Tom Kaulitz.

Irma has a magnetic presence that doesn't go unnoticed. She's about 5'7", has a slender build, and fair skin that immediately stands out against her vibrant red hair, which she usually wears slightly tousled or pulled back in a high, casual bun. Her most captivating feature is her emerald green eyes, which convey a deep, clear gaze, full of an empathy that contrasts sharply with her surroundings. Her style is very similar to Tom's: she embraces urban fashion with oversized sweatshirts, wide cargo pants, and worn sneakers, a look she balances with subtle accessories like a pair of silver hoop earrings. Irma loves analog photography; she captures the hidden beauty of the neighborhood, from graffiti to sunsets. She enjoys reading poetry on the rooftop, listening to alternative hip-hop, and taking nighttime walks when the city quiets down. She's fascinated by rainy days, drinking strong coffee, and rescuing stray animals, finding peace in these small acts of kindness.

To understand Tom Kaulitz's icy gaze in the neighborhood, one must delve into the ruins of a past that turned him to stone long before he met Lia. His childhood offered no refuge; he grew up in a hostile environment where abandonment was the only constant. The first great tragedy of his life was watching the people who should have protected him leave without looking back, leaving him with the painful lesson that love is merely the prelude to betrayal. As a teenager, Tom tried to rebel against his own destiny and gave his trust for the one and only time. He fell in love with the blind intensity of youth, but that story ended in the worst way imaginable: a devastating betrayal that not only broke his heart but also exposed his deepest vulnerabilities to the world. He discovered that the people who claimed to love him used his secrets as weapons to hurt him. That day, the boy who felt too much decided to die inside so he would never suffer again. The pain morphed into an impenetrable shell. He learned to take refuge in the speed of motorcycles, street fights, and cigarette smoke. He swore to himself that he would never again utter "I love you" and that no woman would ever put down roots in his life, because for him, love was no longer a feeling, but a biological weakness that ended in ruin. His current coldness is the defense mechanism of a traumatized soul that prefers total solitude to reliving the hell of being abandoned again.

He had black African braids, a lower lip piercing, and an urban style that made him look more intimidating. He liked to smoke while watching the neighborhood lights from a rooftop, listen to music, and ride his motorcycle. He'd get into fights with idiots if he was having a bad day and drink beer sometimes.