I was one of those lucky girls that not only lived with the Kaulitz twins, but also did everything with them. I was pretty much their little sister in every way but one.
I was madly in love with Bill.

"Kilauea, are you coming or not?" Tom yelled, right outside my door. He and Bill were going to the mall and had invited me yet again. Not that I was complaining, of course. But it was only nine a.m. on a freaking Saturday! As I lay in bed, contemplating whether or not to get up and go, I also had to wonder why I was here. America was stupid. The food was too fattening, the people were rude, and the money system was screwed up in more ways than one could count. The only thing they had going for them was their malls.
"Yeah, give me fifteen minutes," I yelled back. "Ugh." I groaned and rolled off of my bed, hitting the floor with a thud. It was the only way I could wake up and wake up fast, because floors were very uncomfortable.
Sifting through my suitcase, I managed to find some black skinny jeans, red converses, and a red shirt with a plunging neckline. It was Bill's favourite; not that he'd told me to my face ~ I'd heard him talking to Tom about it. Tom had just shook his head and laughed.
Then I rushed to my vanity where I had all my tons of makeup and threw it all on; I'd made a point ~ but not in so many words ~ of doing it a little like Bill. After all, imitation is the best form of flattery, right?
I ran a brush through my naturally wavy hair, grabbed my phone and some cash and walked downstairs.
"Boo!" Bill shouted, jumping around the corner as I came down the stairs. I just glared at him. I was not a morning person, and he of all people should know that.
"Nice shirt," he said, kissing me on the cheek as I walked around him.
He always kissed me on the cheek. It was incredibly sweet, the way he did it, too. It was tender, soft, like a father would give to a daughter before sending her to bed. I absolutely loved it, and couldn't help but smile each time, despite my efforts not to.
I gulped down a half-cup of black coffee to wake me up, and set down the coffeepot at the exact same time that Tom came up behind me and poked my sides. He knew I hated that, yet for some reason decided it would make me happier today.
NOT.
"Tom, come on!" I shouted. "You know I hate that."
"Aw, Killa, you know I'm just kidding," he said apologetically.
"Hmm right. And since when have you and your annoying twin been so happy in the morning?" I asked.
Bill came up behind me and squeezed me round the waist.
"Because it's your birthday," he whispered. Oh, crap! Today? The time change had totally taken me by surprise. I'd slept most of yesterday and all of last night. I would have gotten more sleep, had Tom's obnoxious voice not woken me up. I still thought my birthday was tomorrow.
"Aw, already?" I asked to no one in particular. I didn't want to be nineteen. I was only a year younger than Bill then.
Bill. He was such a sweetheart. Kisses on the cheek and hugs around the waist were my favourite. And he did them both. The only flaw was that he didn't realize how much they meant to me.
Then I realized we were all still standing in the kitchen, the twins waiting for me to say something. I was staring off into space, lost in my own little world, and Tom was holding back a horselaugh.
"Fine, let's go," I sighed, throwing Tom a warning look.
Bill opened the curtains and it was already far too bright.
"Ick," I hissed, spinning around and heading back into my room. The twins exchanged confused looks, but the looks were evaporated when I came back out in my star-studded sunglasses. I pulled my hair back into a high ponytail since I was already sweltering in the New York City humidity.
"Ok, let's go," Tom said, taking my hand.
"No way, she's mine," Bill said, coming between us and breaking our hand-hold. Tom stuck his tongue out, but Bill just grinned. He was such a kid. I wiggled my fingers behind me, and Tom took my other hand happily.
Outside in the hall, people were giving us looks. It wasn't out of the ordinary, so I smiled nicely and nodded in their direction. I wasn't really paying attention to them; instead I was focused on how nice Bill's hand felt around mine. Ugh, get over it!I scolded myself. I didn't want to be one of these stupid over-obsessed fan girls. Sure, I lived with them, so I wasn't classified as a 'fan' per se, but I was definitely over-obsessed. Oh, if he ever got into my laptop…
The bell on the elevator scared me half to death. I definitely had my head in the clouds today and was not focused on the real world. I could have been hit by a tour bus and not know it…
"Jeez, Killa, you sure are jumpy today," Tom teased, elbowing me once we got into the elevator. I saw him look over my head at Bill ~ dammit I was so short! ~ in a way that promised birthday misfortune.
"You do anything I don't like today and I will be on the first plane back to Germany before you even know it," I warned.
"Aw, you're no fun," Tom whined.
"Tom, leave her alone," Bill said in my defence.
Tom pouted by himself while I pulled Bill down to peck him on the cheek as well. "Thank you," I whispered in his ear.
He grinned and donned a pair of sunglasses as well. The elevator dinged again and we were met by the swarms of screaming fan girls. It never surprised the boys, but every time it just astounded me just how many fans they had in each place. They probably had fans in Antarctica.
It took a while, but we finally got through the massive hordes of people and out the back door to the tour bus. It was a fenced-in area, which I was über glad for, and I was in the process of spacing out again when the bus door banged open and Georg flew out to me.
"Happy birthday, Kilauea!" he yelled, twirling me around in one of his bone-crushing hugs.
"Thanks," I wheezed.
"Hey, Killa," Gustav said shyly, restraining himself to the point of walking. He had his hands in his pockets, as usual. I loved Gustav; he was ~ next to Bill ~ my best friend. In some ways he was almost a girl, because I could talk to him about anything. He always listened, and never gave advice or said anything unless I asked him to. And he always painted my nails whenever I asked him to. He'd drop whatever he was doing just to put a coat of cherry red paint on my toes. He was such a sweetheart.
"Hey, Gusti," I said, hugging him as tightly as he did.
"Happy birthday," he said with a smile.
"Thanks," I replied happily. I was getting a bit more optimistic now that we were outside. Or maybe it was just the coffee. "So what are we doing today?"
"Ooh! Pick me! Pick me!" Bill shouted, jumping up and down and raising his hand like a kid at Christmas.
"Ok, um…Bill?" I said, playing along.
"Yay! Well first we're going to the mall, then lunch, then a movie, then dinner, and then we'll come back here and chill!" he explained quickly, going from excited soprano to out-of-breath bass in about four seconds. I couldn't help but smile. He was so ridiculously excited. As much as I didn't want to be running around that much, I couldn't find it in my heart to disappoint him. And plus I knew the rest of the guys would be disappointed if I refused, too.
"Sounds good," I laughed.
"Come on, let's go!" Georg said, grabbing my hand and dragging me to the bus.
"Why are we taking the bus?" I asked. That wasn't like them.
"We're not," Tom said. "David wants to give you something." Oh crud,I thought. There was no way I was getting out of it with both hands, either, because Georg still had one of them and I couldn't chew free in time. So I just went along with the four craziest, most lovable guys in the universe.
Ever since my parents ~ my dad was David's brother ~ died in a car accident when I was ten, I'd lived with Uncle Dave and the band, travelling wherever they went. They were quite the bunch…especially Bill… Dammit knock it off! I scolded myself. It had gotten so bad lately. I'd always liked him, since the Devilish days, but the past year or so I found that he was pretty much all I thought about.
"Dave wake up!" Georg shouted when he got inside the bus. The thing was freaking huge, and I understood why Jost always slept in it while the boys were all in a hotel; it was pitch black inside.
"I'm up, I'm up!" Uncle Dave called from the back. I heard a closet slam and immediately got the jitters. I hated surprises; honestly, truly, whole-heartedly hated surprises.
Bill sat down on the sofa and pulled me onto his lap. I can't say that I complained, of course. Gustav sat next to me, and Tom and Georg stood against the wall. Uncle Dave emerged from the back with a small rectangular package.
"Happy birthday, Kilauea," he said quietly, kissing me on the forehead. Well, now or never, I decided.
I took a deep breath and mumbled, "Don't watch me," although I knew it wouldn't work.
The wrapping paper was pretty ~ black with white and red polka dots in all different sizes. I loved how my favourite colours were so obvious to everyone. As I tore it open, inch by inch just to bug them, my heart was nearly in my throat. I realized just how much I really did hate surprises.
When I saw what it was, there was no way I could have prepared for it. All the time in the world could not have readied me for what my uncle got me for my nineteenth birthday. It was a picture of my parents. It wasn't professionally done, but that was what made it even more special. They were sitting on the wooden swing in my old backyard in England, under my favourite oak tree. Dad had his arm around Mom, and she had her hand on his knee, under his other hand. Their heads were close together, both looking at the camera.
My vision blurred and it was then that I became aware that tears were falling down my face. Bill squeezed me to him, but all I wanted was my uncle. Bill let me go and I all but ran to Uncle Dave.
"Thank you Uncle Dave," I sobbed into his shoulder, probably leaving tear stains on his t-shirt.
"No problem, sweetie," he replied softly, holding me close.
I stopped the sobs and left my uncle's arms with just a couple of sniffs before returning to Bill and Gustav. I sat between them this time, even though I think Bill wanted me on his lap again.
After a minute of quiet chatter, Dave got us out of the bus and to the cars. I left my picture in the bus for the time being; he was okay with that.
"Who are you riding with, Killa?" Georg asked, calling back to me from a few feet ahead. As much as I wanted to ride with Bill, I opted for my uncle. I was feeling a little attached at the moment. Bill kissed my cheek, just a touch longer than usual, and then smiled and got in his car. I thought I saw him throw some kind of look at Uncle Dave but I could have been imagining it.
We all got into our respective cars ~ Tom and Georg in the Escalade, Bill and Gustav in the Porsche, and Uncle Dave and me in the Lambo. I waited until the boys were all ahead of us before talking.
"Thank you so much, Uncle Dave. You don't know how much that means to me," I told him.
"It was something I've been saving up for a while. I wanted to wait until your twenty-first but I just couldn't. I'm glad you like it," he said with a soft smile.
"I didn't like it, I loved it. Do love it. I remember that swing…it was my favourite place to do homework in the summer. Under the old oak…I wonder if my old diary's still in my mailbox," I said, reminiscing.

"Look, Mama, I made a mailbox!" I said happily, pointing up to a little shingle-covered crack in the old oak tree.
I thought I was so clever, building a mailbox only my friends and I would use. Dad's hammer came in handy when I had to nail the lone shingle in front of the hole in the tree to keep the rain out. I was never prouder of myself.
"What are you going to use it for?" Mom asked me.
"It's a mailbox, silly, I'm going to use it for mail," I replied, as if it was the simplest thing to comprehend.
"With whom, though?"
I shrugged, not really knowing of anyone in particular. None of my friends really lived close enough.
"Maybe it'll be a place where I keep secrets," I whispered, in ninja mode now. Mom laughed, patting me on the head as she went to the swing. It was a sound that always made me feel at home, like nothing could go wrong.

But something did go wrong. One drunk driver was all it took. In an instant, my parents were gone, and I was on my way to my Uncle's place. In retrospect, though, if it weren't for that, I'm not sure I would have ever met the guys. I certainly wouldn't have been able to travel as much as I do. I had to wonder if my diary was in that mailbox. I wondered if the tree was even still there. It had probably grown around it by now; it's been a whole decade.
"Now, Kilauea…" Uncle Dave started. He was in that fatherly role now, but I didn't mind. "Bill wanted me to talk to you about later. So here's the plan; during the movie, he's going to get up and leave. A few minutes after that, you get up and leave. If anyone asks, just say you're going to find him, to make sure he's okay or something. He'll take care of the rest."
"Okay…but why?" I asked.
"He just wants to give you something. But he doesn't want to make a scene out of it," Uncle Dave explained.
"Do you have any idea what it is?"
"Honestly, not a clue. He's been being very secretive about it for a while. I don't think even Tom knows."
"It must be scary, then, if Tom doesn't even know," I said, slightly nervous. Uncle Dave shrugged. He did this when he didn't know what else to say and didn't want to repeat himself. I copied his action and played with the radio a bit. I finally found a good rock station and relaxed into the seat.
I think I actually fell asleep for a while in the stupid NYC traffic, but when I woke up someone was requesting the boys' song 'By Your Side' for their girlfriend.
"Aw, that's so sweet," I remembered saying, although I was still half-asleep. Uncle Dave chuckled beside me.