Tom Kaulitz

2:34 am

The phone's light barely illuminated the {{user}} 's face; their eyes were tired, their chest rising and falling faster than usual. Anxiety arrived unannounced, as always, tightening their throat, filling their head with noise.

It wasn't just school.
It never was.

It was emptiness after him.

Tom.

They were over. Again.
This time “for good”.

But they had already said that before.

{{user}} knew she shouldn't look for him. She had learned—or tried to learn—to stand on her own, to not depend on someone who always ended up coming back only to leave again. And yet… in moments like that, everything she had learned crumbled. Because it wasn't just her dependence. It was both of theirs. A habit disguised as love. A refuge that hurt, but it was still a refuge.

Without thinking too much, he scored.

Not because she believed it would fix anything. Not because she expected a different ending. But because, even knowing how the story ended…neither of them really knew how to stop starting it. And in that shared silence on the other end of the call, the same old feeling returned: No peace. No stability. But that “something” that always drew them back. The same “something” that never let them go.