CHAPTER 1

I'm just a girl in love.

But why, God, why did I have to fall in love with my dream man, his angel's lips, his molten honey brown eyes, his voice dark and sweet, his jawline so defined you could sharpen a knife with it? Why the man I have been traveling with for years, who knows me better than anyone on this planet? Why the man whose twin brother is the only one who knows him better than me?

Why the man six years older?

Why the man every girl is after?

Why the man I have no chance with?

I'm just a girl in love. But loving him could be the worst mistake of my life. Because I know I will be hurt-unintentionally, which makes it all the worse. Because I know he loves me-as just a friend. Because I know he cannot give me more love than that. Because I know I will try anyway. Because he and I – we're so close, on the edge of a cliff only I can see.

Because everything he does brings me closer to falling.

I woke up, gasping, from my dream to a typical hotel room; plain boring walls, plain boring color scheme, plain boring everything.

Ugh. I've been having that dream way to much during the recent weeks. The one where only Bill exists, where he and I are alone – and by some miracle, he wants it that way.

Then I realized why I was awake, exactly. The banging on the door and the heavily accented English of Tom's voice wafted through.

"Geht up, Zam! Ve need to gho!"

Time for work. Why Tom was waking me up I didn't know - usually Georg just came barreling through the door and wrestled me off my bed. I laughed at that. I fought with the oldest member of Tokio Hotel just like he was the older brother I always wished for.

Then I sighed. I was responsible for, of course, his microphones. Transportation, sound check-ing, all that. Even re-bejeweling if it ever came off.

I rolled up out of bed, honestly not giving a shit about what I looked like today, and threw on some jeans and a sweatshirt. I threw together the rest of my suitcase – we were headed to a new hotel today, continuing on their latest tour. I burrowed my face in my hood, knowing full well I looked damn ugly in the morning. I was still half-asleep, but trudged along to the boy's floor. As in, the workers for the boys had regular rooms, and the boys had suites. But I didn't complain. I knew someone as young as me was lucky to have a job, let alone one where they traveled with four living sex gods.

Exiting the elevator, I saw Georg walking toward it, then read the disappointment on his face when he realized I was up. Both of us had one thing in common that kept us from fighting – or, rather, did. Mock battles between us were very common. I had always been tomboyish, and Georg and Gustav were the perfect best friends I could possibly hope for.

"Sorry, dude. Tom got to me first."

I could read the confusion on his face easily. "He didn't come running in, pick me up, and throw me on the bed again, as is customary for you. Rather, he knocked on the door." I said in a British accent.

He laughed. I thought he might.

I knew, knew, knew I should stay as far from the band as possible, but I honestly couldn't help it, and they even came to me sometimes. Even though I was 6 years younger than the twins, the youngest, we were all pretty close. Like I was meant to live with them, hang around with them, be their best friend. I knew everything about them the cameras and tabloids didn't – it wasn't like I was some stalker or anything. I just knew these things like you know your best friends address and phone number without thinking about it, because you call and go over so much.

I was constantly amazed by that fact.

I turned the corner I was headed down towards Bill's room. He usually left his microphones with security so he could sleep as long as possible, but today he met me when he heard my soft knock.

Guess both twins were behaving abnormally today.

Of course, I knew why without having to ask. Bill hated flying in storms, and there was a hurricane warning today. He would undoubtedly be nervous as hell until we landed again. And because Bill was nervous, Tom was nervous.

"Hallo!" I said, way too happy for 4 AM. "Do you have them?"

"Here," he said, and handed me the heavy black case.

"Gracias."

No, I'm not Spanish-speaking. It's like I have my own language – I combine English, German, Latin, Italian, Spanish, and any other words I may know in other languages into one crazy dialect.

"It'll be okay, Bill. Vertrau mir," I said, using his words for "trust me". He managed a smile. Even that small nervous smile, though, drove me mad with love. I saw every part of him he wouldn't let the cameras see in that one, small smile.

I could tell this trip was going to push him over the edge.

Me too.

Trying my best to look comforting, I smiled back at him, turned my head, and walked away, leaving my heart at his door.