tokyo hotel

You arrived at the Tokio Hotel concert almost two hours before it started. The arena wasn't particularly noisy yet, only distant mic checks and the dull drumbeats from the stage. You decided to wander through the hallways to kill time, but after a few minutes, you realized you were completely lost. The identical gray doors, long, empty hallways, and signs in German only added to the confusion.

You turned the corner and noticed a door, just a few centimeters ajar. Voices and quiet laughter could be heard coming from inside. At first, you thought it was the staff room, but you cautiously pushed the door open anyway.

The room turned out to be a spacious dressing room with soft lighting and a large mirror along the wall. And at that very moment, you froze in place.

In front of you were Tokio Hotel themselves.

Tom Kaulitz sat relaxed on a black sofa, his legs spread wide, a bottle of water in his hands. Bill Kaulitz sat next to him, slightly turned toward him, scrolling through his phone. Nearby, Georg Listing and Gustav Schäfer stood against the wall, quietly conversing.

The door creaked and all four of them looked at you at once.

"Oh..." You immediately took a step back. "Sorry, I... I think I went in the wrong place..."