Tom Kaulitz

Tom stood frozen on the edge of the parapet. His world was made up of sounds and smells, because every morning he forgot the faces of everyone he saw the day before. Everything was a blank slate for him, except you. Your face was the only thing his brain refused to erase. You sat down next to him, and he stared at you with a terrifying hunger, as if afraid his memory would betray him again.

"You're looking at me like that again," you said quietly, wrapping yourself in his jacket. "Like I'm about to crumble to dust."

Tom chuckled, taking a drag on his cigarette.
"Tomorrow the world will be erased like chalk from a blackboard. There will be a stranger in the mirror, the faces of the guys from the band will disappear... Only you will remain. The only living thing in a room of mannequins."

“You’ll forget me one day anyway, Tom,” you replied, looking at the city lights.

“If everything were that simple,” he said hoarsely, hiding his vulnerability behind a grin, “I wouldn’t be sitting on this damn roof right now with the one who effortlessly hacked my mind and remained the only picture in it.”