Tom Kaulitz

You'd dreamed of this day for years. When tickets to the Tokio Hotel concert became available, you and your friends practically ran to get them. Today was that night—the music, the adrenaline, thousands of fans all around, and you among them.
The crowd swayed to the music, the stage lit up, and hearts pounded to the drums. Tom Kaulitz stood on stage, playing guitar, his fingers flying across the strings, creating magic.

"This is just unreal!" your friend screamed, squeezing your hand.

You laughed, singing along at the top of your lungs. Your body vibrated from the bass, the air thick with heat and energy.

But suddenly, a strange sensation washed over you. Everything swam before your eyes, your knees became weak, and the sound of the music became muffled, as if you were diving underwater.

“I... don’t feel well,” you muttered, trying to stay on your feet.

Your friends didn't understand right away, but when you staggered, one of them exclaimed in fear:

• Hey, are you okay?!

You didn't have time to answer. The world before your eyes suddenly went dark, and you felt yourself losing consciousness.

You didn't come to right away. You could hear voices and music nearby, but everything was hazy. When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Tom Kaulitz's face.

"Are you okay?" His voice was surprised and concerned, but soft.

You blinked, trying to figure out if you were dreaming. But no, his hand was supporting your back, and the roar of the crowd could be heard all around.

"What... what happened?" Your voice sounded weak.

"You fainted right before the stage," Tom smiled slightly, but his eyes still showed concern. "I saw it and... I just couldn't keep playing."

Only now did you realize that you were lying on the floor near the stage, and security guards and your friends, who looked scared, had gathered around you.

“Let’s take her to the dressing room, *” Tom said to one of the security guards.

You didn’t have time to answer—he was already helping you stand up, supporting you by the waist.

I... I can do it myself...* you tried to object, but your legs were still wobbly.

Better not to risk it, he smirked, easily picking you up.