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.
"Hey," he greets me, his lips extending into a smile, baring his crystal-white teeth. Not understanding or even trying to control my actions, I feel my hand rise up and my palm connecting with the soft skin on his cheek in a loud slap.
Some people turned around, staring at us, making this even more awkward. Adrenaline rushes through my body, making blood inside me boil. I stare at Daniel angrily, while he rubs his reddened cheek with his fingers.
"What the fuck?" He asks, nearly yelling me at the top of his lungs. I hear confusion leading his voice, making me even more angry and a bit perplexed.
"What the fuck?" I yell at him, trying to sound loud and strong. "What the fuck is everything you say?"
"Yes," he replies, staring at me in complete confusion, "because I am freaking confused."
"Confused of what?" I ask, spitting out the words bitterly out of my mouth. I don't want to sound weak - I have to be strong here, it's my turn to return the revenge.
"Confused of everything," he responds loudly, taking a smaller step back, away from me. "What the fuck is happening?"
"Fine," I exhale, trying to control my emotions, which are building inside me. "If you are going to play stupid, let's go to that cafe."
"Why would I go with you, you've just slapped me and now, you are making me follow you into a random cafe."
"Deal with it, it's not like you can't defend yourself."
"Whatever," Daniel says, the tone of his voice still confused and very suspicious. I walk to that cafe, leading the way, while Daniel unwillingly follows me. We get inside and surprisingly, it turns out to be pretty empty. I go up to the counter and ask the barista for a cappuccino. Daniel orders an americano.
After getting our drinks in silence, we sit at the farthest and the most isolated table in the whole cafe, just so nobody will hear us. Sitting down, I make sure that the pepper spray in my handbag is reachable, just in case something might happen. I also throw quick glances at the counter, making sure the barista is insight and can see us.
Sipping on my cappuccino, I decide to break the awkward silence, "Why did you send me the notes and the packages?"
"I have no literal idea what you are talking about." Daniel puts his cup down on the table, not realising he spilt a bit on the wooden surface.
"You absolutely know, what you are talking about," I accuse, hissing every single word through my teeth, as if I am a snake, even though snakes hiss calmly, my hissing is a sign of aggressiveness. The tension at our table starts rising, as soon as I catch Daniel looking around, trying to avoid eye contact.
"No," he replies, taking his gaze away from the desserts counter. "I have no idea what you are talking about. If you asked me to come here to start accusing me, your ex-best friend, of something I haven't done, you better tell me to leave - I have absolutely no idea why you are accusing me."
I exhale slowly, trying to maintain my calmness in a steady position, as well as keeping the anger at bay, no matter how hard I want to burst out and just start yelling at him. Taking a deep breath, I tell him.
"You are the person, that is stalking me. You are the one, that has been sending me random notes about how I feel about Marcus' death and trying to harass me in every way possible. You sent those guys into Martin's hotel suite to break everything in there. You also poisoned my drink, when we were in Las Vegas."
"What the..." Daniel stares at me in confusion, real confusion. I can see somewhere inside him, behind his intensely blue eyes, that he is truly confused. If he is confused, he doesn't understand what I am talking about, meaning that he is not the stalker.
He is not the stalker.
He is not the stalker.
Thousands and thousands thoughts rush through my head, as I inhale and exhale air, staring at the wall behind Daniel, unable to say anything or even function properly. I don't understand whatever has just happened, but I am pretty sure that I have made a terrible mistake in trying to find out my stalker.
Staring at Daniel in shock, I scrape my chair against the floor, pushing it back. Getting up, I say a quick I will be back and quickly head to the bathroom, simultaneously taking out my phone from my bag. Locking myself in one of the stalls, I search for Martin's number, not even looking at the time. It's probably something in the evening in Amsterdam right now and hopefully, Martin isn't at his set right now.
After tense waiting, hearing the regular beeping of the line and staring at the phone screen in complete despair, I finally hear Martin's lively voice on the other end of the line.
"Hello?" His voice is happy, but a bit tired. I can hear background noises somewhere behind him. He is probably at that King's Day party, which he told me about. I am so lucky not to have called during his set. At least, he can answer me.
"Martin," I exhale into the phone, trying to sound contained, but that doesn't quite happen. "Daniel is not the stalker."
"How do you know?" Martin wonders, his voice fully serious and concerned. The background noises behind him suddenly disappear, followed by a slam of a door.
"He doesn't know anything about it," I explain, my voice becoming quieter and quite with every word, "I can see that he is confused, trust me, I have known him for years."
"Maybe, he is just playing dumb."
"I don't know, Martin." I reply, turning around on my heel. "I mean, we can't trust him, but he doesn't even know what I was talking about."
Martin stays silent, probably thinking about everything I said. The line is silent, only to be cut off by loud music coming from the other side of it. Somebody shouts and I hear the door open. Somebody starts talking to Martin in Dutch and he replies. Soon, they leave Martin and I hear the door close.
"We can't trust him."
"But, what if he doesn't know. I can give it a shot, the more people will be helping us, the better."
"Try it," Martin concludes, his voice a bit annoyed, "but don't expect anything. The less expectations from him, the less disappointment. I want you to be safe."
"Thank you," I say, unlocking the door of the stall. Martin ends the call and I exit the toilets. My head is lightly spinning from all of the thinking, but I decide to face the issue and tell Daniel everything. If he is my real best friend, even though he said he is my ex-best friend, he is supposed to help me.
Sitting back down on the chair, I put my hands on the table, clicking my nails against the the greasy wooden surface, creating a rhythm of my own. Daniel continues scrolling on his phone, his eyes focused on Facebook posts. The continuous scrolling drives me insane and I just let it out.
"Okay, I'm sorry!" I nearly yell at him, quickly lowering my voice so that nobody else won't notice anything suspicious. "Look, I know I have accused you wrong, it's just so much shit has happened and doing this was my only solution. I had to do it, it was my only opportunity to end the shit and now, I don't even know how to end it."
"What are you talking about?" He asks, switching his phone off and putting it screen down on the table. "Tell me everything."
"Okay," I exhale, mentally bracing myself for the struggle of telling. "When I went to Ultra, Marcus was calling me and texting me and basically doing anything, to make me feel like shit for breaking up with him and becoming friends with Martin. Also, Sydney and Lynn did that, but it was mostly Marcus."
"Why don't you blame them?" Daniel wonders, bitterly telling me the words.
"I can't. Marcus is dead, I found out about it in New York. Some time later, I started getting random notes from an unknown person. Most of them were about how I was going to pay for what I've done, which me supposedly killing Marcus."
I stop, taking a deep breath, feeling my head becoming a bit heavier. Telling this seems a bit easier, than I thought. I guess keeping it inside is the hardest thing and letting it out helps a lot. I feel like something heavy was taken out my body, making it a thousand times lighter.
"I though it was you, because the notes were very deep. They were probably made by someone, who knew my emotions well and the only person was you, so I assumed it was you."
"Thank you very much," Daniel replies, his voice full of sarcasm. He stares at me, probably trying to figure out if I am lying or not. Well, I have nothing to hide form him, I don't look away. I bravely look him straight in the eyes, showing that I am not afraid.
"I'm sorry," I say it again, my voice becoming hoarse, as I finish saying the last syllable. "Everything was too crazy and I just couldn't think probably. Everyone I knew, they just turned against me and I couldn't trust anyone."
"But, I was there for you," Daniel continues, his tone of voice serious, without any hint on this being a joke. "I wanted to come to New York, but you left with Garrix."
"Look, I really wanted to come with him and if I didn't I wouldn't have been able to see him for ages."
"That shouldn't even be an excuse."
"I just had to."
"Fine."
"I need your help," I let the words slip, even though they weren't meant to be heard here, right now. It wasn't my intention on asking him for help, at least I wasn't going to do it today, because it wasn't in the plan A and everything is just too fast for me and for him.
"What do you need?"
"I want your help to find out who is the stalker and you are the only person, who knows my friends well. Please, I really need your help."
"Fine."
"Thank you."
"Let's just forget about whatever has happened before this."
Tell Your Friends lives! There will be a bit more chapters, than I planned, because I am really enjoying writing this. Hope you are liking this too, don't forget to vote and comment. Opinions are much appreciated.
;D