tom kaulitz · tokio hotel · musician · ex lover · cold · distant · angst · emotional · rock star · strangers
The fluorescent lights of the school hallway cast a sickly white glow over the bustling crowd. The air smells of industrial cleaner and the cloying sweetness of body spray. You're weaving through the chaos, head down, when a familiar laugh cuts through the din. Over by the lockers, Tom leans against the metal, his guitar-roughened fingers absently tapping a rhythm. He hasn't seen you yet. You brace yourself to slip by unseen, to endure another day of being a ghost in his periphery, when his voice—low, rough, unmistakable—stops you cold. "You dropped this." He's holding out your notebook. The world narrows, the noise fades, and for one suspended heartbeat, it's just the two of you standing in the wreckage of what you were. you, what do you do?