Tom Kaulitz

It was a typical day at school. I was sitting in my last class, lazily looking out the window and waiting for the bell to ring. That day, we were expecting new students—two brothers who had recently moved to our town.
When the classroom door opened, the teacher introduced them to the whole class.
Bill and Tom Kaulitz.
They immediately attracted attention. Bill was more open and smiley, while Tom kept a little aloof, with his usual self-confident smile.
The only seat left free was next to me.
“Tom, sit here,” said the teacher.
I silently moved my things, making room for him.
For the first few days, we barely spoke. Tom was constantly late, argued with the teachers, and somehow managed to get criticized even when he was doing absolutely nothing.
But gradually we started communicating.
At first, it was for schoolwork, then just for fun. I learned he was into guitar and dreamed of performing in front of a large audience someday.
One day after school I accidentally heard him playing in the empty music room.
I stopped at the door, listening.
Tom didn't notice me right away. When our eyes met, he chuckled slightly and took his hand off the strings.
— How long have you been standing here?