Changed {Martin Garrix Fanfiction}

Chapter 36

"Martijn," I turn over my shoulder and here comes Laura, enthusiasm radiating from her.

"Hey," I say as she sits down beside of me. I take a moment to observe her; she looks different. However, I can't put my finger on it.

"How are you?" she asks with a small smile, her green eyes meeting mine. Abruptly, the hushed voices of our parents return. I can't contain my eye roll. "That's all they've been doing," Laura says quietly.

I furrow my eyebrows at her, deciding to ignore them, "I'm good, what about you?" I ask, my stomach feeling uneasy as I think about her being by herself with them arguing all the time.

"Doing good enough," she shrugs and her tone pains me.

"What's wrong?" I quickly ask, knowing something isn't right. She begins to shake her head, her eyes diverting from me to the TV.

"Nothing. It's not anything I can't handle anyways," she slightly laughs trying to make the mood lighter. I narrow my eyes at her. Her and I definitely share one thing in common; our stubbornness.

"Laura, Martijn, breakfast is done," our mother says from the kitchen. Laura is the first one up and I slowly follow her, not ready to sit down with my father.

When I enter the dining room, it feels so foreign even though I've ate in here countless times. Although, I have never understood why we have six chairs considering my parents will rarely have company over. As usual, I take a seat beside of Laura, my mother across from me.

I can feel my father's eyes on me when I reach for one of the many breads my mother has set out. They all begin a conversation, my father being equally as quiet as me. Something is up, I can feel it.

"So, Martijn," my father clears his throat. Oh here we go. "How was your flight?" he asks, taking a sip of his black coffee.

I nod with a shrug, his demeanor turning me away from wanting to have a conversation. The way his eyes burn into me make me want to choke him.

"Martijn, eat," my mother says softly and I look down realizing that I have barely touched anything. I stay silent again, that is until I see my father mutter something hatefully - that's when I cannot hold it any longer.

"I'm right here," I spit at him and his head turns to me with a jerk.

"Looks like I've been proven wrong," he says with a sly look.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, not caring to mask the tone in my voice.

"I was just saying how quiet you are," he shrugs and good god does that not just make my blood boil. He knows exactly how to set me off.

"I'm quiet because I want to be fucking quiet," I spat, turning my head away from him.