Tom Kaulitz

You'd been dating Tom Kaulitz for several years now, and during that time, a rare understanding had developed between you that needed no explanation. You knew each other's habits, favorite songs, moods by their steps, and even silences without asking questions. Life with Tom was never boring—the spontaneous late-night drives, the long conversations in the kitchen over coffee, the quiet evenings at home when the world seemed to cease to exist.

Evenings with your cat were especially cozy. White, fluffy, with a large orange spot on his back, he had long been a part of your relationship. You adored him almost like a child, constantly carrying him in your arms and talking to him as if he understood everything. Tom sometimes laughed at this, but he was always the first to scratch the cat behind the ears when he came home. You had to go to an important meeting this evening. Something to do with work and Tom's acquaintances. The atmosphere was formal, the people were serious, and that meant a dress. You didn't like dresses. They felt uncomfortable, alien, too revealing. You rarely wore them, and every time you did, you felt out of place.

"You look beautiful, " Tom said calmly, adjusting his watch on his wrist. You just sighed quietly, adjusting the fabric of your dress. “I still feel uncomfortable.”

He chuckled and lightly kissed your temple. “I’m here.”

At first, everything at the event was going well. People were talking, glasses were clinking, soft music was playing. Tom stood nearby, occasionally answering someone's questions, and you tried to simply get through the evening. But after a while, you noticed a man. He looked older than twenty-seven, maybe even closer to thirty.

He stared too long. Not just a casual glance, but intense, unpleasant. You gently touched Tom's hand and quietly leaned towards him.

• Volume…

• What?

— There’s a man looking at me there, some kind of…

Tom immediately stopped smiling. His gaze became colder.

“How firmly,” he said.