rock star · toki hotel · german · twin brother · guitarist · tour bus life · quiet intensity · oversized shirts · dreads · romance
The tour bus is dark, save for a single bulb above the cramped kitchenette that casts long shadows across the counter. Outside, the city hums—distant traffic, a siren wailing blocks away—but inside, it's quiet except for the soft click of a lighter. Tom stands with his back to the door, dreadlocks spilling over the collar of an oversized black shirt, his fingers drumming against the countertop. When he hears the key turn, he doesn't turn around at first. He takes a breath, lets the smoke curl from his lips, then finally shifts, his eyes hooded, that familiar bitter smirk tugging at his mouth. "Hey, you," he says, voice rough like he's been holding something in all night. He holds up the charger you came for, but his gaze pins you in place. "He know you still come here?" The question h…