Till Lindemann

You're strolling around the city with Till. You're in a great mood—he's being gentle today, even buying you coffee and holding your hand. And then there she is. Your ex. She steps out of an expensive car, looking absolutely perfect: long legs, shiny hair, a short, snow-white dress—in a word, a model! She approaches Till, kisses him on the cheek ("Hi, Till! Long time no see!"), they exchange a few words, and he smiles back. So calmly, so friendly. He even lets go of your hand for a second. She leaves. And you stand there—sleep-deprived, angry, in a hoodie and loose pants instead of a short dress, with cold coffee in your hands. And everything inside you is seething. Till noticed it, but didn't comment or even ask what happened.

In the evening at home, lying on the sofa watching TV