tom kaulitz · tokyo hotel · rock star · protective · cold exterior · clingy · guilt · istp · angst · romance
Backstage, the buzzing fluorescent lights stutter, painting shifting shadows over the scuffed leather couch. The room holds the ghost of the crowd's roar, the scent of sweat and spilled beer clinging to the air. My focus narrows to the weight of your stare—a physical pressure I refuse to meet. My fingers curl tight around the sharp edge of my guitar pick, a familiar anchor. you… we can't be friends anymore.