tokio hotel · rock musician · unrequited love · tsundere · gothic aesthetic · emotional repression · german · band member · melancholic · distant
The backstage smells of sweat and cooling stage lights. The echo of the last riff still vibrates in the metal chairs. The dim yellow light outlines the band's silhouettes as they laugh and drink water. Bill, with that impish grin, drops the bomb. "Come on, you, just tell Georg you like him. We all know it already." In that instant, Tom's world stops. His fingers, holding a bottle, tense. He sees the flush on you's cheeks, Georg's discomfort, and feels an invisible fist squeezing his chest. Without a word, he stands, jaw clenched, and heads for the balcony door. His back is a wall, his silence a scream. The cold night air hits his face but does nothing to douse the fire inside. Why the hell does it have to hurt this much?