OKAY OKAY I know it's been FOREVER but I was still writing and then my parents took my computer away and so FINALLY I have a super long chapter for you all. I kinda guessed on a lot of the details so yeah...enjoy...

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A smile spread across my face and I raised a hand in greeting, still standing in front of the car door. Tom shoved out from behind me and I stumbled a bit. He gave me a teasing look and walked out in front of me, tapping the rim of his hat at a few girls up front. They just screamed louder and shook their signs harder. I followed my brother, taking the left side while he covered the right. I assumed Gustav and Georg were doing the same as I couldn't turn around to see them. I was too occupied with the sea of papers and posters being shoved at me. A maze of hands reached out to touch me. It was vaguely creepy, but the invading desire of my fans was comforting. This was where I belonged.

Almost out of nowhere, security guards appeared at my sides. They would tap and push me gently along as I skimmed across the side, signing whatever I could see. I wasn't too random with who I'd sign things for. I'd take the crowd group by group. If no one in the group stood out, I'd just sign the first thing I saw. If there was a hot girl in a particular section, I'd sign her stuff first. Yeah, I know. I'm such a typical guy.

Urged by security, I finally made my way to the doors at the same time as Tom. We'd done this so many times that we always got our timing perfect. The guards opened the doors for as and we stepped inside. Behind us we heard the final desperate shouts of the fans as the G's followed us in.

The noise suddenly died to a murmur as the doors closed and we walked to the left, just as the manager had told us. I slowed so that Gustav could catch up to me.

"See any particularly hot ones?" I asked him with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, Bill, you know there are always hot ones," he replied in a husky voice that hinted at humor.

"Yah, and fat ones, too," Georg added, laughing.

"Georg!" Tom called over his shoulder to us as he kept walking in a motherly manner. "That wasn't a very nice thing to say!" But he was laughing along with the rest of us. Joking around was what relieved the tension of playing a show.

Our prep room was small. It had a couple couches to crash on and schedules posted on the walls. In the corner was a cheap drum set to practice on and a couple guitars and basses. I wasn't surprised to see my bag, along with the other three's, tossed in the corner, just waiting for us.

Gustav was already heading for the drum set, so I threw myself on the couch. I was so light that it barely even shifted under my weight.

"Look out!" Tom said in a high pitched voice as he leapt towards where I sat sprawled out. I covered my face and shut my eyes as I felt him crash down on top of me with enough speed to make our combined weight force the couch to groan. He made a sound with his mouth that resembled a low explosion and elbowed me in the stomach lightly.

Used to his brotherly attacks, I merely pushed him off of me and to the side. I could hear Georg laughing and looked over to see he'd already picked up a bass and was pulling the strap over his head. Tom must have seen too, because he was suddenly taking charge.

"Hey, let's do Monsoon," he ordered as he lifted a guitar off the floor and placed it in his lap.

"Fine with me," Gustav agreed, twirling a drumstick in one hand. Gustav was always ready to play something. I secretly thought he just liked hitting things.

"Alright then, in English," I said. I wanted to practice in the language I was going to use tonight.

"Nein. In German."

"Who says you get to decide?"

"I'm the oldest twin. Deal with it."

"Fucking make me."

I kicked his elbow with my foot and glared, but he was already playing the opening notes. Gustav caught the beat and started playing within the first two notes. Georg was soon to follow. Grudgingly, I sat up and cleared my throat.

"Das fenster öffnet sich nicht mehr," I started, my voice filling the room.

We continued like that for the next five minutes or so until the door burst open and four people walked in. They were dressed in matching security jackets. I immediately stopped singing and looked up, ready to go. The warm up had gotten me excited to perform.

"Alright, let's go, let's go," they were saying, motioning for us and taking the instruments out of our hands. Shit, they were pushy. We must be really behind. Gustav just kept banging away on the drum set. As Tom and I were hustled out of the room, I saw Georg run behind Gustav and steal his hat. From behind me, I heard the drums suddenly stop with a crash and several loud obscene words aimed at Georg.

Overall, the sound check went well. Everything ran smoothly. Tom was picky, as usual, about how loud his guitar was, but other than that, the sound crew seemed happy with how our music was being projected into the huge room. I always loved to hear how loud and reverberating my voice was before the room was so full of fans' voices that it was hard to really hear it. I even chanted "I Am Iron Man!" in English because I'd just seen the movie on a plane the other day. That made everyone laugh.

There were only three hours left until we were going to perform. Even throughout the sound check and practice, we could all feel each other's nervousness. Tom's especially rubbed off on me. It's a twin thing. I can feel when he's upset or worried about something, and he can for me as well. It came in handy some times, but in situations like this one, it only added to my jittery nerves.

Next, we were hurried into a room occupied by a interviewer and camera crew. The order of events were so ordinary to us that we hardly noticed the sudden pressure to think of creative, new answers to the same questions over and over. Tom took over, as usual, and started ranting about something that happened once at a show.

"There was this one chick, and, ehm, she was just bright, y'know? She had like a billion of those glow in the dark bracelets on her, around her neck and her wrists and stuff…and I'm trying to play guitar and then I look out into the crowd and see here and it's like ah!" He shielded his eyes and laughed along with the interviewer. Whether the interviewer thought it was funny or not, I couldn't tell. They always thought whatever you had to say was funny. I started zoning out, only listening to hear my name or if a question was aimed at me.

The lack of concentration helped. Before I knew it, I felt the others starting to get up off the couch next to me and I quickly followed, trying not to look like I hadn't been paying attention to the camera. We shook hands, said thank you, and left. Now it was off to a final sound check and then we had an hour or so to get ready for the show.

The last sound check was a breeze. Everything was practically the same. The only thing they'd changed was the timing of the strobe lights and how loud Tom's guitar was, of course. I liked to tease him about how particular he was about it, but it usually ended in a fight. Not a scrape where one of us ended on the floor bleeding, but a brotherly tussle. Unfortunately, I usually lost these, because Tom's baggy clothes were so heavy. If I was trying to pull him off me, half the time I'd grab loose folds of cloth instead of him. My own lack of muscle didn't help either, but Tom was practically cheating with the extra weight his clothes gave him.

I soon found myself standing in front of the bathroom, adding layer after layer of hairspray to my deflating hair. The others were off doing various things to prepare themselves. I could hear Tom air guitaring on the other side of the bathroom door. I always found it amusing how he could sing riffs from our songs using words like "bah dah luh," or "Nuh nah nuh." He was currently humming Break Away. "Bahduhluh Bahduhluh Bahduhlah Bahduhluh duh duh." That weird twin vibe shot threw me again as I listened to him hum. I looked over at the clock sitting on the countertop, realized there was only forty minutes left, and felt a shiver go down my spine. Outside the bathroom, there was a short pause in Tom's air guitaring.

Running my eyes over the mane of black that was my hair, I checked to see if everything was as perfect as it possibly could be. I liked perfection before the show, so that as I was rocking out on stage, it would be okay if it got messed up slightly. I wiped away a smudge of make up out of the corner of my eye and redrew it carefully with my eyeliner pencil. Careful to not mess up anything else, I placed the hairspray back in my bag, along with my make up and other various hair items.

A loud, sudden bang on the door made me jump in reflex. I was nervous enough already that this didn't help one bit.

"Out of the bathroom already! I've been waiting twenty minutes to piss," Georg complained as his fist beat against the door again. Done with the bathroom, I decided to stay inside anyway. Who said a little fun before the show would hurt anybody? I tried not to burst out laughing as I imagined his strained face. Quickly grabbing my hairspray from my bag again, I sprayed it in a variety of long and short bursts in the air. I hoped it sounded like I was still fixing my hair.

"Not done yet!" I called over my shoulder towards the door. "Has to be perfect!" My lack of proper grammar would make him think I was concentrating on my hair, when in actuality, I was practically holding my breath to keep from laughing out loud.

"Bill!" Georg shouted, hitting the door three times in a row. Next to him I could hear Tom laughing. My twin's laughter was a confirmation that my image of Georg's face had been correct. My insides shook with sly mirth. I had to cover my mouth to muffle the short chuckle that escaped, but I failed to mute the gasp that I involuntarily had released. The sharp intake of air clued Georg in on my prank.

"BILL!" Georg was furious. I could tell that he could tell that I was pretending. My false pretense was up, but that didn't mean I had to let him in just yet. "I really have to go! This isn't funny. Open the fucking door!"

"Nein!"

"God dammit, Bill, OPEN THE DOOR."

"Make me," I taunted, letting my laughter roll freely off my tongue now. The poor door shook like it was going to snap in half. I watched the handle twitch as he jerked it back and forth with the hand that wasn't busy trying to break the door down. For a second, fear flashed through me as I pictured what could happen to me as if I took this too far. Tom and I weren't the only ones who fought.

"Why didn't you go earlier when it wasn't so bad?" I taunted. I heard him groan as he replied in a rushed sentence.

" 'Cause Gustav and I were in the middle of a video game and I didn't want to lose so will you PLEASE JUST OPEN THE DOOR?!"

Sounds of laughter identical to my own were coming from the other side of the door as well. This infuriated Georg. I heard him bang two last times, very roughly. My eyes were squeezed shut against the tears that threatened to brim over and ruin my make up. This fact and the fact that Georg was about ready to murder me at this point, was enough.

I ripped up my bag quickly, hairspray still in hand. Bracing myself, I shouldered my bag and took a deep breath. It was hard to do. With a quick, lithe motion, I pulled the door open so that it was a barrier between the fuming Georg and myself. He was in the room within a half a second. As he turned to reach for me, I sprayed my hairspray in the general direction of his face, probably missing because I was already racing to get out and to the safety that was the wall next to Tom. I succeeded, narrowly missing the door slamming on the back of my foot.

Both Tom and I couldn't even breathe. These were the good times. The times when we could just laugh until we felt lightheaded and dizzy. It brought us together as brothers, and the whole band into a single unit. Then we heard the sound of Georg relieving himself. I was laughing so uncontrollably, I leaned against Tom to keep from sliding down the wall as I gasped for air. He leaned back, doing the same.

Before long there was only half an hour left. It was time for our ritual. Gustav was already sitting on the couch, plugged in to his ipod. There was a distance, closed look to his eyes. Georg, Tom and I made our way towards him. Tom sprawled in a large armchair across from him, while Georg sat down on the floor, legs crossed. He folded his hands together, his elbows resting on his knees. His long brown hair filtered across his face, lost in thought. I could feel the nervous atmosphere kicking in again. Instead of sitting, I leaned against a wall, one knee folded with my foot flat against the wall as well. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and sang the words in my head again.

We were all swimming in our own seas of anxiety. It was something we all did half an hour before a show. The jittery twitching of my stomach muscles made me bite my lower lip slightly. I've done this too many times to count. I should be used to it, but I wasn't. I hoped I never did. The anxiety leading up to the show made the performance even better.

It seemed that those last thirty minutes had passed all too quickly. Right on time, we were hustled to right behind the stage. I tried to pay attention as a grumpy-sounding man explained what we had to do, just minutes before the show would start. In the background I could faintly hear the screaming. Didn't their lungs ever give out?

"Okay, you're all set. Go out there and rock!" he suddenly finished, his voice changing pitch as he tried to be more enthusiastic. We all stood there for a few seconds, completely not focusing on what we had to do. If we didn't think about it, we could do it better than if we did. Gustav led the way to the stage and the screaming, followed closely by Georg and Tom. They already had their instruments in hand. I was to make my appearance last, when the first words of "Ready, Set, Go!" began. Desperate to gather myself, I closed my eyes and listened to the microphone in my ear tell me what to do, blindly following.

"Get ready." I took a breath.

"Mic in hand." I clenched my fingers around it tightly. I heard the soft clicking of the beat in my ear. I nodded my head to it slightly to get the rhythm in my veins.

"Two measures," the voice told me. "One, two, three, four…" I opened my eyes as the calm voice counted the first measure and rushed towards the stage. Right on cue I sang the words.

"We," I sang loud and clear into the mic. The fans went wild. It was dark and there were lights all around us. I could feel the cameras on my face and the adoring eyes of hundreds of fans. "Were running through the town," I continued, happy to hear that my voice was hitting each note perfectly so far. "Our senses had been drowned. No place we hadn't been before." I was getting into my element, moving my body to the beats and looking in different directions to appease the eyes that watched me.

"We," I could heard more and more people singing along, now that they too were getting into the song and out of the shock that it really was Tokio Hotel standing in front of them, that it really was Bill Kaulitz's voice singing to them. "Learned to live and then," I grabbed the mic stand in my left hand, knees slightly bend, still dancing to the beat as I sang the words with so many other voices. "Our freedom came to an end. We have to break down," I pulled my torso slightly towards the ground as I sang the last words and released myself to stand upright as I finished the phrase, "this wall."

I changed it up by looking to my left with a mischievous raised eyebrow. My eyes scanned the audience as I moved my head to the right in one slow glaze. Or at least that's what would have happened.

"To young to live a lie," I was able to sing before my line of vision had reached the very center front of the audience.

I don't know what it was that made me struggle not to gasp. It wasn't one specific thing I noticed, but a gut-wrenching feeling that was suddenly fighting viciously to break through my skin. I felt the heat of it's desire race up into my throat. I was transfixed. All I was capable of doing in that split second between the pre-chorus and chorus was look deeper than a thousand oceans into the eyes that captured me. It threw me off. My breath caught short.

Something inside me lurched forward, gnawing to get out. A piece of me, tearing away to join another piece I never knew I was missing. It frightened me. I didn't know what was happening. This all happened in a split second, like a brief stab to my mental composure.

The fact that she wasn't moving at all, except to keep herself upright in the mass wave of pushing was enough to make me even more nervous than I already was. I don't even know why. It was like an instinct that I shouldn't, couldn't, look away. Her eyes were a deep black, glinting in the lights that flashed around me. From what I could tell as I was locked in her gaze, she wasn't blinking. It was like a three second staring contest that I couldn't win, because the crowd was calling to me, pulling me away from her mesmerizing eyes. Her heavy eyeliner accented the deep richness of them. I only had a glance at her face, but I was dumbstruck. She was, undoubtedly, the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. The almond shape of her eyes and prominent cheekbones hinted at an oriental ethnic background, but it wasn't quite overpowering. Her nose was too pointed to be asian, and her chin too small and delicate. I was amazed I could remember that much about her in the next few seconds after my line of sight was ripped away to attend to the show. How I wished I could have gazed with her longer, but I couldn't let the others down and ruin a show just to look in her eyes. It took almost everything I had.

"Ready, set, go, it's time to run!" I recovered, my voice not as sure as it had been just seconds before, but I was already sliding easily back into the beat. I could feel Tom behind me. I could feel his confusion at the break in focus he must have felt in me. "The sky is changing, we are one!" I was trying to be more enthusiastic than necessary with my singing to reassure the guys. I'd skipped a whole line while looking at the girl. "Together we can make it while the world…is…crashing…down," I swung my arms back and forth, exaggerating the motions with the words. "Don't you turn around!" It took quite a bit of effort not to look back down at where I knew she was looking up at me silently during the short instrumental break between the chorus and verse. "We…are looking back again. Our loneliness and pain. Never been so wide awake." Within moments, I had almost completely forgotten about the mysterious girl in the front row, with the piercing eyes.

The rest of the show went as smoothly as any other we'd played this tour; perfect. Inside I felt bad for being the first of the four to screw up, but I was trying not to think about it. It was too unnatural. Something about it scared me, deep in the pit of my stomach. I'd never felt something as strongly as that. I didn't even know what to call it. It was like my soul was tapping into hers through her eyes. I shook off the feeling for the third time as we rushed around backstage getting changed.

Our manager, David, was standing in the closed doorway. We ignored him in our rush to change and wipe off the sweat. This was so routine that it was perfectly normal for David to be watching and instructing us as we hurried. I ripped my sticky shirt over my head with no difficulty, though it was so tight on my small figure.

"You guys have got four people too meet tonight and then you're free to hit whatever clubs you want to while we're still in town," he informed us, motioning for Gustav to wear a hat because his hair was sticking to his head so much. Nodding, Gustav complied. Tom and Georg were just finishing and sat on the couch. Gustav joined them as David kept talking.

"You guys were good tonight," he stopped. I looked up as I slipped on clean jeans. David was giving me a hard look, a look that said I-Plan-On-Talking-To-You-Later-About-Tonight-Because-I-Know-Something-Is-Up. I gulped and looked away, fixing my belt. The last thing I needed was to have people ask me to explain why I messed up so badly tonight. All it would do is get me to start thinking about…that…again and it would only make me more distracted. I wouldn't admit out loud that I was scared of the intensity of what I'd felt on stage. In fact, I wasn't scared, I was just surprised. Yeah, it'd just caught me off guard. I nodded vaguely as I tried to convince myself.

David took that nod as a yes and turned to back to the others. I quickly ran into the bathroom and touched up my hair in ten seconds. Just a little hairspray to keep it in place until I had more time to redo it. Again, I swiped a smudge of eyeliner from the corner of my eye and I went to join Tom, Georg, and Gustav on the couch.

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You should all be happy to know that I've already started on the next chapter and I should have it up soon IF I CAN...no guarantees here... Thanks to everyone who reviewed ) I'm always open to new ideas if you have any, but whether I use them or not is my choice :P R&R plz!