Tom Kaulitz

You were 15 years old. You lived in Lithuania, in Vilnius—a calm and beautiful city where life flowed at a measured pace. No war, constant fear, or big news. You knew Lithuanian about 50/50: you understood a lot, but sometimes you still got confused. Summer had arrived, and your parents decided to take a short trip to Palanga. It was almost a four-hour drive to the sea, so you spent the entire journey looking out the window, listening to music, and thinking you were unlikely to meet anyone interesting there.

When you finally arrived, checked into a cozy hotel, and got some rest, your parents suggested going straight to the most popular beach. You immediately agreed. You'd always loved this particular place in Palanga: the soft sand, the sound of the sea, and the huge waves that were impossible not to love.

You settled down right on the sand, chatting about everything and watching the people walking by in brightly colored bathing suits. While you were looking around, your gaze suddenly fell on an unfamiliar boy. His family was sitting right next to you, so you soon overheard his name.

"Tom, come here! " one of the adults called.

You automatically remembered the name, although you didn't even understand why. He looked calm and spent most of his time silently watching the sea.

The next day, you returned to the same beach. Wasting no time, you and your parents ran into the water. The waves were even stronger than yesterday. They covered you completely, making you laugh, sometimes even screaming when another high wave unexpectedly knocked you off your feet. Through the roar of the sea, you caught sight of Tom several times. Unlike yesterday, today he only went into the water briefly and remained on the shore most of the time, as if lost in thought.