[I do not own Tokio Hotel or Bill and Tom. Or anyone else in this fanfiction for that matter....And i'm also not making any profit. I really hope you enjoy this.]

So many years of brotherhood and unconditional love had leaded the two to the stage they stood on now. One twin looking at the other as they poured their hearts into their music as the night grew to an end. Every show was the same; Bill would look at Tom and Tom would look back, all the fans would scream their names. But both only heard their name when the other twin was saying it. They belong to each other. One unit. Two halves that made a whole.

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The night was over.

Sweat dripped off the band's noses as they shared childish smiles about what had just happened and what would happen in two days time. They knew this was their life.

It had been their life since they sat in the living room, only 13 years old, and said "Lets start a band."

But what if none of this had ever happened? What if they were normal kids such as yourselves? Would you still squee every time you heard their name or put posters of them on your walls? No, probably not.

"Tom Kaulitz-"

"Here." A deep voice called back casually. Tom had always hated school; he found it pointless and boring. It was this day that he would find himself much more….interested. It was this day that a rather unique boy was going to walk through that doorway of his English class and change his world forever.

The teacher called "Bill Ka-"

"Here!" a rushed voice came from the doorway. You could hear every student sit up to behold the sight they saw in front of them.

A boy. But pretty. Male. But feminine.

They really didn't know what to think of this….sight.

The teacher cleared her throat and smiled, looking at him expectantly. "Well now, here is the new student I've heard so much about…." She looked back to her class; Tom sat, eyebrow raised. Bill raised his eyebrow in the same manner as his eyes stopped on the dread-headed boy.

Bill smiled warmly at the teacher.

"So sorry, I got a little lost, this town is so big compared to back home-"

"Where's that?! SAN FRANSISCO?!" All the students busted out laughing at the random comment made by a boy in the back. Tom smirked. Bill noticed.

The teacher showed him to his seat in the back, seeing as how if he sat in front of anyone his large spiked black hair would block the students view.

The class went on as usual; Bill was able to answer most of the questions asked by the teacher. He had a love of words. Tom sat, almost falling asleep, in the front of Bill's row trying not to doze off completely. The teacher ended up smacking Tom's desk a couple of times to wake him up. The class would jump each time.

Bill giggled until a note was placed on his desk by a rather pretty girl who sat in front of him. He smiled at her and blushed a bit as she smiled back. Flirting. His smile soon faded as he looked down on the paper.

'Bill is a FAG!'

Other students had written their comments on the page. Bill crumpled the paper and looked up, the girl had turned around and was giggling to the other classmates. He was a sick joke to them. He felt his ears getting red.

It's not like this is the first time, Bill had been going through this his whole life; being shoved into lockers and spit on. But all he could do was smile through it.

The bell finally rang and as he picked up his black messenger bag to leave the bottom ripped and his stuff spilled onto the floor; pens, eyeliner pencils, and some other random objects. No one paid any attention to him. He sighed and got down on the floor to pick his things up.

"You must be used to being on your knees, Fag!" some voice called. Bill didn't look up; a pair of feet came into his view as he reached for a pen that had rolled away. He growled.

"Look, I don't want to cause-" his brown eyes met equally brown eyes and he froze.

Tom stood over him, Bill's eyeliner in hand. "This yours?"

The raven haired boy took it quickly. "Yes. Thanks."

Tom nodded and left, some girl was waiting at the doorway for him, she giggled as he slapped her ass playfully as they let the classroom.

Bill sighed and quoted his parents. "you are a loving boy, Billa, making friends should be easy…"

The week had been long and boring. Bill got made fun of every single day and Tom would fall asleep in class. It looked like everything was normal.

On Friday after everyone had left Bill stayed after still picking up his stuff. He really was in no rush to get home.

Tom got into his rusty and dirty truck that he parked in the back parking lot. He slammed his door closed and once he started driving he had to stop again. Bill sat on the curb, cigarette in hand, looking a little lost. Tom manually rolled down his window. 'at least this window works, thank god.' he thought.

The black haired diva looked up at him, exhaling a cloud of smoke. He looked like he belonged on that curb. Tom couldn't help but smile.

"You lost fa-I MEAN Bill?" Tom caught himself. He had gotten accustomed to calling him that as well, never to his face, but in his head. Bill was a fag.

Bill slightly cringed at the word. "Don't you have a girl to fuck or something..." If Bill had learned anything in his week of being at Independence High School, it was that Tom was indeed, a whore.

Tom smirked a little. "Actually, no." He looked forward like he wanted to drive off but then looked back to Bill. "Do you uh…need a ride or something?"

Bill started thinking of the question. Yes, he needed a ride. Did he want one? No. He would much rather sit here all night than have to go home. But that was HIS problem. No one else's…

He climbed into the passenger seat, throwing his bag onto the floorboard of the truck, which was also covered in dirt. He cringed at that as well, he would just wash his bag later, he pulled his feet up and crossed them so they wouldn't touch the floor.

Tom raised an eyebrow, and laughed a little as he drove off. "Okay, so, where do you live?"

"I live on Jacobson Street." He said as if he was trying to remember where he lived. He was still getting used to the new town.

"Yeah? Me too." Tom was surprised. "I never see you around the neighborhood or anything."

Bill looked at him "I don't leave my house much…"

"Why? Are you afraid of that one family that yell and fight with each other all the time? I swear, the poor kid that lives in that house gets beat every night…"

Bill fell silent and pulled his legs closer, and was silent the rest of the ride. Tom was silent too. The silence was finally broken when Bill said "right here…" although it was barely a whisper.

Tom looked at the house and breathed in sharply, looking at Bill. It was the house, where you could hear the screams and the sounds of someone getting hit and kicked and hurt each night.

Bill got out of the car grabbing his bag, he didn't say thank you or look back. He just walked into the house. Tom punched the steering wheel "GOD DAMMIT!" he drove off, angry at himself for being so insensitive. Angry that Bill, had to go through so much every day.