on the edge of having your wish granted. I was about to achieve my goal, to see my dream come to life and be more than just mere fantasy. The only thing more terrifying than the uncomptable amount of people dancing to the music that we provide them was the after part. Then what? What happens once you don't have a dream to chase anymore? Disney movies taught me to find other dreams and that it was the exciting part of life, but what if I can't find any that gets me going like this one does?
It felt unreal, it always does. Whenever I find myself waiting to perform, I get this feeling deep inside of me that only this can provide me. Only this can make me go insane as much as Martin does, although it's in a much different way. It's a rush of adrenaline running through my entire body with a speed greater than the speed of light; accelerating the closer I get to performing my music. I can't do anything to stop it, and although I would believe it would somehow overflow and come to life since my body can't contain such energy, it stays inside and it results in me shutting up, filling the atmosphere with total and complete silence. It's a normal reaction to stress, I suppose. Stress is connoted as something bad, but this isn't the kind of stress I mean. I mean a good stress. One that keeps you going, that motivates you and that makes everything more exciting.

"You ready?"

I slightly jumped at Martin, who had made me wake up from my daydreaming.

"I was born ready for this," I mumbled, not looking away from the crowd.

We were at a spot where we could perfectly see the crowd, although it couldn't see us. Not only was it a strategic hidden spot, but the sun was also going down and it was facing them, which meant that they were almost blinded by its light.

Marshmello was up, and as much as I loved his music, I couldn't dance to it. My body was frozen on that one same spot.

"I know you are, it's your dream after all. It must be one hell of a weird feeling, you know, being on the edge of achieving your dream,"

"It is, I don't know how to react. What if it's not up to my expectations? What if I get disappointed?" What if it's not what I've been dreaming about this entire time?" I mumbled once more, slightly turning my gaze to meet his for the first time since the beginning of our conversation.

"Well, I guess there's only one way to find out," he grinned, glancing at the stage, as Marshmello threw both his hands in the air, making me assume it was his final drop.

I looked at the time and froze. 2 minutes and I was up. 2 minutes.

Martin put his arm around my shoulders and brought me closer to him, spinning me around so that I was against his chest.

"You'll kill this, you always do," he said, a little bit less cold than usual, "I love you,"

"I love you too," I whispered against his chest, squeezing him thighter before releasing him and turning around.

"Alright let's do this," I whispered to myself, clenching both of my fists by my sides.

"Good luck, Mel!" Marshmello told me on his way out, passing me a mic and putting his hand in front of me so that I could high five him, "Have fun out there, kiddo,"

"Thanks, you were dope, by the way," I giggled, stepping on the first step of the few leading to the stage.

I took a deep breath and kept on walking, shaking the anxiety out of my head. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, listening to the screaming crowd a few metres away from me. They couldn't see me yet, and I couldn't see them anymore, but I felt them.
I put on a smile, despite feeling like I was about to throw up and put my hand in the air, speaking through the mic.