Wizard (Martin Garrix Fanfiction)

Chapter 20

We somehow make it on time. We're both clean and dressed, and somehow public transport didn't fail us or make us late. 11:27 on the dot, we step through the doors of Spinnin' Records.

We walk up to the receptionist together, and in Dutch, Martijn introduces us both and I'm pretty sure tells her that we're here together but with separate appointments. I watch him as he speaks. The way his lips and move and the way the words sound rolling off his tongue make me want to kiss him, feel those words whispered onto my lips.

The receptionist nods at what Martijn says and indicates for us to sit in the chairs by her desk. I follow Martijn and take a seat next to him. Once I'm seated, I still feel nervous but excited. I look around the entrance, trying to calm my nerves and find something I can talk about to the guy I'm meeting with. I check the letter I was sent for the 300th time. Andrew Taylor.

The office has a very modern, minimalist look to it; the exposed brick walls are painted over in white, the one directly behind the receptionist emblazoned with the Spinnin' logo; a tilted white S inside a black circle. Hanging plants dangle from various areas around the foyer, adding welcome splash of color.

I like it, I think, but there's almost something weird. Like I have an odd gut feeling.

I push it away. I did all this work and came all this way and I refuse to ruin it for myself because I maybe ate something weird yesterday.

Martijn nudges my shoulder. "You nervous?" I flash him a fake nervous smile and say jokingly, if not goofily, "No, why, do I seem nervous? Do I look nervous to you, Martin Garrix? I am not nervous."

Martijn laughs and rocks against my shoulder again. "Well, if you are, you shouldn't be nervous. These guys are great. Super friendly and just looking for real talent. And... they're gonna be really happy with your stuff. You are... incredibly talented," he says genuinely. I gaze up at him, so happy all of a sudden.

"And hey, I was bored one day, so I thought up a stage name for you. I never told you this, but when I first met you, I thought your name was Maggie. I finally figured it out, but I think a really awesome name would be Mad Dog Maggie. We'll just call you M. Maggie for short."

I can't help but hug him. I wrap my arms around Martijn's shoulders and squeeze. With the T-Rex arms I've left him with, he flaps his hands at my body. I laugh, feeling so happy and confident all at once. "Do you like it?" he asks, almost shyly.

"Are you kidding? It's perfect! It's hilarious, and I love it. So much." Martijn grins, and looks away, clearly not sure what to say. "Hey," now I nudge him, "Are you nervous?"

"Me? Hell no. They never should have suspended me to begin with, I'll just tell them that no one cares about what I did anymore and they should just let me back in my contract. If worse comes to worst I'll tell them I have a bunch of new songs they'd die to have. Or I'll threaten to start my own record company."

"Well, I'm glad you aren't nervous. And you shouldn't be. They're idiots if they don't take you back." Martijn's face suddenly changes, and he suddenly looks like the boy I first met in Boca - tortured unfairly, and like he has some hidden thought I can't read.

Martijn opens his mouth to reply but we hear a door open all of a sudden. I quickly sit up straight, my hands folded on my lap. A man steps out the door. He looks young, maybe in his late 20s or very early 30s? "Madi Johnson?" He's British, too.

As I stand up, Martijn grabs my hand and offers a quick squeeze. I squeeze back and let go, crossing the floor to shake the man's hand. "Nice handshake," he comments, and I smile. "Thank you. Mr. Taylor, right?" He nods. "Please call me Andrew!" I nod, "Alright, Andrew."

Andrew closes the door behind us and gestures to a chair. I take a seat and Andrew sits behind his desk, reaching forward to turn a dial on a pair of speakers sitting by his computer. I recognize the first notes and inhale sharply. This is the most familiar song in the world to me.

"Wow, who wrote this? She's really good at what she does," I say jokingly. Andrew laughs at my comment and nods. "You're not wrong. Do you have more of these?" He asks, gesturing to the music pouring from the speakers.

I shake my head in surprise. "Yeah! I mean, I sent Spinnin' a bunch over the years, but I'm not gonna lie, this one is definitely my favorite. Like, as soon as I added that last loop, I new it was... I don't know, perfect." I blush lightly at my over-sharing. "I'm sorry. I loved writing this song.

Andrew narrows his eyes, but not in a bad way. I can feel him reading me. "Don't apologize. It's very promising to see a person who loves music and who loves making it as much as you clearly do. And you have the talent to match it."

I can't help but smile, but try to keep it modest, looking slightly down. "Thank you. I just really enjoy doing it."

"So, would you be up for discussing a contract with Spinnin?" I nod, trying again to not seem too enthusiastic. I can't believe this is happening.

Andrew slides a pile of papers over, and I immediately spot my name at the top. "Feel free to read, and sign whenever you feel ready." I begin reading, skimming the words that appear blurry to my eyes, and I know the words are not sinking in. No part of me cares.

"Also, just a side question. Does this track have a name? I and the others who listened to it think it'd be a fabulous intro track for you."

My mind races. For some reason I feel so much pressure to come up with a name, to sound professional about this. Surely a professional would never send in a track without at least knowing a potential name for it?

Suddenly, my thoughts clear like clouds parting under the sun. All I see in my mind's eye is a shirtless, handsome Dutch boy leaning out his window to speak to a dark-haired American girl through her own window. "Window to Your Soul." Andrew blinks at this. "Huh. I guess... yeah. That fits. You're sure?" I nod confidently, and smile at the title, knowing it's perfect. "Yes."

*******

I leave the meeting with my copy of my brand new contract and a huge ass smile. As I step out of the room, Martijn comes walking from down the hall. I throw my arms in the air like every girl does when she sees a friend she hasn't seen since 4th period.

Martijn mimics me, creating the same pose, and I can't help but hug him. "We did it?" I ask, afraid he's gonna tell me they actually refused him. "I told you," I can hear his smile through his words. "We did it."

He pulls me in tighter and kisses the top of my head.

I close my eyes, relishing this moment, this feeling. My whole life is falling right into place. I've got a deal with the biggest EDM record company in the world, I'm in a foreign country with a boy who's not only sexy but also the number one DJ in the world, and he's holding me, and I could not be happier.

Martijn rests his cheek on my forehead. "Hey, what did you end up calling your tra-"

"Martijn?" A perfect Dutch accent cuts through the air.

Martijn releases me, nearly pushing me away from him. I look up at him. He's gone absolutely pale. He looks like a ghost that's just seen another ghost.

*******

Note: M. Maggie is a singer who specializes in R&B and soul music; the only part of her used in this story is her name. 

Hope you guys are enjoying! Remember to leave a comment and a vote, and thanks for supporting! - Remy