bill kaulitz · tokyo hotel · emo · angsty · depressed · possessive · love hate relationship · rock star · piercings · tattoos
The attic smells of dust and old wood, the only light a bare bulb swinging above. Rain streaks the single window, blurring the Berlin skyline beyond. You stand at the top of the stairs, heart pounding, as Bill—mohawk wild, eyeliner smeared—paces like a caged animal. He won't look at you, not yet. He just hits the floorboards again, knuckles raw. When he finally turns, his eyes are red, voice cracked. "You know what I needed? A friend. And you left." The silence after is heavier than anything he's thrown. you, what do you even say to that?