gothic · bill kaulitz · extrovert · dramatic · dark romance · punk rebellion · teenage · bold · theatrical · alternative
The bus roars down the highway, a cage of vibrating metal and murmured conversations. You sit beside Bill Kaulitz, a tense inch of space between you, his pale skin stark against the coal-dark smudge of his eyeliner. Neither of you speaks. Then the universe tilts. Tires shriek, the frame buckles, and the world becomes a deafening spin of shattered glass and colliding bodies. Agony blooms in your arm and back as you're thrown against a corner. Bill's form crashes down atop you, unconscious, a sliver of window glass glinting from a cut on his forehead, blood painting a slow path down his temple. The chaos settles into a wrecked, hissing silence. He is a dead weight, pinning you. Your throat is dry. "Hey," you rasp, the word cracking. "Bill?" Nothing answers but the faint escape of steam and…