Shooting Stars

Hello Tokitas

So here's a new fanfiction which I hope you are going to like.




Chapter One


I stood there, in the middle of the big market, breathless, astonished, helpless, as I stared at what seemed to be the missing piece of my past; or most probably the piece I’ve tried hiding and running from in the past six years of my life. Just minutes ago, I was tracing what looked like a familiar shadow, until I was utterly exposed to the owner of this shadow, to the once owner of my heart.

Standing there, dizzy, confused, puzzled, I thought about the time left for me to run away, to hide somewhere before he could see me, too. I thought of the two possibilities, one about escaping the same way I escaped once upon a time and one about waiting until he sees me back to see if he still cares, if he still recognizes what he always called a sugary face.

Stuck in a struggle between my mind and my heart, I just stood there, my hands let down, my face blank and expressionless, as I watched his eye irises wander from a product to another, his hands grab a shampoo and let go of the other, his lips move as he reads the information written on the back of each one. His face was no longer joyful and happy, it was dark and weak instead, yet still handsome and attractive.

My mind won this time. I had to leave, run, hide, do anything but not stand there to face reality, to heal my aging wounds and fix all the faults I’ve done once ago. Before my mind could process all these information and order my body to move, Bill’s gaze met mine.

I can’t call it a chemical reaction because that only happens when you catch someone’s eye for the first time. But this wasn’t the first time; it was more than the millionth time. I could tell from his eyes that it won’t be the last time either.

I couldn’t read them, couldn’t read his eyes if they were happy to meet mine, if they were sad, shocked, or angry. Nothing came to my mind. Even his lips didn’t bother and stretch for a smile. Did I even smile to receive one at the first place? Without thinking, I looked down and only saw my nose partially. Seeing him and after all these years, my mind couldn’t work properly enough to disable me from doing this stupid move, from trying to see if I was smiling.

I quickly glanced at Bill, I saw him half smiling for what I just did and that gave me the urge to smile, too. Yet, I dressed the blank expressionless face again as soon as his smile faded. Clearing his throat, he walked towards me, as gracious as.. As I known him to be.

He was still so breathtaking, so glorious and confident in his walk, and his eyes and lips were still the most mesmerizing, mind blowing, the most beautiful and most precious. I kept my sight away from his lips, trying to shut that flammable desire within me. I’ve always had that desire, didn’t I? I always wanted him, yearned for him and it occurred to me that even though I haven’t seen this face in several years, it still ignited my being.

I looked into his eyes tentatively; he’s so close. He held out his hand for me to take and I slowly, quaking, held his. Words fail to describe how painful the tingles felt in my belly, and how happy and hot they made me feel. Like every single time I held his hand in the past, it felt bittersweet. Bittersweet for only we know how many reasons…

1st December 2011

One day, a person wakes up with a strange pain in his gut, an alienate sensation in his heart and a body sleeping and breathing on the other side of the bed. This happened to me when I opened my eyes to this strange room and this stranger. I felt my heart race like an engine as my eyes rested on his beautiful face; sleepy eyes, pierced ears and luscious pierced lips, perfect nose.

Who is he? No, fucking no.

I know who he is. He is Tom, Tom Kaulitz. I know who he is but I just don’t know why I am here. Or maybe I do. I should. I should know why I am here.

Oh God, no. I never met him, how can I even think of the possibility that I might have been his one night stand girl.

He smiled at me lovely. It brought me to another question; why did he just smile at me? Isn’t he supposed to use and throw?

Why am I here beside him? It confused me, puzzled my mind a thousand times per second. This can’t be it because somehow I understand fully his genuine smile on me and I know very well that I don’t have amnesia or hit my head against a wall and lost a bunch of my memory or been raped and woke up with Mr. Playboy trying to remember what happened.

Maybe I am just in a state of denial. Oh come on, who am I to be in Tom’s bed and deny it. Like DUH. It’s Tom fucking Kaulitz.

I came out of my bed slowly without saying any word. His wary eyes checked me several times before he spoke; that was after an action of parting lips and sophisticating expressions.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked with that amusing accent, his voice heavy and sexy.

I nodded lying. If I slept well, would I wake up with this feeling? I don’t even remember sleeping. “Yes, I did. Did you?” I asked, almost skeptically. He stood up yawning and approached me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against his strong chest, like every other morning.

Why did I just think of every other morning? I wore a perplexed look.

“Yeah. You blew my mind yesterday, you know. How can I not sleep well after that?” he said with his warm breath caressing my bare neck. He traced my body with the tips of his fingers starting from under my chest continuing to my neck which set me into giggles that weren’t just out of pleasure of tickling. They were out of amazement. How did I reach this?

His breath became warmer as his lips touched mine in a not more than one second peck after I jerked back. My back hit the closet and so did my head. I let out an ‘Ouch’ sound and touched my head.

“What’s wrong?” Tom asked without bothering and giving my aching head a check. I didn’t answer but continued checking where I hit my head by my fingers. “I asked you, what’s wrong?” Tom questioned, this time more concerned, or what seemed, angrier.

“You saw what’s wrong. I hit my head against the closet.” He frowned and muttered something in German.

“Why did you jerk back?” he asked. Somehow, I received a hint out of nowhere that he cared less about my injured head and cared more about his sexual desires.

“Because I didn’t feel like kissing you.” And then, by saying this one sentence, his face clouded in response and his strong hands found my elbows in a strong quake. I felt dizzy as he shook me back and front and abruptly I was lying on the floor helplessly. I looked up at his face and all I saw was regret. Regret?

“I’m sorry,” he said as he helped me get up. I only responded with questioning eyes. He ignored the clear questioning in my gaze and left the room. I quickly looked at my left hand, at my finger, at the immaculate ring wrapping it. No No No No No No. I squealed inside.

I am married to that monster. I am married to that beautiful monster. If I can correct, he’s a sexy rude, beautiful monster. I must be dreaming or having a nightmare. Maybe I am trapped inside one of my daydreams. But I am not. I am wearing a short only-married-women-wear dress. My reflection at the mirror doesn’t lie, I sure have red lipstick that needs fixing and my hair is probably curled in its ends. I can’t be dreaming, I must have curled it because I have a very silky black hair. I could feel my artificial locks and touch my dress. This isn’t a dream, this is real and I must know about all of that, but how did it happen?

I heard a thundering slam of a door and I knew that Tom had left the house. Yet, out of the blue, a tall figure entered my room and as my heart fluttered from my amazement, I took my time examining my favorite celebrity from head to toe and vice verse. Every time my eyes were set staring at his beautiful features, his cheeks reddened into a sweet scarlet and my heart pumped blood irregularly.

“Good morning,” he said with his glorious voice. I felt my body quiver and I was afraid that I might be doing so. Why would I do so? I am Tom’s wife. I have this huge rock on my finger to prove it, although I can’t prove it myself. I felt confused out of a sudden and started doubting again that this is a dream. If I could be someone’s wife it would be this god’s wife, not Tom’s. Taking a chance of a I-thought-I-was-dreaming excuse – although, sincerely, I thought I was – I approached him slowly and looked through his amusingly gorgeous pools of chocolate, giving permission to my hands to wrap themselves around his thin nick and softly crossing the distance between our bodies until I tip-toed and kissed his velvet lips tenderly, somehow eagerly as if I’ve waited all my life for this kiss. Although I was dreaming and he was responding to my kiss, I still felt it one hundred percent, as if it was the truest thing I’ve ever done in my entire lifetime. I managed to stop breathing as our lips smooched and tangled and I was sure pretty much that what I was feeling inside was my heart burning; only if that was possibly medically.

On the spur of the lovely moment, I felt a Déjà vu flash before my eyes. Can I feel a Déjà vu inside a dream?



---
so this is the first chapter, what do you think? Gosh I think my style's a bit confusing but the character's confused herself so yeah

WOAHHHH.
DUDE I LOVE THIS! (y)
Keep it up!! <3 :3 I have to know what happens! :3

I really want to see what happens!! Please post soon!!

Awhh thanks Nicolie, Sophie and Crane I am really glad you like it girls ^_^
so here's chapter two.

---

As I sat on the bed, my mind felt heavy with thoughts and worries – besides the depressing guilt that tired my mind. Bill stood in front of me silently. I couldn’t look up at his face. This wasn’t a dream. As I mentioned before, this kiss felt so true, so real that it couldn’t be in any chance a dream. Not only that, people don’t have a déjà vu during their dreams. How come I am married to that very gorgeous husband who obviously doesn’t care if I hit my head against the wall and I don’t remember it? And I just kissed his twin. That makes sense in some way, but in the case of the twins I am dealing with, it doesn’t. If these were a boy and a girl, I would say they were in love. As far as I remember, they had a great connection, an amusing brotherly love. I remember that, I remember every detail of their life. They weren’t my favorite band – I wasn’t even a fan or ever tried to listen to them – yet they had been a part of my ‘curious-about-you’ list of celebrity brothers.

“What did we just do?” I said, pretending that I was myself and that this was an accident.

“You attacked me, remember?” he said sarcastically. I looked up into his eyes and he jerked the sarcastic look back.

“Well, you’re tom’s brother. You kissed me back when you should have stopped it,” I said smart assed.

“Ha? And you’re not Tom’s wife since nine months now? And not his girlfriend since two years today?” he said examining my reaction. I held my breath for a moment trying to process the information he just gave me and he had his eye brows raised, as if he knew I will be surprised.

“And you’re his brother since, hmm twenty years!” I shot back. He laughed.

“Next month they will be twenty two years, honey.” He smirked as he said that. I flinched suddenly and stayed silent for a moment. He really got me. “So that was your wish,” he said it as if it was some conclusion.

“What?” I raised an eye brow. I honestly didn’t understand what he meant.

“You don’t remember?” he asked quizzically and I tried to gaze somewhere but not his eyes – for they had a strange effect on me – trying to trigger some damn memory.

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tried to sound sure and confident, to make him think I am aware of some morning trick he’s trying to apply on me.

“My God, that was really your wish. I knew it,” he said now, scaring me a little bit. I looked at his face and it just looked sad and deep. I tried to step front a little but he jerked back. “That was your wish. Don’t ruin it.” He gave me the stiffest look in his life and walked out. I stood in the middle of the room as if hypnotized staring at the caramel colored walls of the large immaculate bedroom. This must be some prank.

I spent the day exploring the house I was living in. I quickly remembered that once the twins had an interview where they said that Bill would live with his girlfriend in a room and Tom would probably be in the other, except this time Bill had lived the next room from the one Tom and his wife had shared. I knew later that Tom went to meet up with Georg and his girlfriend, that’s what Bill had told me after I interrupted his silence on the balcony where he was standing alone smoking a cigarette.

“These things are bad,” I said pointing at the cigarette in his hand. “I mean smoking in general.”

“And this is coming from a smoking addict,” he spoke like some program show announcer though the sad look on his face hasn’t disappeared. I winced at that moment. Man, I haven’t smoked in my entire life. How come I don’t remember being an addict?

“Ah, yeah. I was kidding, you know,” I lied. “Hand me a cigarette.”

“Here,” he yanked a cigarette box from his pocket and handed me a lighter. I drew two cigarettes trying to sound awesome, if I am an addict, I shall do it the cool way. I put the two cigarettes together in the end of my lips and lit them with the orange lighter that Bill handed me. I inhaled and started coughing quickly as the two cigarettes fell from my mouth. Bill started laughing hysterically as I pouted and leaned down and brought the two cigarettes back to my mouth. I inhaled another time but it just felt so wrong and I started coughing again, except this time the two cigarettes didn’t fall. I yanked them out with my two fingers to exhale and put them in to inhale again. At that time Bill’s cigarette was totally burnt and he threw it to a green basket in the corner.

Preparing to leave the balcony, he looked at me and patted on my shoulder, “By the way, you have never smoked before.” I glared at him harsh and felt my inside being swallowed with embarrassment. He walked into the house.

“Very funny, Bill,” I tried to scream so that he’d hear. He didn’t look back.

I drew out a plastic chair from the corner and placed on a side looking out at the German street. It was so clean and neat. There were almond trees in every corner and in front of us was a big white house that had a pool beside it and two swings. I wondered if we had a pool in our garden, too, that’s if we had a garden. I lay my head back and drowned in my thoughts. How come I don’t remember any of this? Now that I am sure it’s not a dream, and it’s not Amnesia for I can perfectly recognize myself from this world beside Tom and Bill – as international celebrities only. I wondered what Bill meant by a wish? Did I make a wish to become suddenly the wife of Tom Kaulitz and have Bill at the home all for myself? Even if I did – which I would choose Bill instead if that was true and have fun with Tom – how could he know that I made a wish? And I bet I’d remember it. Nobody would wish to forget that.

Hold on, did I wish to forget? To forget whatever I had?

“No way, that’s stupid,” I muttered to myself and then was freaked out when Bill entered the balcony again and took a look at the street.

“Man, I love Spain,” he said smiling. “It smells of flowers and almonds.” He gave me a sly look – it made him sexier for the note.

No, I am not going to fall for his tricks again, I thought. I stayed silent instead.

“We’re in the Spanish Island Majorca, just so you don’t slip in words around anyone and sound foolish,” he said not turning to face me.

“Do you have to be mean?” I asked feeling a little bit hurt.

“Maybe that was included in your wish,” he muttered and walked in the house again. I put my head in my hands and closed my eyes to sink in thoughtfulness. This is going to be so hard.



It’s been two hours since I let myself take a nap on that couch and I can still feel its comfort. I entered the fancy bedroom size-like bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked beautiful. I must have dyed some locks of my hair dark blue. My hair looked very straight with only few curled locks, tall, black and strong with few stripes of blue. My eyes looked all the same, wide and grey, my lashes long and black like my hair. I had an imperfect nose but I remember that my very first crush said that he loved the small curve in it and that it was the only imperfect thing in me, since then I felt so confident and didn’t even think for a change. I wondered if Tom liked it, too. My lips, medium sized and full had the trace of hot red lipstick. I must have really blown Tom’s mind as he said.

I changed my short stripped sleeping dress for a short white shorts and short sleeved blue t-shirt. Then I combed my hair and tried to remove the remaining lipstick. A very delicious smell leaded me into the kitchen where Bill was wearing an apron and cooking something on the stove.

“What are you preparing?” I asked intoxicated by the smell. He didn’t turn to look at me but continued cooking. I sat around a round table and grabbed a cucumber from a fruits and vegetables basket that was set in its middle. “It smells good,” I noted about the food and took a bite from my cucumber. Man, it tasted fresh and well.

“I am making pasta and now I am preparing the sauce,” he said and turned to me smiling. I felt relieved. “I taught you how to do it once.” I nodded. Bill obviously knew what had happened to me but he just wouldn’t tell. I felt okay with that.

“Can I taste? The sauce,” I asked as my stomach growled answering the thrilling smell.

“Sure,” he said as he dipped a wooden spoon in the sauce. I stood up and reached him. He drew the spoon close to my mouth as I opened it in response. It tasted hot and delicious and spiced, but that wasn’t what made me stare in astonishment. It was the eyes of Bill, when they’re close and deep, when they’re hiding a millions of secrets that at that moment made me want to know what the hell has happened to me. How the hell did I reach this point? I swallowed the sauce and it burnt my throat and satisfied my stomach but still I stood staring at his eyes as he froze, too. I wished I could enter these eyes and play in the pools of chocolate and stare at the bright stars that glittered inside and live the peace in their white.

When every moment passed so slow and so hard, Bill erected the spoon to drop the left in it on my shirt. It felt so hot on my skin and the color of my shirt changed.

“Heeey,” I mumbled. “That’s not nice.” He didn’t answer. I kind of felt humiliated. “You’re stupid, I hate you,” I threw the words as I rushed to take off my shirt in the other room.

“Even wishes can’t make that true,” he said. It both evoked my curiosity and made me laugh.

what do you think?

OHMAHGOD.
dude dude dude.
i'm gonna have a friggin heart attack if you keep leaving cliff-hangers *-*
i love this and i'm gonna die if you stop writing it.
i loooooove ittttttt *kisses laptop screen* :3 <3

AND I LOVE THIS SENTENCE:

"I wished I could enter these eyes and play in the pools of chocolate and stare at the bright stars that glittered inside and live the peace in their white."

OH GOSH.
you should see my SMILE NOW IT'S LIKE
))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ok well i didn't mean this way, the other way around lol
THANKYOUUUU NICOLIE <3
and and btw.. when i wrote that i imagined someone would quote it, dunno why o_O telepathy maybe? <3

o.O psychic powers.... *whew wooo dooo deww dun duuuuunnn*
^-^ only the truth. :3 <3

agree! With all of you, this is just amazing!!!!!!!!! It's like mysterious and funny at the same time. I love it!
Please post soon!!

Crane: Hahaha ok if that's supposed to be a compliment, thank thank youu (i mean she's international, for god's sake [h])
Cofie: oh well im tryna my best to mix those two haha thank you sophiee^^
well, since it's freezing cold at the moment, and i feel there'll be tsunami and stuff, and when i type its like ice typing on ice, i will try my best to finish the 3d chapter now:)

Chapter Three



It felt so awkward dealing with the washing machine we had in our Spanish loft. I don’t remember ever using a washing machine. I remember being a teenager who’s mom did all the hard work. Now that Bill mentioned that after a month they’ll become twenty two I knew the date, it was some time in December 2011. Great, I must be twenty now. I can’t believe I am married when I am only twenty. But that wasn’t the thing that had troubled my mind, it was the wishes issue. The word wish had passed through my mind a million times and I heard it today enough to suspect it has to do with the thing in my head.

By the time the night had fallen, the door was unlocked and Tom, Georg and a really beautiful red haired woman entered the house. I stood still holding a cucumber – I really loved them – and Tom was shocked to see me in my bra and short shorts.

“Hmm,” I mumbled and quickly jumped to my room. I opened the closet and yanked a strapless pink shirt and re combed my hair. Then Tom entered the room.

“Hey, love,” he said smiling. He looked tired. I smiled at him. Even though Tom wasn’t my type, but I always thought he was a sweet boy – other than being a womanizer.

“Hey.” I put on a smile, this time it was honest. He approached me and pulled me from my waist. We kissed for a moment and it didn’t feel bad. In fact, it felt irresistible and lovely. He pulled away and checked on my head.

“I am sorry about today. I was in a hurry and you shocked me somehow.” He sounded concerned. I nodded. “Where’s Bill?”

“I don’t know. I was cleaning my shirt, some sauce your brother made spilled on my shirt and I was just cleaning it, I thought he was in the kitchen but maybe he left to get something,” I reasoned.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Hurry up; Lisa had missed you so much.”

“Lisa?” I asked skeptically.

“Lisa. Georg’s girlfriend,” he declared. I made an Aaah sound and Tom’s eyes went suspicious but no words came out of his throat.

As soon as Tom walked into the salon, I followed him. Lisa, the red haired and really gorgeous lady jumped on me cheerfully.

“I miss you, yazi,” she squealed and I fake smiled. I wasn’t sure if she meant me, or she just had a really bad nickname for me.

“I miss you, too, Lisa boo.” That was a fail, a really epic one. I couldn’t even put up a cute nickname.

“Really?” she pulled back with a hidden laugh behind her shocked face. “Lisa boo? If you repeat that again I’ll murder you.” Everyone laughed in the room except me. I just felt scared and laughed in a creepy way that made everyone stop and stare.

“She’s not being herself today. Don’t worry,” Tom joked and I glared at him. “I am kidding, honey.”

“I am kidding, honey,” Georg repeated in a mocking way and Tom punched him in the stomach. “Ouch.” He groaned. Then he stood up and pulled me into a hug. I kissed Tom, kissed Bill and hugged Georg, if there was any true Tokio Hotel fan in this world I must have been dead by now.

“So, you love Spain, chica?” Lisa asked winking at me. I nodded smiling, although all what I remember from this Spain I am in is the almond trees and the white house in front of ours. “We stopped in our way in that restaurant in the corner. Tom said you went there a couple of times. We tried Arros Brut, man it’s tasty.”

“Really?” I asked. I thought I had to wait for Tom so that we’d have lunch together. I have an amazing life now.

“Yeah. And guess who’s in the island, too?” she asked all light and bright, her eye brows high as if waiting for an answer.

“What island?” I questioned feeling stupid.

“Majorca Island, silly.” She still waited for an answer and I still had no idea who’s the person and what island did she mean. “Mirage and Lucette,” she announced expecting an excited jump from me but instead I sat still having no idea who’s Mirage and who’s Lucette. “Tom, you’re right. She’s not herself today.” She finally gave up and I heaved a sigh tiredly. If there was something worse than Amnesia, Denial and nightmares, it has to be this.

The door opened again and Bill entered with a tall muscular man. They both were holding thousands of food bags. They entered the kitchen to unload them and then came back in. Bill shook hands with Georg and Lisa and gave me a stare as he sat on the love seat next to the big flat screen. I felt relieved to see him in the room. Maybe he could help me.

“How was your flight?” he asked Lisa. Somehow, it felt like he wanted to inform me indirectly that they came from Germany and they weren’t in here. I was grateful.

“Tiring. This is the first time I and Georg travel without your private plane guys, and we had to stay separate all the way,” she explained.

“Tough for Romeo and Juliet,” Tom mocked putting his hand on his chest. “Effective.” I giggled and Georg pinched Tom, again.

“Billy, Mirage and Lucette are here,” I said smiling at Bill and I knew he’d understand that I needed to know who the hell these are.

“Ah, your Algerian best friends. It’s been three months and they must be taking some vacation in Majorca,” he kept his tone cool and I was very thankful. I just nodded and continued listening to Lisa and her talks that I obviously couldn’t decode. After some time, my head started hurting and I excused and went to the kitchen to drink a cup of water and perhaps rest a little, or maybe hit my head against the fridge and trigger something out of it.

Then came the disaster as I started searching in every closet for a cup and I couldn’t recognize the fridge. I looked from the door at the salon where they all sat. “Bill, come for a minute.” All their heads snapped up as Bill walked towards me.

“Please, don’t do anything. We’re stuffed,” Lisa said begging. “We just ate, you know.” I flushed as I heard what she said. I wasn’t even going to prepare anything but now that she mentioned it, I had to.

“No excuses, you can’t miss the tea I make,” I said smiling. I hoped we had tea in the kitchen. I entered it and found Bill standing in front of what I thought was a closet but is apparently a fridge in a closet. I frowned at the thought.

“Bill,” I said as I sat on a chair. “I can’t remember any damn thing,” I confessed although I was sure he knew. He didn’t seem surprised, instead he poured cold water in a glass and handed me it then headed to a closet to yank green tea plants. I drank the water and supported my head between my hands as I put my elbows on the round table. “Why can’t I remember?”

He continued preparing the tea and as he set the water kettle over the stove he turned himself and stood still.

“I don’t know why but I noticed that. There’s a reasonable possibility in my head but I won’t tell you because if I did, you’d wish I didn’t,” he said, his face expressionless.

“Ugh, why? I feel so stupid and oblivious. You can’t be that cruel?” I said angry now.

“Don’t speak loud. You don’t really want them to know,” he said overlooking at the people in the salon. I sighed and took another sip of water.

“Tell me about these girls, Mirage and Lunette,” I asked giving up. I needed to know information and if the reason that I can’t remember anything is that secretive, not remembering shall be secretive, too.

“It’s Lucette. You met them in your visit to Algeria. Well since you know you’re French Algerian and you go there every-” he paused a little, “You remember your identity right?” he half hid his smile.

“Ugh, yes I do. I know I am French Algerian and I know I go there yearly to visit my grandma and all that stuff. I just don’t remember how the hell I am here and who the hell these people are!” I said in a low crying voice. I thought for a moment. “Oh God, I know why. It must be voodoo magic. There was that girl, she hates me. I knew it.” I remembered that once in Algeria I met a handsome new boy in the neighborhood who I always fancied, and he had always sent me flowers setting dates for us to meet but I never really answered back because of his ex girlfriend, the voodoo-obsessed girl. She’s always muttered some vague lines whenever she passed by me so it must be her. She must have thrown some spill on me. That’s it.

Bill looked mystified then suddenly; he burst into amusingly funny giggles.

“What?” I looked at him, smiling at his giggles. Gosh he looked funny with cute.

“Voodoo,” he said attempting to sound scary. “Wooh, voodoo.” Now he made these gestures with his hands like claws. I laughed at his attempts involuntary until I had tears in my eyes. Awkwardly, we both fell into silence.

“Look, these girls are really your best friends, so if there’s someone professional in helping you discover the last two years of your life, it has to be them,” he said sounding concerned now. He turned off the fire under the kettle and started pouring tea in the cups.

“Should I trust them, then?” I asked.

“Only them,” he answered back. He handed me the tray of cups as I stood. “They think you made this tea, so you have to serve.”

“Thanks, Bill,” I said staring at him for a few. He is so fucking beautiful, I noted mentally. He nodded with a faint smile. Then I walked into the salon.


I was very thankful when I knew that Georg and Lisa we’re staying in a hotel. No offence, but I needed peace, and with Georg around Tom, that was the furthest thing to expect. I tried searching for my pajamas to wear, but apparently all I had with me was short sleeping – extremely stripped – dresses. Was I a playboy girl, too?

At eleven pm, Bill and Tom were already looking for a DVD to watch. They had a really big pile which I guessed would give them millions in an auction. I mean, come on, favorated movies by the Kaulitz twins, and not only that, touched by them and played on their immaculate DVD player.

“Aren’t you going to watch?” Tom asked as the movie started.

“No, I am not feeling alright,” I said, inwardly, I felt it wasn’t something he’d care about. Bill’s head snapped from the bowl of popcorn set on his laps. He eyed me, his face unreadable and somehow I wished he’d follow me inside. Okay no this isn’t true. This isn’t right at all. I mean, those whole feelings, I must be dreaming, or taken a wrong medicine pill, or just, just slightly sick with some disease that makes a person swap feelings for twins. Yes this must be it. I am sick with the swapped-feelings-towards-twins syndrome. Exactly.

So none of my secret wishing came true. See, that’s the aim of why God doesn’t make all our wishes true, because sometimes we’re into some weird syndromes where our feelings aren’t the same and one fulfilled wish would change the universe. Not that me loving Bill would change the universe, not that he’s something really big and stuff. I mean come on, he might be a rock star and all that oh la la but seriously, that could count as a fan love, builds nothing, and destroys nothing.

I walked back into the room and found some pain killers. This should help. I lay on my bed and closed my eyes, perhaps I’d find peace in a few hours of illusive death.

This is... well... what's the word again? Oh, right! SO FREAKING AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't know why but the simple fact that she can't remember anything at all is simplly great... in some way, some creepy way But I just love it

hahaha girls you motivate me way too much thank you so much, im glad you're enjoying so far. Your opinions mean alot to me <3

Chapter Four

Okay, so these pills aren’t exactly the definition of pain killers, or the ones that’d set you into a really good sleep like the ones we see in movies. All I’ve got was scary nightmares. The first one was very vague and dark where I was playing some game in an old hood somewhere in Algeria and suddenly two boys started fighting over me? And well, their figures started mixing together and I woke up when it started to get awkward. Then I had this dream of a big frying pan attacking me. I know, I know. This sounds very childish of moi but come to think of it, a big frying pan, with big eyes, and lips made of tomatoes. Scaaaaryy.

Yet the third nightmare is the one that really scared me. I was… making out with Bill – who isn’t the one I should be making out with. And well, it was warm, more of hot, and he was touching me all over. Gosh it felt so real until like, a pair of eyes was watching us, Tom’s eyes, while his hands just flinched.

“Breakfast’s ready,” Tom said, his head appearing from the door. He wore a comforting smile, it warmed me up.

“I’ll come in a second,” I said as I tied the end of my right hair braid. When I woke up this morning, freaked and sweaty, Tom showed a lot of fondness bringing me water and measuring my temperature, although I assured him they were nightmares, nothing more. It just shown sparks of care, proves my point, right? Maybe these pills aren’t pain killers, but they must have been treating the whole swapped-feelings-towards-twins syndrome. I shall call it SFTTS from now and on. We always need shortys, don’t we?

Walking into the dining room, which is painted in every single screaming hot color with hanging photographs of, wait is that us? My jaw dropped as I walked past the first framed photograph to see myself wearing a swimming suit – mental note, orange swimsuits make me look like oranges- with two deadly hot dudes; Tom and Bill, each yanking me from a hand and we’re all laughing. I don’t know where the hell this is but we were having a good time. Okay maybe I did enter the dining room before, or more properly took a look while touring this huge three floors loft, but I didn’t really focus on the hanging stuff on the walls. I mean, I thought artistic people would put artistic things but this is getting interesting.

Someone coughed and I jumped to see Bill and Tom sitting around the lovely, glassy oval table. It was Bill who coughed, and he kept making eyebrow gestures for me. Let me get this right, the two of them were watching me get thrilled and heart gripped by the first photograph of a series in a room which I must have got used to, since erm, don’t know since when.

“Sorry, didn’t see you guys here.”I pulled a chair and sank in.

“No problem, we know how special this photo is for you,” Tom said as he played with my hair. Bill started pouring tea into the cups set on the table. Gosh, since when did these dudes become so old? I mean okay, I made tea yesterday – no actually Bill made that for me, isn’t he sweet? Ok shut up mind and focus – but that doesn’t make something cool of tea. I only made that to fit in. Whatever. I held the cup of tea tentatively, but to my surprise it was cold and as I approached it to my mouth, it smelled like peach, too. I took a sip, and yummy. It’s iced tea with peach flavor. Now I yank my words.

“Oh really, you know how special it is for me?” I asked, remembering his reply. Two aims, open a conversation, and know what was so special about it.

“Well first, it was Valentine’s Day, we were in Miami and you were so happy about my gift,” Tom said the words as if I knew them and that I remembered now all the happy Miami times and his Valentine gift. Going along, I put on a deep dreamy face and drew a super fake, calm smile – as if I remember. I wonder if he gifted me a yacht.

“Oh right, your valentine gift. Gosh I loved every bit of it.” I said putting on the most i-know-what-you’re-talking-about convincing expression. I glanced at Bill who was trying to keep his face as stiff as possible until the giggle came out. Oh come on, dude. Do you have to torture me like that?

“What?” Tom asked giggling along with Bill and I couldn’t help but giggle, too. I mean, Bill laughing, his cute wicked laugh, you must be super Mario if you didn’t laugh, too.

“Nothing, I am just remembering the whole vacation. How Sarah didn’t stop thanking you for the swimsuit. And how you read her mind bringing her the swimsuit she kept staring at in that shop.” Bill’s eyes broke into mine and my smile faded gradually. Not a yacht, I get it. But that orange swimsuit that makes me look like oranges? Seriously?

Tom’s fingers slipped into my hair again. “I know my baby.” I blushed for a second and suddenly his lips were in mine. Quick as the lightening, it ended. My eyes took sight of Bill involuntary, his face nonchalant and rigid, and then I looked down. I should stop staring at Bill or else I’ll stay lost in this weird syndrome I have. I looked over at the amazingly designed white plates on the table; each had a different dish; Nutella crêpe, fruit salad, sweet cheese and pies. This seems more like deserts than breakfast, but I couldn’t help but drool. Let’s start with the yum yum pies, and then have some chocolate crepe and fall into hyperness world. Before I could touch the pies plate, Tom set the fruit salad plate in front of me. “This is for you.” His smile was so wide and it would be cruel to break it because I want Crepe, maybe they’re not familiar with sharing. Ugh.

“For your only-healthy-food diet thing.” I looked at Bill to find him grinning. “You’d kill us otherwise.” Wait, what is he talking about?

“Erm, kill you, healthy diet or whatever, what do you mean?” I asked frowning this time. Bill coughed and pointed with his brows on Tom. “He’s not even listening,” I said and then, okay, maybe I said it out aloud when it was supposed to stay in my head, now that Tom’s head snapped at us.

“What?” He said innocently.

“Nothing, just keep sinking in your delicious Nutella Crepe,” I muttered. His face went perplexed.

“You chose this goddamn diet since ever.” Tom rolled his eyes. “Since you’re obsessed you’d become a cow or something.” I froze for a second. What the hell did he just say? I found myself pulling my chair away as I stood up suddenly.

“You dare not to call me a cow ever again you piece of-” hotness, yum lips, sexiness, I wanted to say, and then I tried to focus again, “You piece of, ughh.” I give up. I couldn’t come up with anything, seriously, it’s Tom Kaulitz. I watched the two of them stare at me blankly. I walked into the door but then I turned to look at Tom. “I hate your orange swimsuit, by the way. I don’t know what fucked up compliment I made about it, but it sucks. It makes me look like oranges, goddamn summer oranges.” Did I just say that? I looked at Tom’s face for a last time; he seemed a bit surprised, and well, hurt. I rubbed my forehead awkwardly then turned back to take a jacket from a stand and storm out of the floor.


I’ve been walking for around fifteen minutes now. I think I am lost somewhere but I don’t really care. I glanced at a shop that read ‘Buzz Café’.

Finally, something in English.

Sinking in my seat, I held the menu and then ordered a Banana and Chocolate Crepe – I know, I know. I am still starving for Tom’s Nutella one – along with mango milkshake. While waiting for my order to be served, I watched as people entered and left the shop from my seat. I am in a café, in Spain, actually an island in Spain and I am wearing fancy clothes – not that I wore miserable ones before but like the top I am wearing is a Harrods’s top, which means I’ve been to England, too. I wonder if I am also the vice president in some really important company and I have my own driver and stuff. Okay, let’s not go that far, I mean I remember I registered for Graphic Design and English Literature in college. So I must be some awesome bestselling author who designs her own book covers. That must be it.

However, this isn’t the issue of the day. How the hell am I here? Too many questions that are dizzying me and I need to find answers soon. So Bill refused to tell me the possibility and I refuse to tell anyone else about it. And honestly, the whole SFTTS isn’t really working because even if that was true, I must still have few feelings towards my husband. My Kaulitz husband. Like seriously SFTTS? I wonder if that’s a true syndrome anyway.

As my head piled with questions and thoughts, the waitress came to me holding a tray with my sweet looking crepe and milkshake. She set the two in front of me whilst my mouth went busy drooling. It smelled delicious, too, I thought as I sniffed. That’s how desperate for food I go when I skip breakfast.

“Sorry Madam Kaulitz, we made you wait so long,” the waitress apologized. Seriously, it wasn’t time for apologies, I just need to fill my growling stomach and everything will be fine.

“It’s no problem,” I said beaming at her. She nodded nervously. Okay, I wait and wait and then what? The waitress is still standing still in front of me. “What’s wrong?” I asked feeling slightly stupid, am I missing something?

“Erm, nothing. I just wanted to see if you liked your order, Madam.” Her face was red with nerves. Gosh do I look that scary? And for the record, I might bounce on her if she calls me Madam, I mean okay, I might be married to Tom Kaulitz but she didn’t have to remind me every second. Hold on, how did she know?

“How did you know my name?” I questioned. Surprise took over her face then a blush spread through her wide cheekbones.

“You come here every day,” she said proudly, as if I was something important.

“Right.” I nod then take a sip expecting her to disappear. Instead, it felt like her patience was wavering and she was waiting for something. Ahh right. She’s waiting for my answer. “Yes, it’s delicious. Really, you did a great job.” Now she seemed more surprised yet she flushed and did that ‘we’re on your service’ speech and vanished. Thanks God.

From the first two bites of my sexy crepe dish – yes, I describe food sexy… - I already feel stuffed. The café is becoming a bit crowded and from every now and on someone looks at me; their eyes widen a bit, and then take a seat near. I don’t feel exactly comfortable. Maybe I became the president of Spain, although I am not really Spanish or something, but maybe it’s some program for unemployed people from different parts of the world who get to do extremely awesome jobs in other countries, you know, to help the union of the nations. This must be it.

A freaky couple of girls approached me, grinning really wide. Okay no, they’re running to me. Oh my God, what if they asked me about my opinion of something political. Oh … my career life is over. I don’t remember any names of the presidents or politicians or whatsoever in Spain, not that I know the ones in Algeria, or France where I am supposed to be living.

“We’ve missed you,” one of the girls – brunette, green eyed and silky brown hair – said to me as she suddenly became all over me.

“Why the heck didn’t you answer any of our phone calls?” the other girl asked, who had really short, dark brown hair, and deep hazel eyes. “We were worried about you!” I didn’t move or answer or did anything at all. I only thought of one thing; these must be two curious annoying press girls who pop up to politicians that friendly and get all the answers they want this easy.

“Are you okay?” the brunette questioned as she jerked away and looked at me. Then she looked at my dish. “Oh Gosh, you’re eating fats and stuff,” she said staring wide eyed then she quickly pushed the dish away with her finger tips, as if she was disgusted or something. “What has got to you?” I just looked at the two of them dazed. She pulled the chair beside me and sat down, the other girl did the same. Jesus Christ, paparazzi are so rude nowadays.

hahaha I loved it, it's greater every new chapter.
I loved the comments such as "Like seriously SFTTS? I wonder if that’s a true syndrome anyway." "From the first two bites of my sexy crepe dish – yes, I describe food sexy… " and "Jesus Christ, paparazzi are so rude nowadays."

Crane: awwh thank you!! im happy you're lovin it! and seriously stop makin me feel funny lol xD thanks!<3
cofie: hahaha yeah those comments, im tryna be myself and write what usually comes to my mind into this fanfic lol thank you sooooo much<3

girls i started my exams today thats why i havent been writing anythin, i can barely collect updates xD anw wish me luck o.O and ill try my best to write a new chapty by the end of this week if i finished peacefully lol

Good luck with your exams!
I hate exams, can't we just learn something and not prove we actually know what we were doing this month in class? I mean, except in language classes, that's definitely necessary, 'cause you actually use that to comunicate, and that's more important for me than math. Luckily, I'm already on holydays!!! I love to be on a french school, we have more vacations than the other schools

*squeal* YAYYYYY<3
Good luck with your exams
This gets better...and better...and better...
:3 Sorry i didn't comment sooner I was at my friends house the whole week. :/
BUT KEEP THIS SHIZZLE TO THE HIZZLE AMAZINGLE.
...i try.

Thaaaaaank you gggiirls for being patient with me & & for wishing me luck in my exams, I know I sucked a bit in English though :3 like at some parts, I didn't know what to write in the essay which was about if we can achieve ultimate equality between men and women and I went like. "In religious books, women are asked to obey their husbands - but of course God didn't mean all the sick disgusting stuff men take advantage of..." and then wrote something like "which all close minded men should use that thing they call a brain..." and well, yeah..
haha okay I totally agree with Sophie, I only find languages important, I mean I wouldn't really use all the trigonometric function things in my life, would I?
and THANK YOU NICOLIEE<3 i am really glaaad you likeyy*-* and erm.. i get you. trying to use all those awesome words and failing, especially if you spelled them wrong (which didn't happen with me or something. at all.never...maybe once or twice only)

so erm..
here's the fifth chapter. I hope it's alright ^^

---

The brunette takes hold of my hand and puts
it on her cheeks, my hot palm against her face’s coldness. I jerk away
my hand involuntary.

“Garcon,” I call one of the passing waiters desperately. He doesn’t seem to
notice. I ignore the surprised looks on the freaking annoying, rude
paparazzi girls and start calling any waiter or waitress passing by.

“Hey, we’re not ready to order. I didn’t even take a look yet,” the brunette
says again. I take the menu off her hand and glare. Okay, I am going to
stay cool and act all grown up. I mean I am twenty or something, ain’t I
supposed to be all wisdom and stuff? Maybe I take yoga classes, too.
Perfect. The short haired girl finally sits and looks around the
restaurant.

“How come they let you come here alone by yourself?” she asks carefully and keeps staring around. This is getting really annoying.

“Ha? Do you think I am a little eighteen years old irresponsible kid?” I ask taking advantage of the fact that I am old. Not that I am one hundred
years old or something, but it seems nice to be twenty I guess. I love
the sound of the word. Twenty. Unique, right? No teen shit at the end of it.

As I say so, the two girls burst into hysterical giggles. This stops here.
I stand up and raise my hand to the waitress who served me earlier.
“Please.” She hurries towards me.

“Yes, Madam.” She stands still, shaking. Do I look scary or something? Do I
have a green face full of purple moles that everyone can see except me?
And maybe those two other girls had mixed me with some outer space alien
and that’s why they’re trying to befriend me, to know when I will throw
a chocolate bomb on earth like the one in Fairy Odd Parents. Oh my God,
then I am not the president after all. Okay, let’s go back to logic.

Although, honestly, my theories sound logic. I mean look at her shaky body.

“I need you to take away these freaks. How can you let strangers sit
beside your customers and search in their menus?” I speak as if I am
saying something like How Can you let the kids enter while we’re making love? Okay maybe that’s a bit too far.

“I am sorry I didn’t know you no longer speak with Mrs. Lucette and-” I interrupted abruptly.

“I was kidding,” I said quickly. Can’t I find better excuses? And those are my best friends? Oh my God.

I head back to the table walking in the most drunk-like way. Maybe I’ve
been given a little bit too much information these days. And those are
my bestfriends. Those must be the ones I share dirty secrets with, take
funny videos to, and prepare unknown recipes that taste like eggshell
with soil. I look at their beautiful faces… these are my flesh and
blood.

I am not really sure about the last one.

But anyway, best of all, these are my saviors. They’re going to tell me
every single boring detail of my life. I sit back and stare at them. How
am I going to start?

“Have we ever mixed eggshells with soil and tasted them?” I ask stupidly.
They both look at me and then at each other. Suddenly, they start
laughing. I beam at them, trying to replay what I just said in my head.
Did I crack a joke or something?

“No, of course we haven’t.” The brunette said. Right. I didn’t have to think
of that, I mean, that’s obviously why I don’t have the teen at
the end of my age. “But we did Salami along with ketchups and eggs. You
know last summer with the twins.” She winked at me and they both sighed
an AAAAH. So, I am the only one who doesn’t AAAAAH because I obviously
don’t remember the oh so hypnotizing memory. Besides, I totally forgot I
had the twins in my life. And Bill… Stop it.

“Lucette,” I say looking at both of them, trying to be smart to see who will
answer. They both look at me wordlessly. Oh come on. I have to tell
them, they’re my best friends.

“What?” the brunette asks after waiting. Ok, great. Next.

“Mirage,” I say tentatively then realize that they were only two. I could be real stupid at times.

“Spit it out,” says Lucette impatiently. I look at her in surprise.

“Spit out what?” I ask vaguely. She sighs and then she shakes her head.

“You planned your escape? Right. I saw it when you were in Algeria. You had
the countries, the times. You came here for distraction, didn’t you?”
she speaks and speaks and I find my head turning upside down.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” I cry out. She looks at me and
turns away. Mirage doesn’t move or look at any of us. Instead, she
holds the menu and starts tracing the meals by her fingers.

“Here they come,” Lucette says brightly. I follow her gaze to find Bill and
Tom entering the restaurant. Gosh, what the hell..? They find us and
Lucette jumps to hug Tom – maybe a bit too long – hug then gives a quick
hug to Bill. As she lets go of him, he shrugs. Mirage shakes hands with
the twins politely as they all sit down. Trying to keep myself
composed, I look at the crepe in front of me.

“So, you really wanted that crepe,” Tom attempts to joke.

“Ha ha ha. Very funny,” I say blankly, bored. They all look at me in
surprise and somehow I pull on a smile. Maybe a crepe isn’t all worth
it. I mean, if boys are not, crepes are? Their faces relax again. Bill
reaches for something in his pockets and produces a little cellphone.

“You forgot it home. When you plan to escape next time just keep it with
you, I got worried,” he says softly then he quickly corrects, “we, we
got worried.” Nobody actually notices but me. I stare at Bill’s face, it
gets slightly sweaty and he swallows then looks away, nonchalantly.
Unreadable. He’s always freaking unreadable. I take my very small hot
pink cellphone and look at its feature. Then, admiringly, I start
clicking all the buttons. Okay maybe not exactly admiringly, more like
childishly. Oh, lots of files and images. I open every folder and get
out quickly, afraid to sink in stuff I am not ready to know yet. Until I
reach one folder that has a code. Unthinkably, I enter my birthday’s
date. Incorrect. I enter my name. Very smart and intelligent, really
genius. Of course, incorrect.

Fine, I suck on my lower lip and try to think as hard as I can. What would I
put as a password if I was an old married women? Maybe my kid’s name.
But I don’t have any kids. Right, it must be my anniversary’s date but
problem is, I don’t remember that either. I randomly enter a password I
used to use for every single thing and network I used. It works. So it’s
true when they say people don’t change. Or they say they change? I
don’t know.

I am exposed to few videos. I click on the first one and a sudden noise vibrates from the phone. Is that me saying ‘Oh just stop it!’ Oh
my God. Everyone on the table stares at me and the phone and I quickly
click delete. Everyone’s stare is in disbelief, and Bill’s face is
somehow… white?

“Erm, I opened blue tooth, and probably someone sent it by mistake,” I make up a lie. They keep staring. “It’s okay. I deleted it.” They all start
laughing suddenly except me and Bill. We stay silent for a moment and
then join, a bit nervously. I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t
like it either. Did I record a sex tape with Tom? If not with someone
else. Oh God.


On the afternoon, we’re all sitting in front of the TV watching a series
the twins had. Tom prepared pop corn with butter flavor, and Mirage
prepared pancakes. Everyone obviously in this house knew how to cook and
prepare stuff except me. Not that I had the ability and forgot, I just
never been in a close relation with the kitchens. Like that time when I
was around eleven, I tried to prepare eggs and ended up eating smoking
burnt things that were supposed to be fresh and healthy eggs. And well,
since then, I have the hobby to just mix stuff and turn up with gay
recipes that end up in the garbage.

It was a really fun night and we all ended up drunk and putting really old
music and dancing. Georg and Lisa joined at around 11 pm. We had toasts
about things we made up. Like the one I made, ‘to our guest chipmunks,
may your visit be filled with all the,’ I stopped here for a while then
sat down again. Everyone considered my toast for a while. Then Lisa made
one for world peace, which if you take a look at the world, doesn’t
seem entirely convincing. But we were pretty pissed.

Apparently, my best friends are staying at our house. I still haven’t got a single idea about our relation and I am kind of surprised they hadn’t noticed anything strange about me. Or maybe these happened to me every week and I just didn’t know. Or can’t recall. Oh God maybe I have Alzheimer and I am one hundred and two years old but I am so rich and I had so many plastic
surgeries to look young. WITH ALZHEIMER. And I have kids and grandkids.
Oh my God, the Kaulitz twins are my grandkids, aren’t they? And Mirage
and Lucette are their wives. They didn’t tell me the bad news because
they’re sick of it, and my kids died, so they’re still waiting for my
death to monopoly all what I have.

Okay, that doesn’t seem much convincing. I mean I would feel old then, and probably smell like gardens or something.

At the start of the midnight, I am already two pissed, holding a cup of
champagne that’s swaying before my eyes. Its contents slightly spill
over my shirt. The room is blur and swingy. Tom’s laughing with Lisa,
Georg and Lucette whilst Mirage is brushing the fur of a pillow. I don’t
see Bill anywhere. As I try and stand up, supporting myself on the hand
of the sofa. I look for him everywhere in the first two floors, trying
to assure myself that I can see and walk properly. I continue to the
third floor where I hear his voice coming from the music room. I push
the door slowly to find him writing something on a paper then singing a
part of it. It is German, or I am too pissed to understand. He looks up
at me tiredly.

I approach him dizzily, then take a seat beside him and try to take a
look at the paper. But I can see the words squirming like snakes.

“What are you doing here?” I ask knowingly. “I searched for you everywhere.” He doesn’t answer. His face looks pale and soft, his eyes a little bit bloodshot, his lips wet from the drink and his short Mohawk hair is
starting to sway to one side. Without realizing it, I am slipping my
fingers into his hair locks and massaging his head skin with my finger
tips. He doesn’t seem surprise. He lets go of the paper slowly and turns
to me. As his bloody beautiful, yet bloodshot eyes meet my lazy drunken
ones, I am exposed to a new kind of alcohol. I move my sight to his
lips and I am slowly approaching them as he puts his arm behind my back
and starts pulling me slowly. But before I could reach him, I fall
against his chest tiredly.

“We can’t do this anymore,” he says in his smooth voice after moments of
silence. “We need to stop. We’re not for each other.” His words fall
heavy on my ears and heart, yet they seem so familiar. He carries me
steadily to my room and lays me on the bed. I close my eyes eagerly.
Every single thought in my head is screaming. Too many questions, I am
tired already. Yet slowly, and into the night, I slip lightly and the
mess starts fading into the darkness.


“Oh just stop it,” I cry out in pleasure into Bill’s ear. Bill’s holding me
tight, too tight into his body, he’s clasping me with both his strong
arms and tagging me along with every single move he made. His face is on
my neck, cold, tracing my features with his tongue; his cool tongue
ring is sending me shivers.

Hahaha mass production? I remember taking that! BOORING><
thank youuuuuu so much! you really motivate me a bit way too much but i cant complaain! your opinion matters to me!! thank yuuu again