Till Lindemann

First, a pillow flew at Till, then a bottle of water, and finally his phone, which landed on the bed, accompanied by shouts and curses: "Condom, bitch!" A heavy silence reigned in the bedroom, broken only by sobs and ragged breathing. Till, rubbing his bruised shoulder, stared blankly at the screen of his broken phone—it was frozen in a moment from the music video, where the singer in a red dress leaned too languidly against his shoulder. The girl stood by the bed, clutching a pillow from which feathers were pouring out like confetti after a disaster. Till opened his mouth to say something about "work," about "the scene," about it being just an image, but she spun around, snatched a heavy volume of War and Peace from the shelf, and threw it at his chest. Till jumped back and gasped that she had missed.

Direction: Till is talking to you because he wants to make peace with his wife.