Till rolled over onto his back and groaned. He had a bad habit of falling to sleep in an awkward position, then waking to find his back stiff and soar. He slowly sat up until he was at his full sitting height. Then kept going, stretching out his arms until his fingers met his toes. Then he stood up.
He looked at the clock. 1:44. He'd only been asleep about an hour and a half. He got up and made use of the hotel's bathroom. Then went into the living room. There, the window was open. There was a fantastic view of the island, and straight down you could see the pool. Till didn't go to the window.
There was also a 60 inch plasma screen hanging from the wall in front of the two sofas. He heard that they got allmost all American channels, and som others. There was an entire rack of DVDs and video games to go with the player and PS2. Till didn't turn on the TV.
Instead, he walked out. Till wasn't much of an osberver or TV watcher. He didn't like to see the world going by. He wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to manipulate it and work with it. And possibly burn and mame it. More hands on than watching TV. Maybe he could find Oliver or Richard again.
He opened his door, didn't worry about locking it, and went to the elevator. There, he pressed the down button and waited for the elevator to arrive. He looked over his shoulder. Of course there was no one there. He was just wondering if any of his band mates were still on the floor. Flake and Oliver had gone hiking. Ollie had said something about a waterfall. Richard had gone to talk with Paul and Christoph, where he was now headed. The door opened and he looked inside. There was no one inside. Till stepped in and pushed the L button.
The ride to the ground floor didn't last as long as he thought. When the door opened again, he stepped out. He was on another floor similar to the one he had just come from, except the room numbers were different. When he heard the door close, he turned around. There was a shiny number 7 above the dual doors. Till grunted to himself. He must have mixed the L and 7 button up. "Must still me asleep," he yawned, scratching his neck. Till pressed the down button again and waited for the elevator to return.
Not long after that, Till sensed another person next to him. He looked to his left and saw no one. But when he looked down he saw a girl, looking expectantly at the elevator doors as if she had no idea the large man was next to her. She was very short and had pigtails. She looked to be about 7 or 8. She had on a yellow dress with a long skirt and wore a backpack.
When he joined her in wating for the door, he thought he saw her watching him from the corner of his eye. But when he look again at her, she was still looking at the doors. And when he looked foward he knew she was staring at him again. Till tried to use the elevator doors themselves as mirrors to see her. They were reflective enough to vaguely detect her small form, but too bronze to see where she was looking. He didn't worry. Though he didn't like people staring at him, Till often didn't realy mind when children did it. He often got that response. But it was when the doors opened with a happy, "Ding!", that his brow began to sweat.
"Thill Lindemann..." said the girl.
His name froze him in mid step as he was about to enter the waiting elevator. It was bound to happen, he thought. It always does. Till sighed and turned slowly around on his heel. The girl was smiling up at him. "You're Thill Lindemann," she said again.
"Yeah, so? What do you want- huh?"
The girl smiled up at the big man with her two front teeth missing. That explained her lisp. Then she reached around into her backpack. Camera, Till thought.
"What do you want? Pictures? A million dollors? A pony? Or how 'bout a yacht- Those or popular."
"No," the little girl said, still rummaging around in her back pack.
"Oh! A high roller. Let me guess- You want a date with Richard? All the girls want him. Or you want to get on stage with me? To sing you freaking happy birthday!?"
The girl held something out to Till and said, "A athograph."
"I remember that clown who thought he could get me to sing for him. That- What?"
Till saw that the pig-taile girl held out a sharpy marker and the Sehnsucht album. "Justh a authograph, pleasth," she said.
Till looked down at the girl in astonishment. She could cripple him financialy if she wanted to. And here, she was only asking for an autograph. In a sort of haze, he reached out and took the 2 items. Till Lindemann, he wrote on Christoph's face. Then he handed them back.
"Thank you," she said. "I really like you're musthic."
"O- oh?" Till said.
"Yuh! I like Engel and Du hasth. Goth weisth Ish will kind... Uh. Sometimes I can't remember all the words."
"Oh. Well, sometimes I can't either."
"Are you on vacation?" she asked innocently.
"Well..." Till looked around the deserted hallway. "I was... Me and the others were jsut trying to take a break... without too many people knowing."
"Oh." The girl looked a little forlorn. Then she said, "Then I'll leave you alone. You can thake the elevator anth I'll usthe the sthairs."
Till just watched as she walked, step by tiny step, towards the stairwell. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her.
The way she held the Sehnsucht album to her chest made her seem so much smaller than she really was. And as she walked, her pig-tails bounced in step. And Till liked the way her lisp sounded. She was so small. So innocent. She was just...
Wait for it...
Wait for it...
...The cutest freaking thing Till had ever seen! He felt like such a dick for treating her the way he had- and then making her use the stairs? Wha?
"Hey wait!" he called.
Oliver floted just on the surface of the foamy water and goraned to himself. After the keyboardist had left, Oliver had fully dirobed like he used to as a child. He had waited until he was gone because he knew his bandmate would have something to say. Flake had no idea what it was like to float like you were nothing.He acted like he was so smart. Well... he was the smartest of the 6 of them- but he didn't have to flaunt it like he... Okay. So he doesn't flaunt it. But does he have to always correct someone when they get something wrong? Couldn't he just keep it to hime-
"Tee, hee!"
Oliver jolted in the water when he heard the giggle. Instinctivly, he had risen to a sitting position, both to look around and to hide his olliver. But in doing so, he was pushed under the water by his own weight. For a second all was blurred and hushed. What in his ears and eyes. Then when he floated back to the surfice, whiping his eyes, he allowed only enough of his head up to see what he had most feared.
People.
Two girls were standing on the rocky edge of the pond poking through his belongings. They were dressed to hike, wearing denim shorts and blouses. Their long hair was was back in a pony tails and on their backs were their bags, almost as full as Flake's.
Oliver didn't worry about losing anything important. All that was up there was his pants, underwear, shirt, shoes and a single sock. The other one was probably bobbing at the bottom of the pond. He watched as they looked around for the owner of the clothes. One scanned the pond surfice and surroundings, not seeing his head. They may have though it was just another rock. I should grow some hair, Oliver thought.
The two girls picked up his clothes and belongings and began to walk away. Oliver tried to shout to them but only ended up swallowing a mouthfull of water. After coughing it up, he brought his head out of the foamy surfice of the pond and croaked, "Hey!"
The two girls heard him just as they were entering the forest the way they had come. They looked around again but still didn't see him on the surfice. Yeah, he thought. I really outta' grow some hair. He stuck a hand up as high as he could and waved. They laughed and waved back.
"Put those back!" he shouted a little too harshly.
On of them held up his boxer shorts with the tip of her fingers and giggled. "These?" she called.
"All of it!" he yelled back. "Those things belong to me!" Oliver then began to swim back to the rocks, at the same time trying not to let his lower quarters be seen by the two strange women.
The girls giggled to eachother and the one with the boxers said, "Come and get them."
"I, uh... I can't..."
The laughed again and said, "Seeya!" Then dissappeared once again into the forest.
"Oh, crap- Wait!" the man cried. "Come back! I need those! Please- bring them back!" His please were ignored. And even after ten minutes of calling out to the strangers who had just stolen his clothes, he finally gave up realising he had been defeated. He looked down into the water and thought he could see his single sock on the buttom of the pond. Oliver sighed and felt the cold wtaer begin to chill his bones. He felt nakeder already.
"Oh. My. God." Christoph breathed.
The sword fish took up to full length of the table, plus a few inches off each end. What must have been bueatiful in life was now georgous in death. The enormous fish was the single best looking item of food the guitarist and drummer had ever seen. And even though they had just engourged themselves with cakes, steaks, and fruits, they felt their proffesional stomachs ready to fill again with the gigantic fish.
"Wait!" Christoph said to Paul. "Here she comes again. Lets get some refills first- I don't wanna' end up choking again like I did that one time at Disney World."
"Oh!" Paul laughed. "I remember that! Ha ha ha!"
"That's not funny," the drummer said.
"Yes it is. You almost died- You turned blue!"
"Don't remind m- is that Richard?"
Paul turned around to see that Richard was indeed in tow with their waitress. "You boys need anything?" she asked sweetly.
"More drinks!" they said simoultaneously. She smiled again and left to get their refills.
Richard waited until she was gone again to speak. "Okay, guys," he said. "Listen up. This place isn't like the others we've been to- they have different ways of dealing than trouble makers than just slapping your wrists."
Paul began to say something but Richard cut him off. "Even if you're stinking rich."
"Oh," Christoph said, chewing some ice, "I think we can handle it."
"It's not our fault," Paul whined. "Trouble just sort of... follows us around. It's like we're cursed."
"Yeah. And If the curse were a person," Christoph explained, "It'd be a little girl. She'd have red cheeks, red pig tails, no front teeth..." Chritsoph stared into the middle distance for a moment before adding, "and a lisp."
Paul held his hand out in Christoph's direction and nodded in agreement. "Mmm, hmm."
Richard looked from one man to the other in confusion. "Where the hell'd-"
"Yeah," Paul cut him off. He looked at the drummer in confusion and said. "Where'd that come from?"
Christoph cleaned his fork off with a cloth napkin for a moment. When he was sure it was clean and shiny he pointed with it accross the room. "There," he said.
The two others followed the mans fork to see something that was rather strange. Neither of them would have ever seen this coming. If they would have placed money against it ever happeneing, they would all be poor, poor, poor.
"What... the... hell...?" They said in unison.
"That has trouble written all over it."
Till walked into the large resturaunt with the little girl on his shoulders and imediatly captured the attention of half of the diners. He had a hold of the girl's ankles and she has grasping fists of his hair but he didn't mind in the least. They were both grinning like idiots and singing the song Engel. And as one would expect, the two attracted quite a lot of attention.
Till marched through the resturaunt only stopping to correct the girl while he singed with her. "Even though it's spelled 'Gott', it's pronounced 'Got-eh'. Understand?"
"Yep!" she chirped. "Goth-eh!" Till chose not to point out the girl's lisp. It was just too cute!
Till stopped in the middle of the now still resturant. He turned in a sircle and said, "Now, which ones are your parents?" Then stopped and looked up at the girl.
She was scanning the room from her perch on the large mans shoulders. She slowly turned her head back and forth until pointing foward and saying, "There!" Then she cheered, "Hi momy!"
"Allisa!?" The response was a high pitched scream of terror.
Till's grin vanished.
Oh crap...
ana: (Clears throught and ruffles some papers careful not to look at Till)
Richard: (Looks at Till funny)
Paul: (Looks at Till funny)
Christoph: (Has his fingers laced in an arch in front of his mouth. And guess what. He's also looking at Tilly suspiciously)
Till: (Crosses his arms) Shut up!
a: (Whispers into the mic in my collar) Sorry about the delay folks. I just got a little lazy there for...Looks at watch a few weeks there. The problem was that I though this chapter should go farther. But I've decided to end it here.
T: (Suddenly standing above me) Cameras and mics... Hand them over. (He reaches for me)
a: ...Aaaaaaaaaaahh-! (Static)