Title: caught red-handed (fifth chapter)
Fandom: tokio hotel
Torque: tom / bill
Prompt: 006. Hours
Rating: PG-13
Gustav and Georg were basically two people who were doing their own business. The first because it was pursuing the philosophy of "live and let live" and, especially since he did not like to stay in the spotlight too long, even inferred that the others did too nice to be on everyone's lips, especially when the news that turned into his own account had not exactly taken from reliable sources: in short, the gossip was not at all his daily bread. The other, on the contrary, had shown more than once accustomed to having to deal with gossip from the entertainment world, and he had to admit that you are interested in easily, but in his case it was lucky that he turned his back: he had the constancy or the excessive desire to follow the news on the love-story, so he found himself constantly late with the updates, and an accomplice really bad timing, in the end she always managed to make lean figure, pulling in conversations in which sported a long string of gaffes straparlando of facts already completed for weeks, and his decision to leave the world of evil speech was more than anything else, an action to maintain a minimum self-respect.
Despite the general disinterest, Gustav could not help but throw George out of bed as soon as he found himself in front of the nose on the cover of the newspaper depicting the Kaulitz twins in very compromising poses that saw them involved in the photo where the distance Recommended minimum security to stay in a fraternal relationship was purely platonic beautifully ignored.
Half dazed and still painful, the bass player had every intention to punish severely, both physically and mentally, no matter who had woken up that way, but all I could do was stand still, gasping, to see themselves ahead, kept swinging in the newspaper carefully one end to the drummer, Bill and Tom intertwined with such fervor that seemed imprimerglisi image in the mind focused and had the impression that it would take months and months of psychotherapy sessions to avoid nightmares.
Okay, rumors put about on account of the twins were on the agenda, and it was common agreement ignore them, but them coming printed on the front page was a whole different kettle of fish: the gossip magazines talk constantly of "twincest "left and right, but no one had ever dared to add items to photoshop some stupid little job done by some fans out of their minds for fear of being accused of defamation and having to close the cabin. So really happened was something concrete? The night before Gustav and Georg had helped them to cover the output Sankt Pauli, holding the game to meet the concerns of David, but now began to regret having done so, what had exalted those two combined?
"It's a montage, no? "Georg mumbled, not hiding a shiver down my spine. 'It is also good, dare I add. "
" I heard David yell in the hallways. "Gustav said with diplomacy, masterful dribbling demand. "I do not think what they wanted. "
" Ask yourself why. "Murmured the bassist, snatched the paper and throwing it on the bed. "The hotel room the Kaulitz? "
" 483. "
'joke, right? "
" I do not think so. "
" Oh, hell. "Georg finally blurted out, standing up with every intention of going to demand an explanation, regardless of the fact that it is still in shirt and pants.
was already halfway down the corridor when Gustav, keys in his pocket and closed the door and followed him quietly, holding a resigned sigh.
Two things could very well make him rise in the bile to the ears. The first was Tom Kaulitz in the throes of a nervous breakdown, and the second was Tom Kaulitz in the throes of a nervous breakdown that slams the door in his face.
"Tom, do not let me use the duct to penetrate the air conditioning in the room. "Georg replied impatiently after he found the room number in bronze a couple of inches from his nose.
"What is it? "Asked the blonde, opening the door just enough enough to check the head of the slot. If the answer was comfortable grip, so comfortable that the bassist was already trying to force the pipe using the keys of their room, stealing properly to Gustav.
"" What "we should ask him. "Said the larger of the two, parandoglisi front. "What the fuck happened last night? "
" A mess. "Muttered simply Tom, decided to break off the conversation there.
"Thank fuck. "George snapped, putting his foot in the door before it is shut in the face again.
"Not now, George. "
" And when? We are here in the band, what combination is also our business. "
" Honestly, not now. We have a press release tomorrow, David wants us dead, Bill is out of action and will decide tomorrow if you do not calm down, and I am having a neurotic attack. "
" Yes, but-"
" Georg. "Interrupted Gustav. "You know that you will not get anything like this, now if Tom is not going to talk about it. "Pulled him back, slide off the foot of the door. "See to tell us something, soon. "He concluded, turning to Tom.
With a grunt, it slammed the door, after murmuring a phrase like read newspapers and watch TV tomorrow.
The next morning, the air was impregnated so as to be almost unbearable tension. They were barely six in the morning when Bill, after a good half an hour spent in turning over in bed, she realized that would not be able to sleep: glancing at his side, made a face to see that Tom was standing sprawled comfortably in the facial expression of those who would not have even woken up to the sound of gunfire.
The press conference is not started until noon, and had the impression that those hours were spent with a slow grueling to say the least. And he was right: he had done and undone the bag at least three times, emptying the cupboards and clear the room of any outfit thrown in bulk on the floor, chairs and even under the bed, bowing back and then placing them with an almost obsessive thoroughness, but a quick look at the clock revealed that there were still ten minutes until it was seven.
In his exasperation, folded close in the bathroom, in a bid to a relaxing shower, but that he had relaxed very little: if, in fact, in order to put in the suitcase had kept the mind busy to catalog clothing second improbable shades of color, now all thoughts seemed to have had the bright idea of ammassarglisi head. Tom said that he would have thought of everything, but, ironically, was exactly what worried him more: Tom and he was stubborn in the same way, the problem was that almost always had totally different ideas, and this meant that compromises were nothing short of utopian discourse. Leave it to Tom, in this case, meant inevitably deny everything and, as he himself was aware that was the most (and probably only) logical solutions, not feel able to do so. The main difference between his brother and he was that about him, rumors of bad there were already in abundance, and its level of tolerance had now crossed the line for quite a while.
only thought was selfish and arrogant, and he was perfectly aware of this, but he was sick of having to do anything because otherwise any shade his attitude could discredit the reputation of the band or record label: do not give a damn what would happen next, he wanted to be in deciding what was right for him, wanted people to understand that he, before a freak to Talk About, was, first, a person. But the biggest problem was that they did not feel strong enough to do it, do not have the courage nor the nerve to flaunt to the world that yes, he was with his brother, who cares what the fuck them? He came out of the shower
thoughtfully, with the impression of having spent an eternity to brood about the latest events and upcoming ones, but when the clock marked seven thirty-five yet, we just lacked that would give the head of everything and it started pulling their hair out in clumps, such was the desperation, and, while studying what to pull out of the bag for the occasion - a-ha, note the sarcasm - he had the impression that the hours that separated him from the long-awaited walk to the gallows would have been far more terrible than it would have been the same gallows.
When Tom was pleased to open our eyes, it was ten or half past: Bill, meanwhile, had plenty of time to dry your hair, fiddling with the plate and lacquer to try to give him a turn at least presentable, look in the mirror and not at all satisfied with the result, driven back into the shower a second time and riasciugarseli, leaving this time, falling straight down below her shoulders. In addition, he had already done the trick and defeated a couple of times more than usual and, despite even that outcome inspired him so much, he opted for a thin layer of eye shadow and two strokes of kohl not too well cared for, had succeeded, in the large span of time, even to take a quick manicure session, let alone when he realized that he was nervous to the point that his hands were shaking so much that I can not even hold the lime just enough to do precise work. In the absence of others, had begun to make up and down the room, tossing occasionally, dirty looks to Tom, in the vain hope that being aware of it and, finally, to wake up.
just woke up, in fact, the blond stood before her brother, all dressed up, makeup and combed properly, committed to do back and forth across the room with a fairly sustained pace: every movement you could read the excitement that every single step seemed to grow more and more with a nearly constant concern.
'Bill? "Tom called him, the voice thick with sleep, scratching his head. "How long are you awake? "
" From six. "Replied the child, too little land to lie in the world just enough to let him keep a semblance of composure.
"You could wake up. "Muttered the other, while the sense of guilt for leaving him standing for hours basking in its stock began to emerge.
"I did not want to disturb. "Bill shrugged, deciding once and for all to stop and stop torturing the floor carpet.
"Tomi. "He continued after a minute of silence. "Get dressed, let's hurry. The voice was tired, almost a whisper, and the tone bordered on the plea. The speech
died there, still asleep Tom to set up an even remotely sensible response that would serve to cheer her brother, Bill, and too impatient to stay in that room a moment longer.
It was noon, but the lights reflected against the lenses of his sunglasses had nothing to do with your time, but on the contrary, the sky of Hamburg was completely covered with clouds, which were not predict anything but rain They were, however, the persistent click of the camera flash from professional to lead all those annoying glare, trying to compensate for the lack of a clear blue sky and sunny in the background to the windows of the room, but resulting in only one in the room only to create an atmosphere even more artificial and aseptic than it already was.
The silence of the tomb of the Kaulitz twins screeched sharply with the voices of journalists: the lack of words was forced and painful, but neither had the courage to say something to another, and indeed, since they'd left the hotel room , not had hardly turned his eyes, if not by mistake. Nor had wanted to talk after crossing the threshold of the room, and David himself, watching from his perch near the guards a few feet behind them, beginning to wonder if the conference would indeed be served to allay water and if he did not, however, helped to mark the end of Tokio Hotel.
the phlegm with which Bill and Tom came to the desk placed in front of the rows of chairs occupied by the paparazzi and sat in front of the microphones was so quiet that they can be easily exchanged for resignation, but, instead, journalists and contributed only muttered heatedly to the confusion that was in the room, fearful of starting with the slew of questions from the outside, you could get the impression no problem of having to attend the last speech of two brutal murders award-criminals before their death penalty.
"I think all know why we are here. "Tom was to break the ice, displaying a calm that not even he knew he had.
"It's not my, our, going to deny what happened last night. "He continued, this time much more to engage SINCE not shake the voice. "As I know very well that the evidence appears to be irrefutable. I know that your eyes everything seems like an act of outrageous, immoral and even deserves to be punished, but I find it almost immoral that you have thought about having the right to embroider on this story, writing a bullshit after another. I understand that this is your job, and I understand that the life of a rock star we chose us, and this is what it involves. The funny part - he took care to tread in the word with emphasis, making it even sarcastic - it is ourselves that we would not remember what happened if we had found the papers in front of the eyes, yesterday morning. It is not an excuse, what I'm about to say, but it's true: we were drunk, end of the matter. So you do not need to publish article spicy enough, and I know that whatever I say, there are people among you who will write what he likes best to sell most of its newspaper. "The buzz
of journalists increased.
"You are blaming alcohol? "Peeped an interviewer. "There seems a little too much what has happened, to clear all that? "
" No, we do not like. "Said Tom piqued. "Everyone in this room gave us a bit 'too much in alcohol-aware. At that moment, the brain does not work at all. "
" How could you were drunk at this point? The bodyguards have allowed such a thing? "
" We're rock stars, not elementary school children. We still have the right to go around by yourself: You do not blame the staff, if not our own. "
" So you're saying that this is an accident? "
" Exactly. "
" And you two, there is no type of relationship that goes beyond brotherly affection? "Finally a journalist ventured particularly reckless.
No. "
" Even if it was, that there would be problem? "With the greatest surprise of all, Bill's voice echoed off the microphone so much so that she can be strong enough to be heard by audience. If Bill had been silent all the time, his eyes staring at scattered from time to time some journalist, without really paying attention to what was happening, almost convinced that in reality not all that was going on really. Every single word that came out from the mouth of Tom had been stabbed, and had said so many, of words, so many that he had stopped counting all the heartache that's causing, so much that, one after the other, the pain had become so strong as to be unsustainable and now muffled.
did not feel anything, or almost pounding heartbeat, or the chatter of journalists getting stronger, or astonished gaze David who scrutinized his face as if he had just revealed to be the reincarnation of the Antichrist or such a heresy. Tom, from under the table, the foot on the ram launched an excessively strong, and that means that she heard him.
Despite the general disinterest, Gustav could not help but throw George out of bed as soon as he found himself in front of the nose on the cover of the newspaper depicting the Kaulitz twins in very compromising poses that saw them involved in the photo where the distance Recommended minimum security to stay in a fraternal relationship was purely platonic beautifully ignored.
Half dazed and still painful, the bass player had every intention to punish severely, both physically and mentally, no matter who had woken up that way, but all I could do was stand still, gasping, to see themselves ahead, kept swinging in the newspaper carefully one end to the drummer, Bill and Tom intertwined with such fervor that seemed imprimerglisi image in the mind focused and had the impression that it would take months and months of psychotherapy sessions to avoid nightmares.
Okay, rumors put about on account of the twins were on the agenda, and it was common agreement ignore them, but them coming printed on the front page was a whole different kettle of fish: the gossip magazines talk constantly of "twincest "left and right, but no one had ever dared to add items to photoshop some stupid little job done by some fans out of their minds for fear of being accused of defamation and having to close the cabin. So really happened was something concrete? The night before Gustav and Georg had helped them to cover the output Sankt Pauli, holding the game to meet the concerns of David, but now began to regret having done so, what had exalted those two combined?
"It's a montage, no? "Georg mumbled, not hiding a shiver down my spine. 'It is also good, dare I add. "
" I heard David yell in the hallways. "Gustav said with diplomacy, masterful dribbling demand. "I do not think what they wanted. "
" Ask yourself why. "Murmured the bassist, snatched the paper and throwing it on the bed. "The hotel room the Kaulitz? "
" 483. "
'joke, right? "
" I do not think so. "
" Oh, hell. "Georg finally blurted out, standing up with every intention of going to demand an explanation, regardless of the fact that it is still in shirt and pants.
was already halfway down the corridor when Gustav, keys in his pocket and closed the door and followed him quietly, holding a resigned sigh.
Two things could very well make him rise in the bile to the ears. The first was Tom Kaulitz in the throes of a nervous breakdown, and the second was Tom Kaulitz in the throes of a nervous breakdown that slams the door in his face.
"Tom, do not let me use the duct to penetrate the air conditioning in the room. "Georg replied impatiently after he found the room number in bronze a couple of inches from his nose.
"What is it? "Asked the blonde, opening the door just enough enough to check the head of the slot. If the answer was comfortable grip, so comfortable that the bassist was already trying to force the pipe using the keys of their room, stealing properly to Gustav.
"" What "we should ask him. "Said the larger of the two, parandoglisi front. "What the fuck happened last night? "
" A mess. "Muttered simply Tom, decided to break off the conversation there.
"Thank fuck. "George snapped, putting his foot in the door before it is shut in the face again.
"Not now, George. "
" And when? We are here in the band, what combination is also our business. "
" Honestly, not now. We have a press release tomorrow, David wants us dead, Bill is out of action and will decide tomorrow if you do not calm down, and I am having a neurotic attack. "
" Yes, but-"
" Georg. "Interrupted Gustav. "You know that you will not get anything like this, now if Tom is not going to talk about it. "Pulled him back, slide off the foot of the door. "See to tell us something, soon. "He concluded, turning to Tom.
With a grunt, it slammed the door, after murmuring a phrase like read newspapers and watch TV tomorrow.
The next morning, the air was impregnated so as to be almost unbearable tension. They were barely six in the morning when Bill, after a good half an hour spent in turning over in bed, she realized that would not be able to sleep: glancing at his side, made a face to see that Tom was standing sprawled comfortably in the facial expression of those who would not have even woken up to the sound of gunfire.
The press conference is not started until noon, and had the impression that those hours were spent with a slow grueling to say the least. And he was right: he had done and undone the bag at least three times, emptying the cupboards and clear the room of any outfit thrown in bulk on the floor, chairs and even under the bed, bowing back and then placing them with an almost obsessive thoroughness, but a quick look at the clock revealed that there were still ten minutes until it was seven.
In his exasperation, folded close in the bathroom, in a bid to a relaxing shower, but that he had relaxed very little: if, in fact, in order to put in the suitcase had kept the mind busy to catalog clothing second improbable shades of color, now all thoughts seemed to have had the bright idea of ammassarglisi head. Tom said that he would have thought of everything, but, ironically, was exactly what worried him more: Tom and he was stubborn in the same way, the problem was that almost always had totally different ideas, and this meant that compromises were nothing short of utopian discourse. Leave it to Tom, in this case, meant inevitably deny everything and, as he himself was aware that was the most (and probably only) logical solutions, not feel able to do so. The main difference between his brother and he was that about him, rumors of bad there were already in abundance, and its level of tolerance had now crossed the line for quite a while.
only thought was selfish and arrogant, and he was perfectly aware of this, but he was sick of having to do anything because otherwise any shade his attitude could discredit the reputation of the band or record label: do not give a damn what would happen next, he wanted to be in deciding what was right for him, wanted people to understand that he, before a freak to Talk About, was, first, a person. But the biggest problem was that they did not feel strong enough to do it, do not have the courage nor the nerve to flaunt to the world that yes, he was with his brother, who cares what the fuck them? He came out of the shower
thoughtfully, with the impression of having spent an eternity to brood about the latest events and upcoming ones, but when the clock marked seven thirty-five yet, we just lacked that would give the head of everything and it started pulling their hair out in clumps, such was the desperation, and, while studying what to pull out of the bag for the occasion - a-ha, note the sarcasm - he had the impression that the hours that separated him from the long-awaited walk to the gallows would have been far more terrible than it would have been the same gallows.
When Tom was pleased to open our eyes, it was ten or half past: Bill, meanwhile, had plenty of time to dry your hair, fiddling with the plate and lacquer to try to give him a turn at least presentable, look in the mirror and not at all satisfied with the result, driven back into the shower a second time and riasciugarseli, leaving this time, falling straight down below her shoulders. In addition, he had already done the trick and defeated a couple of times more than usual and, despite even that outcome inspired him so much, he opted for a thin layer of eye shadow and two strokes of kohl not too well cared for, had succeeded, in the large span of time, even to take a quick manicure session, let alone when he realized that he was nervous to the point that his hands were shaking so much that I can not even hold the lime just enough to do precise work. In the absence of others, had begun to make up and down the room, tossing occasionally, dirty looks to Tom, in the vain hope that being aware of it and, finally, to wake up.
just woke up, in fact, the blond stood before her brother, all dressed up, makeup and combed properly, committed to do back and forth across the room with a fairly sustained pace: every movement you could read the excitement that every single step seemed to grow more and more with a nearly constant concern.
'Bill? "Tom called him, the voice thick with sleep, scratching his head. "How long are you awake? "
" From six. "Replied the child, too little land to lie in the world just enough to let him keep a semblance of composure.
"You could wake up. "Muttered the other, while the sense of guilt for leaving him standing for hours basking in its stock began to emerge.
"I did not want to disturb. "Bill shrugged, deciding once and for all to stop and stop torturing the floor carpet.
"Tomi. "He continued after a minute of silence. "Get dressed, let's hurry. The voice was tired, almost a whisper, and the tone bordered on the plea. The speech
died there, still asleep Tom to set up an even remotely sensible response that would serve to cheer her brother, Bill, and too impatient to stay in that room a moment longer.
It was noon, but the lights reflected against the lenses of his sunglasses had nothing to do with your time, but on the contrary, the sky of Hamburg was completely covered with clouds, which were not predict anything but rain They were, however, the persistent click of the camera flash from professional to lead all those annoying glare, trying to compensate for the lack of a clear blue sky and sunny in the background to the windows of the room, but resulting in only one in the room only to create an atmosphere even more artificial and aseptic than it already was.
The silence of the tomb of the Kaulitz twins screeched sharply with the voices of journalists: the lack of words was forced and painful, but neither had the courage to say something to another, and indeed, since they'd left the hotel room , not had hardly turned his eyes, if not by mistake. Nor had wanted to talk after crossing the threshold of the room, and David himself, watching from his perch near the guards a few feet behind them, beginning to wonder if the conference would indeed be served to allay water and if he did not, however, helped to mark the end of Tokio Hotel.
the phlegm with which Bill and Tom came to the desk placed in front of the rows of chairs occupied by the paparazzi and sat in front of the microphones was so quiet that they can be easily exchanged for resignation, but, instead, journalists and contributed only muttered heatedly to the confusion that was in the room, fearful of starting with the slew of questions from the outside, you could get the impression no problem of having to attend the last speech of two brutal murders award-criminals before their death penalty.
"I think all know why we are here. "Tom was to break the ice, displaying a calm that not even he knew he had.
"It's not my, our, going to deny what happened last night. "He continued, this time much more to engage SINCE not shake the voice. "As I know very well that the evidence appears to be irrefutable. I know that your eyes everything seems like an act of outrageous, immoral and even deserves to be punished, but I find it almost immoral that you have thought about having the right to embroider on this story, writing a bullshit after another. I understand that this is your job, and I understand that the life of a rock star we chose us, and this is what it involves. The funny part - he took care to tread in the word with emphasis, making it even sarcastic - it is ourselves that we would not remember what happened if we had found the papers in front of the eyes, yesterday morning. It is not an excuse, what I'm about to say, but it's true: we were drunk, end of the matter. So you do not need to publish article spicy enough, and I know that whatever I say, there are people among you who will write what he likes best to sell most of its newspaper. "The buzz
of journalists increased.
"You are blaming alcohol? "Peeped an interviewer. "There seems a little too much what has happened, to clear all that? "
" No, we do not like. "Said Tom piqued. "Everyone in this room gave us a bit 'too much in alcohol-aware. At that moment, the brain does not work at all. "
" How could you were drunk at this point? The bodyguards have allowed such a thing? "
" We're rock stars, not elementary school children. We still have the right to go around by yourself: You do not blame the staff, if not our own. "
" So you're saying that this is an accident? "
" Exactly. "
" And you two, there is no type of relationship that goes beyond brotherly affection? "Finally a journalist ventured particularly reckless.
No. "
" Even if it was, that there would be problem? "With the greatest surprise of all, Bill's voice echoed off the microphone so much so that she can be strong enough to be heard by audience. If Bill had been silent all the time, his eyes staring at scattered from time to time some journalist, without really paying attention to what was happening, almost convinced that in reality not all that was going on really. Every single word that came out from the mouth of Tom had been stabbed, and had said so many, of words, so many that he had stopped counting all the heartache that's causing, so much that, one after the other, the pain had become so strong as to be unsustainable and now muffled.
did not feel anything, or almost pounding heartbeat, or the chatter of journalists getting stronger, or astonished gaze David who scrutinized his face as if he had just revealed to be the reincarnation of the Antichrist or such a heresy. Tom, from under the table, the foot on the ram launched an excessively strong, and that means that she heard him.
0 comments:
Post a Comment