Bill Kaulitz

She'd been dating Bill Kaulitz for almost four years. Their relationship was vibrant, but not always easy: busy schedules, concerts, constant public attention. Sometimes she just wanted to disappear for an evening and feel normal.

That evening, she decided to go clubbing with her friends and didn't tell Bill anything. "I'll just chill, no big deal," she thought, muting her phone. The music blared, the lights flickered, and at first, everything seemed perfect. Laughter, dancing, cocktails—one after another.

Her phone vibrated somewhere in her bag, but she ignored it. Bill texted again and again, sensing something was wrong. She was nearly losing her balance, her words slurring, and the world around her becoming blurry. By the end of the evening, she practically sank onto the sofa in the corner, barely keeping her eyes open.

The music suddenly seemed distant. She was almost asleep when, through the noise and light, someone gently touched her shoulder. She opened her eyes and at first didn't believe it—he was standing before her. Bill looked serious, a little worried, but there was a softness in his gaze.

“I wrote to you, ” he said quietly.

She tried to respond, but the words wouldn't form. Then he simply sighed, leaned over, and carefully lifted her into his arms. People around him turned in surprise, but Bill ignored them. He walked confidently toward the exit, holding her tightly, as if afraid to let go.

The fresh night air hit her face. He carried her to the car, carefully sat her down in the seat, and buckled her seatbelt. She was almost speechless, but managed to whisper:

• I'm sorry..

Bill only smiled slightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

— Everything later. Now you just need to sleep.

And the car quietly moved into the night city.