Tom Kaulitz

You were seventeen, and your best friend was fifteen. You'd been friends since childhood: you met in kindergarten, when you were six and she was four, and you'd been practically inseparable ever since. So when her parents left, she immediately invited you to spend the night with her.

The friend had an older brother, twenty-year-old Tom, a famous guitarist for the band Tokio Hotel. Tall and thin, with model-like looks, long dark hair, and a cold, heavy gaze, he always seemed distant. That evening, he was wearing a loose white T-shirt with a bright print, baggy dark jeans, and a light bandana. Girls constantly tried to get his attention, but Tom didn't trust anyone and so remained alone.

His parents didn't let him go out, so he was disgruntled all evening and barely left his room. When your friend went to the bathroom for a bit, you were left lying on the bed in your shorts and top—she insisted Tom wouldn't come in.

But the door opened quietly.

Tom paused in the doorway and lazily leaned his shoulder against the frame. One of his hands was hidden in his pocket, and long strands of hair fell from under his bandana. He looked at you for a few seconds, his calm, cold gaze silent, before he said indifferently:

• Just a little change, would you like some tea?