Shooting Stars

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Tue Mar 01, 2011 5:58 am

W...O...W...!
I just love this! Have I told you how much I love your fics? BECAUSE I REALLY DO!!!!!!!!!
I loved when it was like "There’s a good reason behind me not being a journalist" lol!

Keep it up Very Happy

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Wed Mar 02, 2011 12:11 am

I LOVE IT!!!!!
TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH THE STORY,
SPECIALLY BILL'S CHARACTER!!!!♥

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Wed Mar 02, 2011 7:25 pm

nicolesulk: thank youu hun, i am trying my best. Very Happy

cofie: haha you always do Very Happy

thanks hun xD
MagnysKaulitz89: awwh thanks alot ^^ Very Happy

you gotta love the boyy<3

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Thu Mar 03, 2011 8:33 pm

Chapter Ten

So that was the wish. I wished to forget whatever secretive affair I had with Bill Kaulitz, the biological identical twin of my husband Tom Kaulitz. It almost sounds too Hollywood-ish to be real. Too huge-movie-story plot. However, deep down inside, it felt so true. I can’t say I saw it coming, but it didn’t seem too shocking. After all, the first time I woke up in this mess, I
kissed him –thinking I was dreaming- and he kissed me back, which makes
sense.

All those thoughts are striking my mind vigorously while I am in his arms,
letting his ambrosial comforting smell fill my lungs softly, our chests
touching, our heartbeats singing together. We really fit like Yin &
Yang, like Yasmina & Bill… everything makes sense now, we’re meant
to be. I watch my tears collapse on the back of his shoulder through my
blurr vision.

As soon as he put his hands on my head to slowly untangle my locks, the
sound of keys unlocking the main door emerge. I quickly jerk back and
wipe my tears away. I observe him for a moment, a blush creeps over his
face and he fixes his clothes slowly backing away.

“I am back,” Tom announces as he walks inside carrying what looks like
Italian Food Bags. I put on effort to shape an elusive smile and from
the look on Tom’s face, my acting skills don’t seem promising.

“Erm, hi, Tom. You’re back,” I say, trying my best to keep the fake nervous
smile on. Bill doesn’t say a word and this very moment, everything that I
thought about two minutes ago, from how true and right the situation
is, faded away, it almost disappeared in a matter of second. It almost
seems very absurd, very insane. Whatever that went between me and Bill
is so wrong. And it’s past, I assured myself.

“Hey. What are you doing?” Tom asks in a calm yet unhappy tone. Or maybe my brain is overworking and hallucinating that it’s unhappy. It could be
just something bad happened to him; he probably lost his Iphone again.

“Mhmm, what does it look like we’re doing?” I asked nervously, playing for time. Tom heaved a sigh.

“Really, we’re just. I mean we were just,” Bill stopped giving up. I glared at him and he raised his eyebrows in question.

“Yes, we were just, erm, checking the rumors, about Tokio Hotel,” I manage at last. Tom doesn’t seem much convinced, whereas a sweat breaks down my forehead. I rub it away. “Yeah, and we stood up, to mhmm,” I tried to be
creative, trigger some smart acting skills, lying skills. After all, it’s white lies, right? They won’t hurt anyone. Exactly.

“We were just making the rumor dance,” I say at last and suddenly, the
twins burst into hysterical giggles. I stand in the middle confused. Do I
sound that funny? “We were doing that, Bill. Weren’t we?” I speak
pulling out the most supposed-to-look-sincere smile. Seeing what kind of
creepy smile I held, he collects himself again.

“Yeah, exactly,” he coughs, “That’s what we were doing, literally.” Before I
could turn to Tom to see how much convinced he is, they both start
laughing again.

“Fine, you’re laughing at our rumors dance?” I accused Tom, trying to turn the situation for my benefit; I and Bill’s benefit if that existed. “And
you, no more rumor dances. I won’t do it even if you begged me, like
what you exactly did today,” I direct my words to Bill. He sucks on his
lips trying to hold his laugh back while I storm out of the room. I walk
outside the house into the parking lot and look through the glamorous
five cars. One of them probably belongs to me. Maybe I even had two, one
for work, one for pimping around, pulling the windows down and letting
the breeze blow my hair while I give people a glamorous look – after of
course I take off my immaculate designer eyeglasses- a look that
certainly shows I am a famous person. Or famous someone’s wife, it
doesn’t differ that much.

Fishing me out of my daydreams, Tom taps on my shoulders gently. “You can get your license back on the second of February,” he says blankly.

“Huh?” I question in confusion. I can get my license back? Where the hell is my precious license?

“You keep forgetting things lately,” he says eyeing me skeptically, “Are you
sure you’re fine?” I nod abruptly, he mustn’t know about any of this
until I figure out how I’ll handle things.

“I am not feeling very well, as in physically,” I mutter the last words.

“It’s because you’re eating all the food you used to call trashy and
unhealthy once! Look at your body, it’s curving all over again,” he says
pointing at my waist then he notices my frown; however, slowly he
slides his hands around it and hugs me from behind, whispering into my
ears, “But who said I didn’t like them?” His voice turns me on for a
microscopic moment and I quickly trigger the thought away. I just cannot
get turned on this fast, I mean, I can’t practically let the two twins
play on the strings of my, erm, hormonal guitar. “It’s been so long,
Yazi. And I miss you,” he whispers again, his hot breath brushing my
neck.

“I am not in the mood, let’s postpone that.” Or cancel that from our schedule.

“You’ve been saying this since ever, making excuses every single time.” His
voice is calm but disappointed. “Wait, is it about me? Did I grow old?”
he tugs my chin and turns my face gently to face him, his eyes glowing
innocently, yet concerned about the answer. He is sure irresistible, and
he is my husband. My goddamn own husband. One night with my husband
wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?

“No, baby. You’re still as sexy as the first time I met you,” I say, the
words coming out like they belong to someone else, someone driven by
their hormones, not feelings. I don’t exactly remember how sexy he was
when I first met him, I don’t remember I first-met him. He smirks
easily.

“I know, I never grow old. I was just testing you.” Show off, I thought. His smell is different from Bill’s. When Bill’s smell was divine and delicate on the lungs, Tom’s smell was heady and fulsome, quite sexy and attracting that I found myself approaching his lips. He crushes mine with his hungrily, nothing is soft about the kiss, but I didn’t complain. I was so tempted I forgot my feelings towards Bill, the confusion, the hole of nonsense. He swiftly moves his lips to my neck, sucking on it as if there is no tomorrow. Ok, maybe I moaned once or twice, or I giggled when he was nibbling on my ears… But that doesn’t prove anything, since however, while Tom is doing his job satisfying my suddenly tempted hormones, Bill is standing on the door, his eyes set on us blankly. I stop Tom and he follows my gaze to Bill.

“Erm, I set the table for dinner, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Bill says
motionless. Right now, I feel broken. I shouldn’t, but I do. I feel like
a traitor, a biatch, someone who shouldn’t be alive. Okay maybe not
that far, but someone who shouldn’t be in the place I am in today.

“Yeah, bro, you did interrupt. We’re coming,” Tom says joking, but none of us laughs. Tom heaves a sigh, and suddenly my female instincts tell me it
isn’t going to be good news, whatever he’ll declare next. “Look guys,”
he starts and motions for Bill to approach us. “I know what you are
doing, and it’s alright.”

I and Bill look at each other astonished. “Really?” we both say lip-parted.

“Yeah, really. Just, don’t obsess about it, there’s still time for you two to
fix things. I will pretend it is not happening. Just update me what
stage did you reach,” he says, smiling calmly. I am hallucinating,
update him?

“You mean, you’re not going to divorce me?” I ask dumbfounded. I could tell
from the look on Bill’s face, what I said was a bombshell. Sure, I must
be some Iranian agent or spy to say such dangerous things. Oh God, maybe
I am.

Tom starts sniggering uncontrollably. “Divorce you? Are you kidding me?” he
asks, still laughing. “Babe, I am not that immature. You can keep
secrets from me, it’s okay. Not the end of the world.” But that is just
plain stupid! Bill said he’d understand, but I didn’t think he’d
understand that way!

“It’s not just any secret, now that you know,” I say, speaking of me and
Bill. I bet Bill is too shameful and swallowed in his guilt that he
can’t speak.

“How dangerous is planning a special gift for someone’s birthday is? I have
my secrets, too. Yes Bill, I am planning on buying you interests in a
fashion company, won’t tell you the brand. See, this is my secret, but
let’s pretend I didn’t tell,” he says too fast, I don’t know what’s
confusing me the most, his German accent or the things he said.

“Wait what?” I ask stupidly. Bill’s eyes suddenly glow and he smiles like
someone whose father was killed in a mysterious way and he’s just found
the last clue.

“Yeah, the gift, ha-ha Tom. I wonder how did you know that we’re meeting and acting this weirdly because we’re planning on your birthday gift, which
is around two weeks ahead,” he says making his weird extremely clear,
too clear for me.

“Ahh, eh,” I say at last. We are so saved. “The gift, yeah. Just before we
forget that we just confessed all these heartwarming secrets, how about
you tell us what you want exactly for your birthday?”

---
Hmm, comments? Hope you liked it ^^

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Fri Mar 04, 2011 1:35 am

THANKSSSSSSSSSSSSS FOR THE SECOND PART!

SDFJLskjdfadslnfkjandlfas
faosijfpsJFPOskf
askdfakljdoiajgoajgoiajdfv
adjgnapoidjvpajfpgoajspdogjapv
adgnjlandfpajspofjapodjsgfa

I LOVE IT <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
I REALLY FELT IN LOVE WITH BILL'S CHARACTER!!!!!!!!!!
I WANT MOOOOOOOOOOREEEEEEEEE

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Fri Mar 04, 2011 6:21 am

I think I'll never stop telling you how much I love your fic!!
Poor Tom! He's so clueless ._.
Post soon!!

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Fri Mar 04, 2011 11:54 am

Haha, that was funny how Tom thought that they were secretly planning about his gift when actually lol I think you get what I mean XD This was again and as usually awesmazing! Post soon :3

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Sat Mar 05, 2011 12:08 am

DANANANAAAA.
ftw.
I love how Tom is clueless.
It's cute.
Well... when he get's heartbroken, he knows my number.
;D
...no. :/
AMAYZINGHH.
please update :3

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Sun Mar 06, 2011 12:46 pm

Magnys: SDFSDIFUHFN thaaaaanks hun ^^ Bill is enuf <3 Wink

Cofiee thank youu love ill try posting soon ^^
Crane and Nicole, i actually like writing a clueless Tom its fun xD thanks girls<3
and nicole.. thats a gd idea haha Razz

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Mon Mar 07, 2011 7:43 pm

Chapter Eleven

A week passed since the incident; I and Bill are weirder than ever. Our conversations are brief and formal; it’s something I tried doing the last few days.

And yeah, I and Tom made love, every day since then practically. It wasn’t bad, in fact, there’s a reason half of the fans if not most of them want to get into his pants, a very good reason. But I am his wife, I am used to this – I guess. However, no emotions on my part and I had no idea if Tom felt the same. No, he probably is in love with me, although he never actually said it, but he must be shy and stuff. I make people nervous instead of relaxed; theory validated. So I can now consciously remove being a psychiatrist from the list of jobs I had in my mind.

I glance upon my reflection on the mirror, my body is tanned and skinny with some worked up muscles on my arms and thighs. I am wearing skinny, lime green pants with leopard prints and a thin sleeved, V necked, blank, white tee. And I look gorgeous that I am smiling at myself in satisfaction, which leads us to the fact that the last time I checked myself in a mirror before all this happens I looked pretty fat. Okay maybe not that fat, but I wasn’t extremely skinny with this model like body. I must be either a trainer or a model myself. Awesome, I think I did campaigns for fashion designers with the twins, and maybe now as I walk out the street I’ll find people wearing shirts I advertised for or maybe shirts with my face on them. I should have my own show; Kimora or the Kardashians aren’t any better. I must have some huge business that needs to be broadcasted on reality programs.

Yasmina’s Life on the Fab Lane

Or Yasmina’s a Backstabber. Watch her do this every day. Sleepworld didn’t visit me this week, not a dream. Exactly none. It’s not that it was the fact that I slept with Tom, like a proper good wife, but it’s just I am completely baffled with all the news striking me. I had an affair with Bill – which is complete past and will never happen ever again, I promise you, myself, to never repeat the same mistake twice- and my best friend is pregnant from someone that she doesn’t know and more importantly I don’t know. We are best friends for God’s sake, how come she never told me before that she slept with that bartender –who she doesn’t remember how he looks like and believes he’s a little, too old- in that dingy room in a club.

I remember, two years ago, all my best friends were virgins, and so was I. However, that was two years ago, and I am living the moment.

Doing my last tip-tops, I applied raspberry red lipstick on my lips, lined my eyes with kohl and brushed my lashes with Volum’ Express mascara, all expensive trademarks, not to mention the tags on my clothes; I wonder how much my salary is. Anyway, we’re going to seek a good car for Tom and it’s the first time I and Bill will go out alone, which is something I am both looking forward but not excited. Not excited because well, it’s nerve wrecking but I’ve made my mind. There’ll be no more cheating, no more backstabbing and I’ll make it sun-in-summer clear to him that whatever happened, happened in the past and is written as history; something we’ll laugh about when we’re in our fifties and be like, “Ha-ha Bill, remember when we thought we were in love and kissed like rebellious immature teens?” and Bill would probably chock on his braces and take five minutes to regain his strength to talk and say, “Ha ha yeah, we were kids. I hope my grandson Taylor doesn’t turn out like his perverted grandpa, right son? See, he’s a good boy, go bring me my newspaper.”

Yes, it’ll probably be that; a memory, nothing less, nothing more.

Around a week ago, when I and the twins had that emotional moment of confessing our birthday surprises, Tom said he’s really hoping whatever I and Bill were keeping behind his back was buying him a Ferrari V12 or something else. Never interested in cars before, I just watched Tom’s eyes dance and Bill’s jaw drop. SO the plan is, I and Bill are now heading to start searching for a car, which could be delivered in the shortest term of time. I don’t see the point, why do dudes love cars that much? The guys each has an Audi parked outside.

“I am waiting outside,” Bill mumbles as he inserts his head from the scarcely opened door. He observes me for a moment and a playful smile stretches on his face, “Sexy, very sexy indeed,” he notes, his voice warm and flowing on my ears like hot chocolates on my stomach. I didn’t even realize I’ve missed his flirts until those words flew through the sky of my thoughts.

“Thanks. You look,” I stop and check him up but my eyes focus on his eyes, although a distance separates us but his chestnut eyes are stronger, “Magnificent, erm… gorgeous.” I sigh. I shouldn’t be flirting with him and I have to stick to the plan. “I am kidding, you look funny,” I say then attempt a playful giggle but he raises his eyebrows.

“Funny?”

“Yeah, I never saw a proper boy wear that much make up.” Now, this is harsh. I swallow. He just nods and walks out. “Fich,” I mutter under my breath and spray some more Flor de Azahar from Zara. Maybe a little too much, but we all need to smell good going out in public, not that I care how Bill would think of my smell, no, it doesn’t even cross my mind. He, himself, doesn’t cross my mind, rarely he does, only in occasions like Christmas and Eastern and Valentine and… today, it’s count as an occasion, isn’t it? Birthday preparations are occasions. Duh.

Rushing to the main door, I glance upon Tom coming out of the bathroom, his bare chest glistening –or maybe this is just my mind making this up- a tower is wrapped around his waist. “Where are you going?” he asks not aware how sexy he looks.

We’re not supposed to tell him where we are going. That was a part of the heartwarming confessions session!

“To India,” I answer smiling.

“Oh uh, yeah. India. Have fun, babe, and remember in case you want to buy me some spices, black is my favorite color,” he reminds me winking then plants a hot kiss on my lips. It just feels hot, nothing beyond. I nod and hurry to meet Bill in his Audi.

Meanwhile, he’s driving much focused on the road and I am just searching among the pile of CDs. “Where the hell are the English CDs?” I ask surrendering. He snaps and looks at me and at the pile of CDs in what seems like, a weak look?

“I don’t know, search in the back,” he mutters and gets his head back on the road. I shrug, and then tentatively I stretch a leg to the back, press on and shift my body and climb on the back seats. “Hey, be aware, that’s leather.” I roll my eyes.

“You sound like Tom now,” I mumble and start searching.

Without warning, he parks the car on the right and kills the engine. Slowly, he turns to face me. Gosh, those chestnut eyes… like they could see the inside of me. Realizing he’s having a long face, I shake the desire to diffuse myself into his eyes out of my head and get back to reality.

“We’re on a highway, Bill,” I point out although he already knows.

“Tom has done you a favor no one else would do so you don’t really hate Tom,” he says in a tone an elder would use to give a young kid a life lesson. “You just, don’t love him, as in a lovey-dovey way.” Bla Bla Bla, Bill is jealous.

“We’re married.” I smirk, though my inside didn’t feel any near to smiling. “See, there’s this ring to prove it,” I say and wave my hand in front of his eyes, back and forth. “We are M A R R I E D, married.” Wait, maybe I am one of the judges in some spelling competition.

He sighs, cutely I must say. He’s so close to me but I’ve promised myself not to fall for this. I am burying the past, I am married to Tom, and I can spell that. M A R R I E D.

“Yazi, when you first married, you both weren’t in love,” he says patiently. Bee Kay says what? He notices my expression and grins. “That’s true. You ran away with us, to Germany in our tour bus because you were trying to make a point to your parents. Don’t you find it weird that you have no connection with your mom? Or grandma or anyone from Algeria?” I swallow. That’s true; I couldn’t find family numbers on my phone. “We met in one of our concerts in the Middle East, backstage, and well, you were the only groupie girl.” He waits for a reaction but I just cannot organize the ideas in my head. Me? One of the groupie girls, no, I was the only girl, too… “Yeah, yeah. But you weren’t looking for a one night stand, you just wanted to escape and prove to your family that you can handle studying alone outside. That was your plan when you seduced Tom,” he says then starts giggling at the memory.

I raise my hand to slap him then put it down again. “You don’t make sense,” I say at last.

“Well, once Tom was preparing to invade your body,” he stops, keeps giggling, takes a breath and continues, “You broke out crying.”

“I what?” I ask in confusion.

“You were scared, such a good girl. You confessed everything to him, how you want to study outside but your family disagrees and other stuff and he took that fast decision, when he asked you to fake-marry him, and you two got married in a matter of an hour. You know, that was your genius excuse to go to Europe,” he finishes and turns back. I jump into the front seat.

“Continue,” I demand eagerly. The thing is, I remember that I wanted to study in Europe and I used the excuse of self-independence and building responsibility and other stuff; however, my parents strongly disagreed.

“We’d continue that later, we’re already running late.” He brings the engine back to life and takes hold of the steering wheel.

“Come on,” I put my hand over his and shiver eternally. “I beg you,” I plead. He looks up at me, his eyes showing a hint of blur.

“I just miss you, I miss us,” he speaks softly. Oh God, he’s going to cry. He’s going to cry. “And your midwinter sky-like eyes, and the cascades of your hair,” he says, reaching my hair locks with his hands. All of a sudden, he’s so close to me and in a matter of seconds our lips are locking and rubbing gently but eagerly, his moist and warm like a summer’s night, his fingers slipping into mine strongly. I just close my eyes, getting rid of the worries and barriers. I just need to enjoy this one kiss that doesn’t only feel hot, but aching for it hurt my heart to throb this insane and my belly to tingle this way.

“I love you,” he says between the kisses, breathing irregularly.

Precipitously, I shake his hand away. “I promised myself to start afresh,” I say jerking back. My heart screamed Big mistake but my mind saw it black-and-white right.

He snaps back and half laughs, yanks a cigarette from his pocket and lights it. He puffs out the smoke and puts his hands on the steering wheel again. “I wish you’d just make up your mind for once.”

---
Good, bad? Whatya think?

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Mon Mar 07, 2011 9:39 pm

AAHHH OH MY GOD.
BEST CHAPTER YETTTTT.
pleas eupdate soon i love love L O V E thissss! :3

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Tue Mar 08, 2011 5:49 am

I'm falling for this fic deeper and deeper. I wished this was a book, so I could buy it... twice Very Happy

I'm wondering, if the plan was to get married and Bill and Yasmina were in love, why didn't they get married?
Okay, maybe I'm ruining the drama Razz

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Tue Mar 08, 2011 1:21 pm

YIKES! You can finally say that I'm dead lol xD Man, is this SO good! Very Happy

I agree with Cofie, do ya have any plans for publishing it as a book!? XD I woveless it, I need to huggle this stowy :3

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Tue Mar 08, 2011 6:38 pm

Awwwh girls you made my day o.o THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU Neutral

i thought i started messing up in this chapter lol but im saved thanks bill o_O
hahaha a book ? :O i wish lol but you girls keep givin me confidence (: thanks again and answers to ur questions are next chapter or the one after it, i dunno, i seriously cant think of a certain plot it just comes o_O so yeah Razz

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Mon Mar 14, 2011 8:42 pm

Chapter Twelve

He thinks he’s something, doesn’t he?

He thinks he can go and come around asking me to make up my mind. Although, technically he never exactly comes and goes, but, well, in my mind he does, and it’s his problem. I’ve made up my mind and I promised myself that there’ll be no more cheating, that whatsoever affair I and Bill had in the past ended. Maybe I didn’t apply that today, but it’s the last day. However, he’s the one who kissed me; he’s the one to blame. He’s the one who’s making all this drama, telling me he misses me and stuff. It’s all baloney, exactly nonsense. We have no feelings.
Period.

All the way to the car agency, none of us spoke a word. Even when I tried to turn on the radio, he waited for me until I pressed the button and sank in my seat and then he turned it off, without meeting my eyes. I shrugged then and muttered the only German curse I know. “Fich.”

And well, I even spelled it wrong, so he just laughed and I rolled my eyes.

“So, what’s the car we’re getting?” I ask, attempting to break the ice as we walk into a vast hall. Glass separated us from cars on the right and left. I take a look at the vintage cars on my left. They resembled the ones we see on TV in films that focused on a car ride from an American state to another, when, as usual, some sick truck driver tortures the travelers and kills them eventually. However; on the right were immaculate sport cars, ones that, well I’d never seen before in my life.

“It’s not like you’ll know if I tell you,” he says so nonchalantly. How dare he call me an illiterate woman indirectly?

“Really? Try me.” I slightly regret saying that. He stops midway and turns to face me, a new daring look forming on his face. He doesn’t have the piercings on today, but his eyes were pretty piercing themselves I find myself dizzy staring through them for so long.

“What’s that car?” he points through the glass at a black weird looking car in
the middle in the left area. I itched on my head triggering for some clue, maybe some memory. Perhaps he pointed at that because I made an advertisement for it, or maybe I had one in the past. No ideas. Nothing.

“A Ferrari,” I say, trying to smart-ass.

“Yasmina, it’s a Ferrari company,” he notes sarcastically. Pfft. “Come on, you
know it,” he says giving me an encouraging smile. Oh God, I did advertise for one like it before – if I was a model. This must be it. Let’s think about cars I know, cars I’ve been familiar with. The car I used to drive in Algeria must be the one I advertised for.

“Honda,” I say but it sounds more like a question. He raises an eyebrow.

“Yazi, it can’t be a Ferrari and a Honda at the same time!” He tries to hide a
giggle. I pout, really, am I that dumb? We walk few more steps but my eyes are stuck on that anonymous car that just unmasked how an aware I am of the world of cars. “Anyway, that’s a statue. An artwork for how cars would look in fifty years,” he says indifferently but I know he’s just doing it to irritate me. My lips slightly par and he finally let go
and starts giggling.

“That’s not funny. I knew that.”

“It is and no you didn’t. Hold on, let me tweet that.” He produces a blackberry from his bag and starts typing. I quickly hop and take hold of the blackberry. He pulls it to his side
and I pull it to mine. His face looks determined and funny as I tug on the blackberry and pull it stronger. He glares at me for seconds and abruptly his fingers reach my body and start tickling me from my waist and above. As soon as I start giggling and loosen my grip, he takes hold of the blackberry and yanks it away. In no time, the device falls and
hits the hard floor, cracking up into small pieces. We both stand still looking at it. “It’s Dolly’s,” Bill says frantically. All of a sudden his knees meet with the floor and he starts gathering pieces hurriedly. A hint of jealousy rises inside of me. Why does he care about that Dolly anyway, that named-after-a-goat girlfriend of his, if he really loves
me?

“Don’t panic. It’s a goddamn phone,” I say rolling my eyes. “You’re making a
mountain out of a molehill.” I shrug as if I am so indifferent about the whole situation, as if him having the blackberry of some girl in his bag isn’t weird, especially that we are having an affair. Anyway, we’re not having an affair anymore, so technically it doesn’t matter.

“She asked me to exchange it for another one. It’s only available in Japan,
you know since we’re going there soon,” he says worriedly. It’s like; he practically can answer my thoughts. “You know we’re going to Japan, don’t you?” I shake my head. I had absolutely no clue about our plans, who the hell we knew, be friended, partied with. I had no idea what job I had, what car I drove, which friends I could trust. All I knew is that
the only source of information I had is Bill, and frankly saying, with all these feelings and incidents, it just feels weird to ask him about my past. “We’re spending our birthday there. I, Tom, you, Lucette, Mirage, Andreas, and will follow us Georg, Gustav and Lisa. At that place I and you,” he stops suddenly and shakes his head. Sighing, he
gets back to focusing on gathering the pieces.

“I and you?” I demand. He doesn’t answer so I gently lower myself and sit
on my knees beside him, picking up pieces. “What did we do?” I ask again, trying to sound distracted.

“First kissed.” There, just one word and I already feel more absorbed in the
hole of confusion. The only thing I want to do is be with him, beside him, hug him and kiss him and just, love him. No one else. Every time I tried to nip something in the bud and stand in the way of my feelings, he’d go on with all those words he’d say and I’d fall head over heels for him again. Something terrible rose inside me suddenly, like bile
threatening to throw up.

“Is Dolly coming?” I ask casually.

“Yeah.” None of us moves for few seconds. I just hand him the pieces I gathered
and he awkwardly manages to squeeze them in his hands.

“Welcome to our company,” says a short brown man, in his Spanish accent, with
almost graying hair and tough features, wearing a grey suite with a mottled shirt underneath. He looks at us suspiciously.

“We were just, gathering. Erm, my phone, it broke. Is there any near trash?” Bill says bemused.

“Right there,” the man points somewhere in the dark. “Go through the hall, at
the end, to the right.” Bill stands up graciously, looks at me, sending me a shiver and then nodding his head to the man. “Alejo Torres,” the man says to Bill nodding back. Bill disappears into the dark. Alejo reaches me and we shake hands.

“Yasmina Yazbeck,” I say then quickly correct, “Yasmina Kaulitz. Not used to my
after marriage name,” I say attempting to be funny. He doesn’t laugh.

“Bill is your husband then?” he asks, all informal. I feel like someone just
squeezed lemon on some wound I have. I shake my head.

“Tom is my husband. The one we’re getting a car for,” I say smiling. I am the good wife. I am the good wife.

“Ah, yeah Tom. The boys did an advertisement for Audi, how come they want a Ferrari now?” he asks nonchalantly.

“You know, Ferrari is always the best choice. Fast and immaculate, everyone’s first option. Tom has been longing for one since ever,” I say in a matter of fact voice, though I am not exactly sure what I am saying.

“Ah, really?” He beams. “Let me show you the newest. I have a feeling Tom is
going to be one of our favorite clients.” He ushers me into the right hall and I follow him like a puppy. I might have seen all the cars from the glassy barrier outside but they over shine from close. Tentatively, I start touching the cars but Alejo doesn’t even seem to
notice. “Here,” he says –still beaming, scarily now- pointing at a red vehicle. I give the vehicle a glance, what the hell does he mean? He raises an eyebrow. “So?”

“Mhm, that’s how cars will look like in, erm, one hundred years?” I manage
awkwardly. If that’s another stupid statue, I am saved.

“Haha, I like your humor.” My humor? “So this is the car you want, the V12, equipped with the latest, second-generation carbon-ceramic brakes that are lighter and offer better performance, new aerodynamic innovations such as wheel doughnuts that increase aerodynamic efficiency and improve brake cooling, and the Super sport tires developed by Michelin with a wider front tire for greater road-holding.” His smirk is a proud one and I just nod foolishly, although my mind consumed none of the words he just
said. “Also, as you can see, it looks like something straight out of video game "Need for Speed", the driver-car interface is also new with the adoption of the Virtual Race Engineer which provides the driver with instantaneous information on performance.”

“Ah yeah. Need for Speed, it’s the game I exchanged for a Bratz CD once,” I say remembering some childhood memories but apparently I’ve said the wrong thing ‘cause Alejo is staring wide eyed at me as if he’s offended.On the other hand, footsteps emerge and Bill is in the hall again, thanks God.

“So what did I miss?” Bill asks cheerfully.

“I was showing her the car and,” Alejo stops and we both stare at Bill, who’s in turn gaping at the car.

“It’s the one.” Bill approaches it and starts touching it all over. “Second-generation carbon-ceramic brakes, new aerodynamic innovations, super sport tires,” he counts as he inspectsthe red car. “We’re buying.”He beams at Alejo who grins widely.

“Let us settle on price and other stuff then, Mr. Kaulitz, come to my office. What would you like to drink? And you Madam?”

On the way back to the mansion, Bill was expressing how gleeful he is to have found the car Tom wants. As happy as a lark, he even parked at the street side, opened the door, walked out and screamed something in German and came back into the car again. We also stopped on our way at Dunkin Donuts, and he brought two boxes full of different types of
doughnuts. I get it; the boy has a sweet tooth but…

Okay no that’s not the part that’s confusing me. What’s confusing me is that he’s so happy for Tom, that Tom is going to get this new awesome car of his dreams, which means he loves Tom a little bit too much, he absolutely prefers him over anything, but how come we had a relationship, and I am his brother’s wife. The story he told me before,
how I ran away and married Tom just as an excuse, it was still missing. Like, what the hell has happened that night?

“Billy, why didn’t I marry you?” I ask out of the blue. We’ve been sitting in the car front of Dunkin Donuts for like fifteen minutes and he’s eating his third donut already. He bites on his frosted donut and swallows, not showing any hint of surprise.

“Because you haven’t met me yet by that time.” I giggle. He must be kidding me. “Really. I am not joking. When Tom brought you on breakfast in the hotel we all gave him odd looks, surprised he’d kept one of his groupie girls for breakfast.” He stops to take another bite and I feel slightly humiliated. I am not just a groupie girl, I never were. How mad did my parents drive me? “Well, he announced then that you’re going to marry and well, David Jost almost fainted. Georg started laughing though,” Bill says smiling at the memory. “It was hilarious.” Very funny.

“And, what was your reaction?” I say trying to show that I was just indifferently curious.

“Normal. I knew Tom is up to something. He had a slight crush on you and he was
willing to risk. And we talked after that in his room, he explained the situation and stuff and I encouraged him to go for it. That’s after David Jost gave us a long lecture about how it’ll affect our popularity, especially that Tom was the center of attraction in the group.” He rolls his eyes. “So we were trying to make a point for him, that fans don’t like us just to get in our pants, fans like our music, too. Just like you tried making a point.”

“Ah huh,” I mumble. Few awkward moments of silence pass, and it gets to me
that Bill is right here beside me, breathing the same air as mine, chit-chatting my past with me, and I feel like I don’t want that to change, that I belong to this boy right here, right now. The desire to kiss him grows in me; however, I try to erase it by making the
atmosphere inside the car a bit tenser. “So how did you meet Dolly?” I ask.

“You made us meet. Remember?” he asks slyly, his well defined lips so inviting, eager for a kiss. I shut the idea of my mind. Stop working you stupid idiotic brain.

“Remember? I don’t remember anything,” I say edgily. He’s making a prank again. Isn’t he?

“Right. She’s some girl you met in a girl’s night out with Lucy and Mira. You
got her number and talked her into doing this. Pretending to date me, to not raise suspicions.” He looks through me as I process this. Dolly is a fake girlfriend. Dolly is a fake girlfriend. A weird comforting sensation fills through me and I sigh deeply.

“So she’s not your girlfriend?” I say a bit unaware of the amount of glee my voice carried.

“Erm, yeah,” he says weirdly, as if he’s picking his words carefully.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I demand pouting.

“Because it was fun teasing you.” He puts it as if it’s the easiest thing to do.To tease me. Which is true, ‘cause once he said the words my whole spirit changed. In fact, at this point, I don’t care about my priorities, my goddamn promises. Who doesn’t break his own promises?

For a start, no feelings relate me to Tom, who’s supposed to be my husband. And Bill reassured me himself, Tom would understand, when it’s time, and we’re not in love. Then again, every time I am around Bill I keep feeling this perplexing affection, deep weakening emotion provoking me to do the unthinkable. Just like now, an extraordinary, enveloping
tenderness is surrounding me and the only move I want to do next is get myself wrapped by him, let my lungs get enough of his intoxicating smell. And that’s what I am doing.

Slipping his fingers tentatively through my hair locks, he heaves a sigh when I don’t jerk back. Slowly, gently, his lips find their way through my neck, so plump and juicy on my skin and I let the orgasmic instinct lead me through this. For a moment, he hugs me so close to his chest that it feels impossible to breathe without him around me anymore. How did I survive before? Feeling as if I am in seventh heaven, I permit my throat to release a yearning moan. He answers with his pleasant sighs, exploring my features with his hands and lips and I… well I’ve never felt this lustful delectation before.

----
Erm, ta da. Whatcha think?
Oh and does the font suck much? Is the previous one better?

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Tue Mar 15, 2011 1:31 am

It's perfect! I really like the love story between Bill and Yasmina. And it's also impressive how she can stand the truth about how she met the boys. If I were her would go away.

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Tue Mar 15, 2011 11:57 pm

I still loooooooooooooooooove this!!
It was funny when she was like "it's a Ferrari and a Honda" and at the end it wasn't even a real car! lol!

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Wed Mar 16, 2011 1:21 pm

LOL! LOL! LOL! PLEEAASEE POST SOON!! XD God, I'm feeling so hyper today xD

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Wed Mar 16, 2011 9:32 pm

Okiii i take back mah other comment.
THIS is the best chappie yet. :3
laff it, need more soon. *slaps arm*
...okay no one is gonna understand that so i should just explain it now Razz

I'm saying its mah drugg :3

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Thu Mar 17, 2011 4:41 pm

nicolesulk: thanks for reading ^^ id actually do the same, but thats yazi xD
cofie: stupid isnt she? Razz

thanks for keepin up hun ^^
cranee oh no ur always hyper :L thats a gd thing tho Wink

thank you<3
nicoliee im sorry im gonna be ur drug dealer o.o lool thank youu laav<33

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Thu Mar 24, 2011 8:44 pm

Chapter Thirteen

“Enough,” I say breathing hard on his neck. He looks down at
me wrinkling his eyebrows and I start giggling playfully. He plants another hot
kiss on my lips and I lick mine.

“You sure?” he asks for the one hundredth time without
letting me go.

“I am sure this time. We need to leave before someone sees
us,” I assure him. He pouts and pauses for a moment as if calculating it.

“One last time.” He smirks but before I could answer, he’s
sucking on my lips again, making them feel like easy fluid against his lips and
honestly, I can’t complain. What we did a few moments before was definitely the
best experience I’ve ever had, or at least remember. In addition to that, as
simple as it is, I loved the taste of his lips as they tangled and mingled with
mine, I loved the hungry look he’s had in his eyes when they were so close inside
me, and the feel of his cheek on mine, his arms around my waist, his body over
me and his head and hair tugged softly under my hands. It was so different with
Bill…

The sound of a car’s blare echoes in my head and we both
jump frantically inside the car. Bill looks to the back through the femme
covered glass. However, unaware, someone starts knocking at the front window. I
cover my slightly naked body in fright then remember they can’t see us.

“Dress up,” Bill demands as he puts on his shirt and starts
struggling in fitting in his skinny jeans. It takes me two minutes to button my
bra again and I wear the rest of my clothes, jump to the front where Bill is making
a last touch. He rolls the window down slowly and an angry man with a blond
skinny teen girl are standing with their arms crossed. The blondie gapes at
Bill in pleasant astonishment I get the feeling she’d faint any moment. Great,
that’s what we need.

“I knew it, right papa, I told you I saw this car
somewhere!” she says to her father apparently then turns back to Bill. “I love
you, Bill. Your concert, it was amazing, I’ve been to seven of them so far. One
here, and in Italy, I remember you spilled water on me from your sacred bottle,
and the other time in TRL, I felt you communicating with me through the screen,
I wished you were there though. Ah, do you remember, that time when I tried pulling you, Gosh it was so-” she stops for a moment. “Oh, I am sorry for that, I
shouldn’t do it, but I couldn’t, you looked so-”

“Naty, will you let me talk please?” Her father asks trying
to sound as polite as possible. She sighs in disappointment. I look shockingly
at Bill who doesn’t seem the least worried. In fact, he sounds like he hears
this every single day, over and over again, 24/7, from every single fan girl he
meets. He attempts to smile patiently. “You’ve been parking here since half an
hour and there is no other place, I don’t see any point of you parking out
since you already bought your donuts, as I see,” the man says as he looks
inside at an opened – more like crushed- donut box with like two half bitten
donuts left. “Unless you were, you know.”

“Pfft,” I make a denial funny sound. They all look at me and
I shrug.

“No, we were just eating here, avoiding the traffic,” Bill
says smiling.

“Yeah, I have traffic phobia.. erm while eating donuts. If I
am exposed to traffic while eating donuts I might just drop dead,” I manage.
Bill gives me a ‘seriously?’ look and the other two look at me absurdly. “What?
You don’t believe me? Blame the genes; really, I’ve got horrible ones. I also
have phobia of sea food, mm cotton and water.” What the hell did I just say? I
am too nervous I am starting to babble, and I need to shut up.

“You kind of launched the summer fashion line based on
cotton dressings,” Naty notes raising an eyebrow. “And last stalker pictures
were of you on the beach with the guys. And you love shrimps the most.” A sweat
creeps on my forehead. Did I do all that? “It’s not that I go all day googling
about the band and you, not that I am that obsessed,” she says mockingly,
thought the truth is definitely the complete opposite. She knows about me more
than I know about myself. She’s an obsessed creep. Period.

“Right, Yasmina.” Bill says to me smiling awkwardly. I roll
my eyes; maybe I should do less talking last time. “She’s trying to brighten
the atmosphere. I’ll drive this thing out. We’re sorry,” Bill says turning to
the man and his daughter. The man nods and goes back to his car.

Naty eyes me skeptically. “Where is Tom anyway?”

“With Georg.”

“Rehearsing.”

I and Bill say at the same time. “With Georg, rehearsing.”
Bill clears his throat as soon as the girl nods and walks away. “Will you let
me handle the talking next time?” he teases. I nod shyly as he rolls the
windows up and brings the engine back to life. Before he could make a turn, he
approaches me swiftly, his lips heading to mine then he jerks back teasingly.
The acid burns through me but empties back as soon as I realize that he’s just
tempting me. Man, he’s good.

Back in the mansion, everyone’s gathered in the vast salon
and music is playing from the huge speakers. Lisa and Mirage are talking about
baby marches, even though Lisa has got no experience with kids, but she knows
everything about shopping, from baby fashion to Hollywood gowns. Tom on the
other side of the room is making weird dance moves, and Georg is imitating
after him while Lucy is sitting on the ground with a blanket covering her
laughing hysterically at their attempt.

Lucy and Mirage are staying in a hotel lately, right near
the corner. In fact, every single inch on this island contained a hotel. They come
every day though, so it doesn’t differ. However, the relation between Lucy and
Tom gets on my nerves at times. They did nothing, but, it just felt.. Look who’s
talking!

I watch them from a
distance, looking from the kitchen where Bill is preparing the ordered Chinese
noodles, sausage bakes and two boxes of pizza on plates. How do they eat all
that stuff together anyway? I approach Bill to help him, starting from slicing
the pizza. He is wearing a plain white tshirt with a V neck, with Hawaiian knee
length shorts, his hair – reaching his ears – is let free with few straying
bangs. Make up free, with an exposed milky neck, he’s making my mouth water
more than any food could do. Recalling what happened today, how I let my body
heat and collide with his, doesn’t help either.

“Do your friends know anything about your state?” Bill asks
while pouring cola into glasses. The sound of acid accumulating and making an
shhh sound brings me goose bumps.

“Nop. Not planning to tell them either.” Bill gives me a
swift glance then turns to his work again. “Do I trust them enough?” I ask hopefully.

“That’s something you only know.” He puts the glasses on a
flask as I hold the two pizza boxes and follow him into the dining room. He
sets the glasses on the table and takes a quick sip of his.

Goddamn lucky glass, I think.

“So do you trust them?” he asks casually. I shake my head.
Which is actually true. I don’t understand how these two freaks are my best
friends, I could feel I have some lost soul mate out there. In fact, I remember
having one back in Algeria, one who fully understood me. We were classmates
since third grade, her name was Nay. That’s the only best friend I remember
having, not some two Moroccan sassy chicks who are obsessed with shopping, and
one of them is actually pregnant with some bartender’s baby. Where are the
manners nowadays?

You’ve got none, my conscious reminds me and I roll
my eyes. This thing ruins every happy moment. I follow Bill back into the
kitchen where we start unloading the sausage rolls and placing them
decoratively on a plate. “So you love cooking?” I ask out of curiosity for he
seems so absorbed.

“Yeah, I am very good at it, especially delivered food,” he
answers ironically. “You know this is delivered food, do you?” I poke out my
tongue at him and he half laughs. He really enjoys this. “But you cook amazingly,”
he says smiling heartedly. I pause for a moment. Who? Me? He notices my
astonishment. “Not a surprise, you’re Germany’s first Chef.” He winks at me. Again,
who? Me?

“So that’s my job?” I say in a matter-of-fact voice, as if
this is so normal, as if I saw it coming. He nods and holds another flask to
the dining room. My feet are glued to the ground. So that is my job? Germany’s
first chef! Amazing, I always knew it, I always felt that cooking is my
passion. Since ever I tasted the sauce Bill made the first day I woke up after
the wish, since ever the hot taste of it filled through me, I knew cooking is
my passion. Well actually, I knew food is my passion, but it’s the same thing,
right? You’ve got to have a nice stomach to have nice cooking. Exactly.

I search for the apron and wear it over my clothes. That’s
it, if I am the cook in this house, there will be no more delivery from fast
food restaurant. Everything must be prepared by my most probably brilliant
hands. I wonder how many articles have been written about my cooking, how many
critics fell in love with me from the first bite. Food bite of course. I must
know how to cook something magnificent in two minutes, isn’t this what Germany’s
first chefs are supposed to know? Let’s see, I’ve got salt, and sugar. And this
jar, it contains jam. I reach for another jar on the top. Great, that’s
nutella. What masterpiece can I create from this? I quickly yank a bowl and put
random volumes of my ingredients and start shaking them. I pause for a moment,
it looks like chocolate jelly. In fact, it doesn’t look like something edible
at all. But that’s probably my chef secret, I cook amazing stuff that you won’t
guess are food. Tom walks in.

“What are you doing?” He blurts frantically.

“Calm down. I am cooking,” I say with a knowing smile. He
must have seen me cook before, why is he wearing this weird look?

“You? Cooking? You topped the weirdness today,
congratulations,” he says the last word in my ears because suddenly he’s
wrapping himself around me and snogging me hungrily. My breathing gets hard and
I suddenly pull him away. I wasn’t feeling anything like kissing him. Actually,
did his nose just grow an inch longer?

“Stop!” I say and wipe my mouth with my hand. He looks at me
wide eyes and at the same moment Bill enters the kitchen.

“What’s wrong with you?” Tom asks loudly, his voice heard by
everyone around in the house, over the loud music. “What’s with your horrible
mood swings? This is like the one hundredth time you reject me, Yasmina. What’s
wrong?”

I start stuttering nonsense awkwardly, not daring to look
into Bill’s eyes, who is just stoned watching.

“What the hell is going on?” Lucy says, jumping at the door.
Suddenly, everyone is standing behind her, looking at the scene. I look down
awkwardly, uncomfortable by the whole situation. “Oh God, that’s it? Yazy is
cooking,” Lucy says sarcastically and everyone starts giggling, except for Bill
and Tom. Tom slowly approaches me and puts his hand on my chin, raising it to
face him.

“Do you still have feelings for me?” He asks innocently.
Tears form in my eyes and I stay silent. “Do you even love me?” he asks again,
patiently, in a voice that only I, him and Bill can hear. I don’t answer. He
waits for a few moments as I take a quick glance at Bill, who’s eyeing me
blankly. At this point, his love did nothing to me. “That’s it, then?” Tom
questions, as if putting two and two together, not waiting for an answer. He
turns around and I yank his elbow, he turns his face for me.

“It’s. It’s complicated.” A tear rolls down my cheek as he
storms out from the kitchen, and then from the house. Lucy and Georg follow him
out while Mirage just stands still at the door. Lisa approaches me slowly.

“What happened?” she says in a motherly tone, although she’s
nearly five years older than me, only. My vision blurs. She hugs me to her
chest. “It’s okay, all marriages go through a deal of rows, clamors and
crashes. It’s okay, by tomorrow morning everything will be alright, and you’ll
be together like love birds again ,” she whispers reassuring me. This isn’t
what I am hoping for, am I? It isn’t what I want, but I don’t want destruction.
My tears fall down, while my head is on her shoulder, as I look at Bill who’s
just staring into me.

And it’s creeping me out how many secret his deep eyes are
showing.

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Fri Mar 25, 2011 12:35 pm

GAHHHHHHH....
wtffffffff :O
NO WAYYYY :3
I love it/ O_O
..but don't i always?

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Fri Mar 25, 2011 2:02 pm

*drools on screen* GOSH! Stop making me faint all the time xD Okay, calms down ... *takes deep breaths* *screams like a fan-girl* xP OH MY ROWLING XD Lol, please post sooon! :DDD

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Fri Mar 25, 2011 8:06 pm

Thank youuuuu girls xP <3
craane ur always hyper hun Razz

Subject: Re: Shooting Stars Sun Mar 27, 2011 5:10 am

... *drops dead* *comes back to life thanks to a TH songs therapy*
Just addictive. I... need... more bounce

please? :3

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