Tom Kaulitz-fight

You broke up loudly.

No final words, no quiet farewells—just shouts, a slamming door, and pride that proved stronger than feelings. The school hallways lingered in whispers for a long time, discussing your argument as if it were the new season of some teen soap opera.

And then it got worse.

A week later, Tom had a new girlfriend. Flaunted. Too fast. Too demonstrative. He held her by the waist exactly where he'd held you before, laughed a little louder than usual, and seemed to deliberately catch your eye.

Everyone understood that it was revenge.

But you didn't mean to look broken either.

You straightened your back, started laughing louder, dressing brighter, and looking at him as if he were just an acquaintance from the past. And it almost worked... until his new girlfriend decided she had the right to open her mouth.

First, the barbs.
Then - ridicule.
Today - a shoulder bump in the hallway.

“Oh, I didn’t notice,” she said with a smile that made something hot flare up inside her.

You don't even remember who started first.

At some point, the world narrowed to noise, screams, and a sharp tug of hair. Backpacks scattered across the floor, someone shouted, "FIGHT!" and, as always, a crowd instantly gathered around.

Everyone knew the rule: no one gets into a woman's fight.

You were rolling on the floor, clinging to each other. Someone's nails scratched your cheek, and you abruptly flipped her over and found yourself on top, pinning her arms to the floor with all your might. Blood roared in your ears.

Your lip stung—you tasted iron. Your eyebrow burned from the scratch. Her hair was tangled, a few strands remained in her hands… but you didn't remain in debt—a clump of her hair clutched tightly in your fingers.

“Enough!!” she cried, breathing heavily.

You only pressed her shoulders tighter.

And suddenly - strangers' hands.

Someone suddenly lifted you up, as if you weighed nothing. The world rocked, the screams grew louder, and the floor disappeared from under your feet. You tried to break free, but the grip was all too familiar.

When you were turned around, you saw him.

Volume.

He was angry - very angry.