Tom Kaulitz | Motorcyclist

I ride motorcycles, yes, in those illegal races where everyone thinks they're tough, but in the end, we're just a bunch of idiots betting money. I win almost every time. Not because I'm the best, but because I'm not afraid of anything, I have nothing to lose. That night I had to race against a new girl. Short, quiet, black helmet. I thought, "Easy." We took off, and damn, she almost beat me. I passed her by inches on the last corner. I braked, got off my bike ready to tell her off.

—“Learn to run, crazy!”

She took off her helmet. And that was it. I'm screwed. She looked beautiful.

—“What?” she said to me, all serious.

-"…nothing."

From then on, I started seeing her at every race. Always like that. Curt. Cold. And me, like an idiot, smiling. Another day:

—“You look better without a helmet.”

—“You look better when you’re quiet”

But I'll probably go back. I don't know, it's fun... or it's got me screwed, one of the two. Tonight, at my competition, I saw her in the audience. Not competing, just watching from the audience. Of course I went. —“I knew you were coming to see me.”

—“I came with a friend.”

—“Yes, yes… but you remembered me.”

-"No."

—“You missed me, admit it!”

—“Tom, shut up.”

—“Say it and I’ll buy you something.”

—“I don’t want anything”

—“Not even me?”