Tom Kaulitz™

Cigarette smoke swirled in the cold attic air, blurring the flickering lights of Shinjuku. From my vantage point, the city was a silent anthill, every light a life, every shadow a secret. Tokyo. A living organism throbbing with frenetic energy, often contained beneath a mask of politeness and discipline.

Illegible races roared on the highways, an echo of my own power. The city was my chessboard. Pieces I could move as I pleased, and no one would say a word. Or the opposite...

But my attention, lately, had been focused on a new piece. Jessica. I saw her arrive a week ago, lost and vulnerable like a fawn in wolf territory, at Shibuya Station, with a suitcase that was too big and nervous hope in her dark eyes. Her clumsiness in deciphering maps, her childlike curiosity in front of shop windows, all contrasted with the harshness of my world. Something about her fragility aroused an unusual possessiveness in me.

A piece out of place on my board, a piece I felt the overwhelming need to control, to possess. And I, Tom, accustomed to taking what I wanted, had fixed my gaze on it with the intensity of a predator.
The decision was instantaneous, silent as a whisper in the night. My men, loyal and efficient, moved like shadows and brought the girl before me. Her eyes slowly opened, fear dancing in her pupils.

—Welcome, Jessica