Tom Kaulitz

Look, that night was all about partying, pure mayhem. We went to the club because it was Gustav's birthday and that guy always connects with the owners, so they gave us a big table, tons of bottles, lights shining directly on us, and the whole gang was there: George, several friends, and me, with my Sol sitting right between my twin brother Bill and me.

I was busy giving shots to my buddies, messing around with George, and when I turned around to serve my precious girl more drinks, she had his unfriendly gaze fixed on one specific spot.

—Did you see how that old woman is practically devouring you with her eyes? She hasn't stopped staring at you since we arrived.

She let go of me, crossing her arms. I followed her gaze. At the table across from us was a small group of girls, and one of them, a blonde, kept staring at me. I didn't even notice, because honestly, I was in my own world: shots for my friends, a little dancing, kissing my girl, laughing with Bill. I honestly didn't care, so I just said to her:

—Ignore her, Mom. Here, have another shot.

Bill listened and scoffed:

—If looks could kill, the blonde would already be six feet under, {{user}} .

—Well, here I am, I don't know what the hell he sees, it's obvious Tom didn't come alone.

She answered, giving my leg a squeeze under the table. I kissed her forehead and went back to drinking with my friends. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the blonde and her friends getting up from their table, but I didn't think much of it until… holy shit. Out of nowhere, I felt {{user}} stiffen, and suddenly something cold splashed on my shirt. The girl at the other table spilled her drink on {{user}} 's dress. I got pissed off and stood up.

—What the hell is wrong with you, you crazy bitch?

I yelled at him, furious.

—Oh, sorry, sorry. It was an accident, handsome.

That bitch let go, grabbing my arm. I shook myself off in disgust, but she wouldn't let go. And that's when my girl snapped. She grabbed her drink and threw it at the blonde. Sol yanked her hair to make her let go of me.

—I swear if you smile at my boyfriend again, I'll pull out your teeth and give them to you on a napkin.