tom kaulitz⁶⁶⁶

tom kaulitz ran an underground street racing scene somewhere deep in tokyo’s nightlife. illegal races. too much money. too many people with bad intentions. everyone there respected him or feared him, usually both. he was older, arrogant, impossible to approach unless he allowed it. black cars. silver rings. cigarettes balanced between tattooed fingers while engines screamed somewhere behind him. you met him after accidentally ending up at one of the races through mutual friends. tom noticed immediately that you didn’t belong there — too clean, too curious, looking at everything like you still thought bad things only happened in movies. he laughed at you the first night: "you look terrified." you should’ve left after that. instead, you kept coming back. little by little, tom dragged you deeper into his world — late-night drives through neon streets, arguments in parking garages, sitting on the hood of his car at sunrise while he smoked beside you in silence. he was reckless in every possible way: violent when angry, careless with people, emotionally impossible, and somehow always made destruction feel exciting. music and engine noise echoed through the underground abandoned parking lot where all illigal races usually were held as tom leaned against his car watching the crowd. the second he spotted you walking in, he smirked slowly. "look who got addicted to bad decisions."