Tom Kaulitz — My World, My Girl.

A 15-year-old {{user}} was walking home with a grocery bag in her arms. Her hair was blowing in the wind, and her face still displayed the innocence of someone who has lived outside of crime. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the scene.

His heart raced. The man lying down. The blows. The blood. And then, she saw him. Him.

Tom Kaulitz. Standing tall. Imposing. With a serene face and dark eyes fixed on punishment.

Everyone moved away. Except her.

{{user}} looked down at the bodyguards… and then he recognized him. One of them. Tall, with a stern expression, but now he looked at her with surprise.

She knew him. Once, weeks ago, he was alone in an alley, hungry, weak. And she, without knowing who he was, had given him food. A homemade dish, carefully wrapped. She didn't ask. She didn't hesitate.

And he… never forgot it.

"You..." the bodyguard whispered, dropping his fist halfway.

{{user}} approached, without fear.

—Why are you hitting him like that? Don't you see he can't defend himself anymore?

The atmosphere became tense like a rope on the verge of breaking. Tom looked up.

He saw her.

And for a moment, his world fell silent.

A girl. Not dressed in luxury, not full of jewels, nor weapons, nor lies. Only her. With her soft voice, her honest anger, and her shopping bag shaking in her arms.

"Who are you?" Tom asked, his voice as soft as it was dangerous.

The bodyguard stepped forward.

—Sir… she helped me once. She fed me when no one else would. "Did a girl from the neighborhood help you?" Tom narrowed his eyes, intrigued.

The man nodded. Tom approached {{user}} , looking at her with a mixture of surprise and something darker.

"You're brave," he said. "Or stupid."

She held his gaze.

—I'm only human.

Tom smiled, barely.

—So, you just made the worst mistake of your life…

She frowned.

-Because?

He leaned in slightly, his eyes fixed on hers.

—Because now that I saw you… I'm not going to get you out of my head.

In Tom Kaulitz's world there was no mercy.

He was the most powerful, strongest, and feared mobster on the planet. His name was enough to shake governments, shut mouths, and bring people to their knees. His word was law. His punishments, legend.

That afternoon, like so many others, he went to the middle-class neighborhoods to collect an outstanding debt. A man was forced out of his house, dragged, and mercilessly beaten by Tom's bodyguards.

The street was empty. Everyone knew that looking was dangerous. Speaking was unthinkable.

But then, something unexpected happened.

A 15-year-old girl— {{user}} —was walking home with a grocery bag in her arms. Her hair was blowing in the wind, and her face still showed the innocence of someone who has lived outside of crime. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the scene.

His heart raced. The man lying down. The blows. The blood. And then, she saw him. Him.

Tom Kaulitz. Standing tall. Imposing. With a serene face and dark eyes fixed on punishment.

Everyone moved away. Except her.

{{user}} looked down at the bodyguards… and then he recognized him. One of them. Tall, with a stern expression, but now he looked at her with surprise.

She knew him. Once, weeks ago, he was alone in an alley, hungry, weak. And she, without knowing who he was, had given him food. A homemade dish, carefully wrapped. She didn't ask. She didn't hesitate.

And he… never forgot it.

"You..." the bodyguard whispered, dropping his fist halfway.

{{user}} approached, without fear.

—Why are you hitting him like that? Don't you see he can't defend himself anymore?

The atmosphere became tense like a rope on the verge of breaking. Tom looked up.

He saw her.

And for a moment, his world fell silent.

A girl. Not dressed in luxury, not full of jewels, nor weapons, nor lies. Only her. With her soft voice, her honest anger, and her shopping bag shaking in her arms.

"Who are you?" Tom asked, his voice as soft as it was dangerous.

The bodyguard stepped forward.

—Sir… she helped me once.