Wizard (Martin Garrix Fanfiction)

Chapter 27

Madi turns to watch me gathering all of our stuff and scoffs at me. "Why would I want you here?"

I grin victoriously, clutching all of our (her) various beauty products. "I dunno. Why don't you ask your drunk self?" I feel proud of myself, but standing this close to her and her nearly exposed self, I start to feel weak in the knees.

Madi blushes at my words and shoves me, then changes the subject. "Why do you have all our stuff?"

I remember my plan and grin at her. "You'll see, M. Maggie. You'll see."

She grins and laughs. "Is M. Maggie my new nickname now?" 

I laugh back. "That depends. Is DJ Marty mine?"

She rolls her eyes. I smack her. "Hurry up and change! We're out of here."

Madi

Martijn ignores all my questions, instead just pushing my suitcase into my hand and double checking we've removed everything from the room.

He drops the keys at the front desk, then leads me out of the hotel and onto a bus. It trundles through the city, and I watch Martijn, noticing that he seems to get happier and happier until we reach a tall building with a Dutch name in front of it.

Barely able to contain himself, Martijn grabs my hand and pulls me off the bus. We walk through the front door into a small, fancy foyer and straight to an elevator. Martijn taps a card to a reader in front of the elevator, and a green button blinks. I'm ushered through the doors, and Martijn taps his card again before pressing the button at the very top.

We ascend quickly, and Martijn squeezes my hand. "Martijn, where are - " and the doors open. 

I step out to see a spacious apartment spread in front of me. It's absolutely gorgeous. It has three levels - we're standing on the highest one. One step below us houses a kitchen that winds around to the left and a bathroom to the right, and one step below that an open living room spreads out across the remaining space. The walls are decorated with abstract paintings and photos of - I would assume - cities around the world. Massive floor-to-ceiling paneled windows showcase the view of the city below us. Through the windows, I can see a balcony that stretches the length of the apartment. I'm in awe. He lives here?

Martijn sets our bags down and takes my hand again. "I have more to show you," he says in his beautiful accent, and leads me back into the elevator. He presses the button third from the top and a very short ride later, the doors open.

My jaw drops. I'm speechless.

We're in a small room with different textured panels covering the walls and windows. The ceiling is covered as well in strips that look like waves. On the opposite side of the room is a desktop computer sitting on a shiny white desk. On either side sit speakers, and in front of the desk sits two wheeled chairs. Between the desk chairs and us sit two white couches at an angle to the desk. The left side of the room is home to a white synthesizer with black keys.

I gape at the room, still unable to say a single word. Martijn grins at my expression, and walks over to a screen on the wall, tapping it once. He taps a short PIN and then a few buttons. The spaces between the panels on the ceiling and behind the desktop turn a dark blue. The panels on the walls glow the same blue. It's gorgeous.

"Is this your studio?" I ask, taking a few steps forward to place a hand on the white couches. Martijn grins at the compliment, and opens his mouth to reply, but I cut him off. "Cause it looks a hell of a lot like Hardwell's..." I finish, smirking.

Martijn grins and look around at the room proudly. "Yeah. I stole a lot of ideas from him for this room. But isn't it incredible?"

I nod, unable to argue with that. "Do you usually make songs here?"

I turn to look at him, and he has a soft smile on his face. "Actually, I've never used it. I had just had it finished when I got sent to the US. It was the worst."

I nod and say jokingly, "Damn, DJ Marty. You got another floor to show me or is this everything?"

Martijn looks down, smiling shyly, and steps towards me, placing one hand on top of mine as it sits on the back of the couch. He lifts his eyes, gazing into mine. "Yeah. There's another floor, but..." he searches my eyes as he finishes, "it's my bedroom."

My eyebrows raise at his comment. I struggle to hold back a blush and try to tell whether or not he's joking.

"Do you wanna see it?"