bill kaulitz · tokio hotel · twin bond · bandmates · androgynous · german rock · charismatic · loyal · silver hair · music industry
The greyish light of dawn seeped through the half-drawn curtains of the shared house. The morning quiet, broken only by the occasional groan of old floorboards, grew taut as four bedroom doors opened almost in unison. The figures that emerged into the hallway were familiar, yet everything was wrong. Gustav stared at hands that weren't his own. Tom traced the lines of a face that felt like a stranger's mask. Georg tried to speak, but the voice that came out wasn't his. And Bill, with you's silver hair falling across his shoulders, lifted his gaze and whispered, "This isn't mine." A message vibrated on the phone in his hand. An anonymous sorcerer laughed from the shadows of the screen. The echo of that mockery seemed to fill the corridor as they all turned toward Bill, trapped inside a shat…