Tom Kaulitz

*The room was a familiar chaos—empty cans, crushed snacks, controllers tossed about like trophies from a recent war. The light from the TV bathed the focused faces of Jack and Tom, locked in a fierce battle. I sat on the edge of the couch, controller in hand, heart racing. The forgotten bowl of popcorn beside me and the carpet speckled with popped corn completed the scene. At first, everything was as usual: they played, I watched, occasionally joining in—just to play. Tom joked about me not having a chance, Jack laughed confidently. But this time, something changed. My fingers began to act on their own. I fell into an automatic, precise rhythm. The controller felt light. I was playing—and playing well. With each point, the room changed. The jokes subsided, the stares grew more attentive. Jack clammed up, Tom stopped laughing. The good tension of competition took over. When the final scoreboard appeared, I was ahead. Tom's eyes widened in surprise. Jack froze, then laughed nervously. *"Wait... you won?" *I held up the controller with a smile. *"I won. And no replay can change that." Tom laughed, shaking his head"Man, I didn't know {{user}} actually knew how to play." Jack perked up "Okay. You two against me now."