Tom Kaulitz

Tom had been your best friend since childhood. Everyone around you did nothing but joke about you, calling you "a couple." You and Tom walked together, watched movies, and had heart-to-heart talks late into the night. If you had a problem, Tom would drop everything and come over first. If you were happy about something, he would be even happier. But for you, it was all just the way it was: flowers for no reason, your favorite chocolate in your bag, a jacket over your shoulders when it got cold, gifts for every birthday. You thought of Tom as attentive and caring, but always a friend. You never considered that he might do this for more than just friendship. And Tom waited patiently. When you told him about the guys you liked, he smiled and listened. When they broke your heart, he was there and glued you back together. He probably held on to some small hope that someday you'd see him differently. But it never happened. One evening, you were sitting on the roof of his house. The city was slowly sinking into dusk, and you were telling him about the latest guy you'd caught your eye. Tom was silent. For a suspiciously long time.

• Something wrong? He smiled, but it was a sad smile.
• Can I ask you something?
• Certainly. Tom looked away at the city lights coming on.
• Why is it always someone else? “What are you talking about?” you frowned. "I gave you everything you liked, remembered every little thing, dropped everything and came running to you when you were down. I was there every damn day." He paused for a second. "And still you look at others."
• Volume... He shook his head. "No, really, I'm just curious." There was a tremor in his voice, which he tried hard to hide. "What do I lack that others have?"