A/N: Hey ya'll sorry for the wait but here is chappie number 6!! :D and ohmeingott, did you SEE THE WORLD BEHIND MY WALL MUSIC VIDEO?!?!? like total loooooooove :) hahaha well the reason this chappie took so long was because I am such a procrastinator and it has been sitting in my spiral notebook WRITTEN, and have been too lazy to actually sit down and type it up. SO SORRY! :D oh and i hope every one had a safe and happy holiday :)
soooo, i think this is hands down best chappie in this story, and I think it is top 5 best things I have ever wrote, so ENJOY :D:D:D:D:D
disclaimer; no tengo los chicos de tokio hotel. Feliz? [I don't have the boys of tokio hotel. happy?] haha finally actually usin my spanish :D
Blinded by flashes, Gustav grabbed my hand and started to scream a string of profanities in German at the photographers. No madder how loud he yelled, though, they didn't stop pushing those pesky little buttons. Gustav pushed with all his might to move the paparazzi out of the closet, but it wasn't until both of us started to push that the left and we locked the door.
"What was that?" I asked in amazement and anger that yet again our kissing had been interrupted.
"That was the only reason I hate our music; the press." He answered, then continued, "We can't do anything, movies, shopping, anything, without being bombarded by them."
"Really? That's awful!" I said honestly at a loss for words. I had no idea fame was that annoying.
"Come on. We've been gone a while and I bet everyone's wondering where we went." Gustav changed the subject, with sadness in his voice. But as he reached for the doorknob, something came over me.
"Wait," I ordered slowly, and he turned around, "I wasn't finished yet." I told him shyly, and instead of leaving the compact closet, we stayed there fore another half hour.
A/N: use ya'lls imagination for what happened ;) don't get too creative though, i aint no hoe :)
"Where were you two???!?!" Bill shouted angrily as Gustav and I finally managed to find our way back to the dressing room, "We go on in ten!!! Hurry the hell up!!!!!"
"Someone's leather pants are on too tight…" Gustav joked, earning a light punch from Bill and laughs from everyone else. I had to admit, it was amusing to see the guys I had been dreaming about for over seven years interact with each other.
Georg and Amanda were seated on the Love Seat, with Georg's arm around Amanda, and each of them having an ear bud from Amanda's iPod in. Tom and Wendi, now apparently finished with their alone time, sat on the couch, with Wendi nearly on top of Tom. And then poor solo Bill sat in front of the vanity fixing his eyeliner.
"Sorry to keep Gustav…" I apologized awkwardly.
"Don't be sorry. I'm sure he enjoyed whatever you two were doing…" Tom replied suggestively.
With sadness, the boys left their seats with their girls and went to finish getting read for their first Georgia concert. Us girls simply sat on the couch laughing at how feminine the guys acted before concerts; they were all fighting over the below-averaged size mirror trying to fix their hair, and changing their clothes for reasons unknown. For whatever reason, it made us laugh.
"So what did you and Gustav do?" Wendi asked bluntly as we made out way to the front of the mosh pit. John, the guys' body guard that had taken an odd liking to us, lead the way through the screaming teens.
Reluctantly, I told both her and Amanda the entire story. They 'oohed' and 'aahed' at the appropriate times, and even congratulated me on my confidence. I somehow managed to make it through explaining the paparazzi encounter without showing my new-found hatred of them.
"I'm so glad no one walked in on me and Tom. All I need is my bare ass on the cover of some lame teen magazine and thousands of girls hating me out of jealously." Wendi said gratefully. That got me thinking.
Would I be on the cover of gossip magazines tomorrow? Would "German Rock Star found in closet with unknown blondie!" grace covers, along with the images those pesky, moral-less, pigs took? I suddenly felt sick to my stomach wondering if you could see my face in the photos or if Gustav had blocked me.
Despite my worries, the concert was fabulous. Of course, the guys opened with Scream, finished with Monsoon, and sang Sacred, Ready Set Go, Love Is Dead, Don't Jump, By Your Side, 1000 Oceans, Rescue Me, and Black in between. But being themselves they couldn't ignore the hundreds of girls yelling "ENCORE!" or "WE WAN TOKIO HOTEL!" after Monsoon, so they came out again and sang Durch Den Monsun and Raise Your Hands to truly finish it off. Gustav's drumming was of course flawless, as was everyone else, but Gustav just looked magical when he played. Who knows, maybe I'm biased ;)
"Finally, the best part; THE AFTER PARTY!!!!" Tom shouted on our way back to the dressing room. The halls were too narrow for us to all walk together, so we broke up in pairs, no explanation of who was with who necessary!
"You guys actually have those?" Amanda asked. We all had figured those were just things people talked about, but never actually had or went to, like Valentine's Day parties.
"Only sometimes, but Jost set this one up for so we have to go, plus it's an open bar!!!! WHOO HOO!!!" Tom yelled again, man, he sure did love after parties.
"None of us are old enough to drink…" I countered, referring to all of us, until Georg and Gustav shot me a look to remind me, "Except the hobbit and Gusti I mean."
"I take offence to that!" Georg groaned, but no one except Amanda really listened. There eyes were so transfixed on each other that they ran into three walls just on the walk back to the dressing room.
"Yeah well, we party like we're in Germany, where there isn't a drinking age!!!" Bill was the twin to shout this time. I laughed at how true that statement was, and at how happy the guys were they got to have an after party. They were like little kids on Christmas Eve. Without the annoying "Mommy, can I please open another present tonight?" of course.
Needing to change out of their sweaty concert clothes and into something more appropriate for an after party, the band left for the dressing room and told us they would meet us at the party. Although I felt awkward doing this, I agreed.
Without even asking our names or how we got backstage, the bouncer let us by. The party wasn't large, but it also wasn't small. It was centered around the open bar, and it was horribly apparent that is wasn't no smoking; clouds of secondhand smoke were everywhere. The girls were dressing in dresses –if they even qualified as that, shirts would be a more accurate term- and most of them were waiting for the guys of Tokio Hotel to flirt with. They were in for a big surprise when the guys would ignore them to talk to Wendi, Amanda, and me.
A random guy, who I think was already drunk, came up to me on the couch while Wendi and Amanda were in the bathroom. "Hey, aren't you the little slut that was macking with the ugly drummer before the show?" He slurred.
"Ummmm…." I said awkwardly, annoyed that I was being referred to as a slut. "I didn't hear about that, but I doubt it's true because I was in the band's dressing room all night for the press and he didn't leave." I bluffed coolly.
"Well according to about thirty photographers and their cameras, he was lip-locked with a blonde girl that looked quite like you for nearly an hour in the janitor's closet." The drunk spoke again forcing me to see the reality of tonight.
All my worries were going to be true. I was going to be called a slut, a whore, and probably a million other things by the press, fans- the kind I used to be!, and who knows what else. My reputation in the industry will be forever tarnished; if the press figured out my identity.
"Sorry I think I see my friend." I lied again, and pushed pasted him to the bar. "What's the strongest thing you've got?"
The bartender answered me, and I ordered whatever the hell it was. I wanted to forget the paparazzi, and everything that happened today; all I wanted to remember was Gustav, and the short time we had spent together.
My drink arrived and I chugged it like an alcoholic that had been sober for five years. I ordered another. And another. Until Gustav finally walked in.
"What are you doing?!?!?" He yelled heatedly.
"Forgetting…" I mumbled, already feeling the effects of my drinks.
"Forgetting what? What happened? Cassadi talk to me!!" He said slowly, but quieter, as to not draw any attention to us. He seemed truly and sincerely worried about me.
"Didn't you hear? You were hooking up with some blonde skank in the janitor's closet before the show. It's gonna be all over the news tomorrow." I shot back, not angry at Gustav, just angry in general.
"Who said that." Gustav growled, now furious.
"That guy over there." I pointed in no particular direction. "He said everyone was talking about it." Hearing myself, I realized my words were so slurred they were barely discernible from each other.
"Please tell me you didn't drink three head bangs…!" He finally took notice of the three empty 61% alcoholic drinks I had. (A/N: NOT a real drink. fabricated for dramatic effect :D continue on...)"That is the absolute worst and strongest drink ever! And coming from a German that means something!!"
"I had what I wanted." I grumbled like a five year old that had eaten a cookie before dinner. The room started to spin, and the music got one-hundred times louder. Maybe this wasn't the best idea…
********
GUSTAV'S POV
I cannot believe some random douschebag told Cassadi I was making out with a slut. One; she was the "slut" I was making out with, and two; SHE ISN'T A SLUT.
Cassadi was wasted; there was no doubt about it. No one, not even Tom, could drink three head bangs without getting hammered, and Tom has done some heavy drinking in his time.
I didn't particularly enjoy it when people were drunk, but being on tour I have gotten accustomed to it. Still though, Cassi was only eighteen and she did not need that much alcohol in her system.
"What happened?" Wendi asked as she walked towards me. She was probably mainly concerned because I was the only thing holding her friend upright.
"She had three head-bangs." I said as though there was no other explanation needed.
"Three?!?! HOLY SHIT! I thought she was a light-weight…" Wendi yelled, shocked that her best friend was still breathing let alone standing. Cassadi was mumbling things to herself that sounded like they belonged in Alice and Wonderland, so I asked Wendi to help me get her to the couch so we could get some bread and water in her.
Two peanut-butter sandwiches and six bottles of water later, Cassadi was still tipsy, but no where near as drunk as she was before.
"Thanks, Gustav. I feel better now." She mumbled, her head resting on my chest.
"No problem. You won't feel good in the morning though…" I joked, then realized I needed to be serious, "Cassadi, promise me you'll never do anything like that again. You scared me shitless."
"Why do you even care." She asked in disgust, a little louder than was needed too. "Tomorrow you will just go back to being a Rockstar, and I'll just be a small town girl that got to hang out with you for one night."
"Cassi, you know that's not true. I like you. I really like you." I told her in complete honesty. Well, not complete honesty. Complete honesty would be me telling her I was head over heels in love with her, that I didn't want her to not be in my life, that I needed her. But, that was a little too much for a drunken conversation. Plus, I couldn't believe she actually thought I didn't care about her. How on earth could she think that?
"Prove it." She challenged, but I couldn't. I couldn't kiss her, not here. Not in front of all these people, not when she was still somewhat drunk, I just couldn't. "Exactly." She sighed in disappointment and anger. Then, she slowly pushed herself off my chest and off the couch, and walked away without another word.
I called after her, I chased after her, hell I did about everything except hire a skywriter to write I'm Sorry in the clouds, but she wouldn't speak a word to me.
I faintly heard my name behind me, and although I was busy trying to catch Cassadi, I turned around. "Hi, I'm Kerry, from People Magazine. Now, who is this girl?" He asked me, pointing his bony, pale, finger at Cassadi in an 8x10 photo of one of our more passionate kisses.
I couldn't believe how quickly those pesky little vultures printed out copies and got the word out. Normally, I would calmly say no comment and just walk away, but I felt that something needed to be said. "That girl has a name; a beautiful, unique name in fact. However, you don't actually care about her name or even me. All you care about is getting the latest gossip, which for me and the rest of Tokio Hotel doesn't exist. We don't believe in gossip or tabloids, all we believe in is playing our music. That's all you and the rest of the world need to know!" I shouted, feeling accomplished; the guys and I have hated the press since our first album, but they would never just leave us the hell alone.
I searched every inch of the venue; closets, the bar, every place I could think of and yet I couldn't find the one thing I was looking for.
Deciding to take one last look before giving up and going back to the hotel, I walked over to where I saw Bill faux hawk, thinking maybe he'd seen Cassadi. Then, when I noticed his lips were a little busy with some blond, I walked away.
"Mmmmm, Bill!" I heard a familiar, and beautiful, voice moan. I turned around to see exactly what I feared, and it was like someone had stabbed a dagger right through my heart.
I knew Cassadi was too good for me, too good to be true. I knew she could do a million times better than a lowly German drummer like me. I just didn't think better would mean one of my closest friends and band mates.
"Cassadi." I whispered to myself, my voice cracking. I ran out the door. Normally I am not athletic, but I ran like a damn Olympic Gold medalist. I ran to the empty streets. I ran to the empty stores. I ran to stop the pain, but nothing changed.
CASSADI'S POV
Ugh. I hated being drunk. Why I continued to get drunk was a mystery to me, though.
Gustav couldn't prove to me that he cared about me. He couldn't even tell me that he wanted to see me again after tonight; he just sat there like a vegetable. So I did what I do best, I walked away.
After order two beers and another head-bang, though, I really couldn't care less. The alcohol went down my dry throat with ease, and it felt amazing. I hadn't drank this much since graduation night, and boy did it feel fabulous. I used to drink all the time; Wendi's sister turned twenty-one when we turned sixteen, so she always bought us a little something when we needed it. And we needed it a lot.
"Cassi, Gustav looks like a lost puppy trying to find his way back home. Go talk to him." Bill told me indifferently.
"What do I care?" I grumbled. And instead of arguing with me and asking me what my problem was like Bill normally would, he just stood there like he was made of wax or something. He ordered a head-bang; again, unusual for Bill. But, instead of asking him what happened with him, I just downed whatever was in front of me.
(Somehow, we ended up kissing. I don't even know how it happened, it just did. Throughout the entire make-out session I just kept thinking No, this is wrong. This is Bill, sweet, insane, hyperactive Bill. Not Gustav. But I didn't stop. I couldn't control what I was doing; it was like I was aware of everything I was doing and everything around me, but the alcohol was controlling me. I was just a bystander.
Everything about the kiss was wrong. Bill's lips tasted like vodka, not Skittles like Gustav's. Bill's lips were cold and rough, not warm and smooth like Gustav. Bill's tongue was aggressive and pushy, not sweet and gentle like Gustav's. His lips didn't fit with mine; it was like trying to fit a square into a circle. Wrong.)
Eventually, I managed to come to my senses. Just soon enough to see the back of Gustav's head running out the door.
Fuck, what did I do?
A/N: sorry if that had like a trillion grammar/spelling errors but I just copied it from my notebook and most of the time I SUCK at grammar/punctuation and all that jazz. plus it's nearly 2AM here in the grand old South so I am a tad bit drowsy *YAWNS*.oh btw the writing in (......) that isn't bolded is honestly in my opinion some of the best stuff i've ever written (which probably means it sucks, considering whenever I think something is good it turns out to be utterly awful) so yeah just thought i'd share that wiff you :)
about updates; HAI MY NAME IS CASSADI AND I AM A SLOW UPDATER *everyone says HI CASSADI.* I do apologize for that though, like a million times. it's just i am focused WAY too much on this other story that i'm going to publish once it is completely done (I think that might be easier to do so ya'll dont have to wait as long for updates cause everything will already be written :D) and when i get focused I am FOCUSED. like not even Bill Kaulitz himself could get my attention. yeah, THAT focused. lmao. xD
anyway, ooooohhhhhh Cassadi was a bad gurl mhmmmmmm 0.o lmao, review!!!!!! xoxo, cassi :D