Martijn
I wake up and sit up, running my fingers through my messy bedhead. The bed next to me is empty, but I feel a pair of eyes on me, and look over to see Madi gazing at me from the bathroom door.
I see that she's still wearing my shirt, and I recall her drunken state and can't help but smile at that and how sexy she looks in my clothing. I can't help but tease her a little bit, even though she's clearly hungover and can't remember if she fucked me last night.
I watch her, mesmerized, as she wrestles her hair into a bun, and suddenly I see a cluster of dark marks on her neck. I'm by her side in a second, jealousy nearly consuming me. I ask her what's on her neck, but she has no idea until she looks in the mirror.
Then for some reason she seems to remember something and storms out of the apartment after changing out of my shirt.
I sit on the bed and turn on the TV, not knowing what to do and not able to text her because she forgot her phone.
Maybe an hour later she bursts back into the room and as I try to greet her, she shushes me and hums a string of notes into her phone. I grin at this.
She eventually calls me cocky and I tell her she's a lightweight, and then she - she reminds me of what happened yesterday. Of how Elise broke my heart for a second time. I know she didn't mean to - she was just calling me out for leaving her at Spinnin', but it reminded me of what happened. Of everything that I did, and how none of it mattered because she had thrown our relationship away long before that.
I slam the door behind me and stalk down the street to the bus station, only one thing on my mind. Well, two.
I take the bus to Spinnin' Records and march through the door. I walk past the receptionist, and she calls after me in Dutch, "Do you have an appointment?" I almost growl at her and throw open the door to Andrew's office.
He's sitting at his desk, and someone I've never seen sits in the chair in front of him. As I step through the door, leaving it open behind me, Andrew looks at me, surprised. "Good morning, Martijn. Do we have a meeting scheduled?" For some reason, his impeccable British accent angers me even more. I lean onto his desk, my knuckles pressing into the wood. I hope I look intimidating.
"No," I reply, and he opens his mouth to protest my presence, I'm sure. "This won't take long," I continue. "I want out. I'm ripping up our contract. I don't want to work with you anymore. You made me go live somewhere I didn't want to because I made one tiny, insignificant mistake, you have the rights to my music, and you try to control what I release, what my personal branding is, and I've had it. Martin Garrix is done with Spinnin' Records." I lift my hands from the desk.
I nod to the young man in the chair in front of Andrew, "What's up," and walk out the door, slamming it behind me.
I know that the reasons I gave Andrew aren't the only reasons I have for leaving, but they're the only ones he needs to know.
*******
In the foyer of the hotel Madi and I are staying at, I tell the concierge that we'll be out by noon before heading up to our room. I step back into the hotel room but don't see Madi in sight. I step into the bedroom and hear a shower running and grin. Perfect. I grab her clothes off the floor and the bed and stuff them in her suitcase, along with her phone and charger. I hear the shower turn off and rustling in the bathroom.
I clean up everything that I've scattered around the hotel room and shove it in my suitcase, walking back into the bedroom just as Madi steps into the room wearing just a towel. "Ah," I say, smirking and walking past her into the bathroom, "I see you finally got that shower you wanted so badly last night. It's a shame I wasn't here, though."
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?"