Heartbreak. Incarnate.

[D.C.Valentine]

Twilight had fallen and the antique street lamps lit brief patches upon the damp streets. Most shops had already closed, and the average person was tucking themselves into bed and drifting off to sleep. He stood leaned against a light post, ignoring the soft rain that dampened his hair and soaked his clothes. He pondered lighting a cigarette, but knew that would prove to be a dire waste. His long hair fell to the middle of his shoulder blades, their average style halted by the rain. He found the rain to be quite soothing, and almost wish it would never stop, yet knew it simply must. Tonight he would soak it up and feel its damp ecstasy.

He realized that his true purpose for a twilight stroll in the rain was to escape his life and search for inspiration. He was fighting a writer's block, and he simply had to break it. His life of fame had grown to become too much. He hated the constant attention and the simple fact that he could not go anywhere without being instantly recognized. He cursed Germany's cramped towns under his breath when a thought suddenly struck his mind as to the possibility of curing his incapacity to compose poetry. He pushed himself off of the post and folded his arms. He began to walk down the cobblestone streets in search of a hotel, and found one after walking approximately half a block.

He entered the front office through glass doors and walked to the front desk, his water-logged shoes making an awful squishing sound.

"Sir, you're awfully wet," said the young receptionist, who currently hated her dull shift. He wagered that she hadn't been working here long.

"I'm fully aware of that," he remarked upon halting his walking at the desk. "I need to rent a room for the next few days." He reached into his back pocket and grabbed his leather wallet and pulled out Germany's version of a credit card and handed it to her.

--

Okay, this isn't the end of the first chapter. I wrote this in chemistry earlier today, and decided to see what you guys think. I would like to post more, and I will inevitably. I can't end it there.

Feel free to leave comments and suggestions.

-DCV-

[<3ByYourSide<3]

i love this! :D post more!

[LipsOfAnAngel]

really good, can't wait to see what happens. mehr bitte!

[bbgroove]

LOVE!!!
I&#39;m not sure about suggestions...considering how I&#39;m not sure where you want his to go...
but you should def. continue

[Mr.G.L+Ms.K.S]

please post more...thats better than anything that I could ever write...

[shadowgrl]

WOW...
I'm really not a fan of MOST of the fanfics on here (just being truthful, don't hate me) except for one other (US Girls, Those Girls) and so far this one. Please continue so that we may be blessed with such a work of art on a constant flow of masterpiece.
PLease

[D.C.Valentine]

I'll have the rest of the chapter up this afternoon. Thanks for the intrigue.

-DCV-

[Danilovestokiohotel]

this is really wierd...
i clicked this cuz my messenger sn is heartbreak3incarnate and has been for like 4 years now
... did you do that on purpose? lol

[D.C.Valentine]

I don't believe I have. I'm a huge AFI fan, and Synesthesia is up there on my list of favorites, and for some reason, Heartbreak Incarnate clicked for me. I was also jealous because ChaosCrazy had an AFI titled fan fic, "Love Like Winter."

-DCV-

[D.C.Valentine]

"Welcome Mr. Kaulitz. Is there a specific room you would like to request?" The receptionist knew exactly who Bill Kaulitz was, but due to the distressed air he seemed to bring to the immediate area, she decided against any other proposition besides that which dealt with ensuring his comfort at this particular hotel.

"A vacant one will do," he replied, and was handed a key to room three thirty-seven on the third floor. He took the elevator, knowing that each time he did, he was taking the chance of being trapped inside.

The short journey to the third floor inside the elevator proved to be a fairly successful one, and he soon found himself beyond the door to room three thirty-seven. He tossed the key onto the small table near the air conditioner/heating unit. He flipped the light switch and removed his shoes and socks, leaving them by the closed door. He drew the curtains closed and walked to the nightstand between the two full beds with the sheets turned back just the way he liked them. He always enjoyed his hotel stays, because every hotel seemed to know his standards without knowing him. He lifted the telephone handset and pressed it to his right ear and dialed a familiar number to a home about six blocks from where he stood.

"Hello?" answered a young male voice. He knew the voice anywhere.

"Tom?" he asked, just to be sure. He knew that his family must be worried sick.

"Bill? Where the **** are you?" He felt slightly ashamed for putting his twin brother through such alarm, but he knew it was for the better.

"I rented a hotel room, but that's beside the point. I need a favor, if you would be so kind," Bill said. He assumed the conversation would take longer than expected, and perched on the edge of the bed he did not plan to occupy.

"Anything," Tom replied, his voice soothing to Bill's ears. He gave his brother instructions to bring a black bag complete with three days worth of clothes, a writing pad, and a pen. He said he needed time away from his life in order to write, and assured Tom that nothing was wrong. Tom believed him, and said he would be right over. He didn't need to ask to find out the specific location of his brother. Bill said his goodbye and rested the handset on the cradle. He turned on the heater and shed his wet clothes to his boxers, resting them gently on the heater to dry.

--

Tom hung up the telephone and glanced around, looking to see if the other members of his family listened in on the conversation. He knew that his brother wouldn't want the entire family worried sick, and a lack of knowledge sometimes made for better situations.

Tom walked slowly up a flight of stairs, careful not to raise any alarm. He complied with Bill's wishes quickly, and even threw in an extra pack of cigarettes and his mp3 player, knowing he would find use for it even though he didn't request it. He set the items meticulously into Bill's only black bag and made his exit, not bothering to tell his parents. He knew he would catch ****, but he also knew that his brother meant the world to him.

He placed his colorful New York Yankees hat atop his head and shut the door behind him. He noted the rain with a growl and sloshed along the sidewalk to the hotel Bill was currently staying at. Like his brother, he also found the rain to be quite soothing, but didn't appreciate it at the current point in time due to his need to get to the hotel and quickly.


He stormed through the door and attempted to walk past the receptionist, but was halted immediately.

"Sir, where are you going?" she asked.

"Kaulitz," he said, and took a step further toward the long hallway leading to the elevator.

"He doesn't seem like he'll be interested in seeing anyone," the receptionist said. She was leaned over the counter and looking at the strange man clad in soaked baggy clothes and dreadlocks, his outfit accentuated by his matching Yankees hat.

"He'll see me," Tom said, and wished the lady would let him go.

"I'll need to see what's in that bag," she said and pointed. He raised one eyebrow, daring her to try.

"Over my dead body." He continued down the hall, hearing her final shout, "I'm going to call security!"

"Try and stop me!" he shouted back before stepping onto the elevator. He set the bag down and wrung out his shirt while he waited for the digital number to flash to three. He hoped that Bill's true reason for escaping was simply to fight a writer's block, even though he feared there was something more, something too deep to even let his own twin brother in.

Tom stopped in front of Bill's hotel room and knocked, hoping he would let him in. Bill stood on the other side and told him to leave the bag and go.

"Please, Bill. At least let me see just this once. You're going to cut yourself from our life for three days, let me at least see my brother one more time." Tom could feel his brother hesitate beyond the door, but knew he would comply. Bill turned the lock and cracked the door. Tom saw his bare shoulder and was afraid to look further down, even though Bill had the decency to remain in his boxers at the very least.

"Is this enough?" Bill asked, knowing the answer to the question before Tom had a chance to shake his head.

"Bill, you know it isn't." The usually happy-go-lucky dreadlocked male seemed rather somber at the moment, and Bill wondered if he thought this was the last time he would see him. Bill also wondered if the thought was correct. Bill opened the door and permitted entrance, hoping that this wasn't the final time he would lay his eyes upon his other half. Tom entered the room and set the bag on the table near the heater, where he noticed Bill's clothes were doomed to fry.

"You might want to move those. I believe they are dry enough," he suggested, and Bill quickly scopped up the clothes and threw them on the bed. He sat in the wooden chair by the table which held the small black bag. Tom sat nearby on the edge of the bed.

"Do you promise to keep me updated?" Tom asked, still not liking this sudden action Bill had taken.

"I promise to come home in three days," Bill said. Tom nodded solemnly, knowing that he wouldn't be able to change his mind.

"See you in three days, I suppose," Tom said with a sigh, and stood up. He embraced his brother lovingly and left with a final goodbye. Bill watched him walk down the hall and step onto the elevator. It would be the last time he saw his brother for a very long time.


Tom watched the digital numbers and waited for a read one and anticipated the red ding that opened the door. He stepped off and watched his feet move toward a distant destination. He didn't notice the missing receptionist and his senses weren't keen to the situation. So when he was clubbed on the back of the head with something hard and blunt, he was unconscious before he even knew what happened.

******

That's the end of chapter one. I don't usually let in on what will happen in future chapters, but due to the risk of losing readers as a result of what I did to Tom, I have to let you in on a little secret. Fear naught, my young readers! Tom will be fine. I promise.

-DCV-

[bbgroove]

I LOVE THIS STORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
please update soon (^_^)

[LipsOfAnAngel]

omg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my throat is tight, my stomach in a not. this has never happened to me with a story before. it's really good!!! mehr bitte!

[cherry_kaulitz]

AWSOMENESS MORE PLZ

[D.C.Valentine]

CHAPTER TWO

Bill sat on the bed and stared at the telephone. He couldn't seem to shake the feeling that something happened to his brother. He imagined briefly life without Tom, and knew that the option was impossible. If Tom was killed, he would have to die too.

He picked up the handset and called home, believing he would hear Tom's happy-go-lucky voice. Instead, his distraught mother came on the phone.

"Hello?" she answered. He could tell she had been crying. He couldn't tell if she was upset because Tom was missing, or upset because Tom was dead. He didn't register the idea that both of her boys were missing.

"Mother?" Bill asked, and he could hear her utter a sigh of relief. "Have you been crying?"

"William Kaulitz, where the **** have you been?*" she screamed through the telephone. Bill found himself immediately wishing that he had at least mentioning his abandonment to someone other than Tom. This would ease any worry he may have caused.

"I'm all right, Mom. I left and rented a hotel room for a few nights to ease a writer's block. Didn't Tom tell you?" Bill asked, hoping her response would sound like something along the lines of: "Oh, yeah. He did mention it shortly after returning from seeing you. I'm sorry I forgot," but her reply was, "Tom never came home. I didn't even see him leave."

Bill's heart rose to his throat and his stomach curled and knotted. His suspicions were currently half correct. Tom was missing, and no one knew where he was.

"What do you suppose happened?" she asked when Bill didn't speak.

"I don't know, Mom. God, I hope nothing happened to him," Bill said, fighting the hot tears that threatened to fall.

"When are you coming home?" she asked. Bill could tell she didn't want to think of her son gone forever.

"In a few days, Mom. I promise." Bill knew that he had to finish what he started. He let the thought of his brother's death drift from his mind, and successfully forgot Tom's disappearance.

"Will you call?" she asked, her voice cracking again.

"I'll come home in three days." He told his mom he loved her, and said his goodbye. He turned off the lights and crawled into bed, his mind drifting almost immediately into a nightmare.

--

"HEARTBREAK! INCARNATE!" Bill's eyes flew open in the not so pleasant world of sleep at the shouting that filled his ears. The voice seemed to come from his twin brother, but he couldn't be entirely sure.

"I'm nothing, if not, your memories!" He sat up and looked around, seeing nothing more than the black darkness around him.

Where are you, Tom?

"Heartbreak, please let me be, your joy and your pain!" Bill continued to look frantically around, his heart and mind certain that Tom is screaming at him.

"Please let me haunt as scent on your pillow!" Bill picked up the pillow he had been resting on and pressed it to his face, Tom's scent lingering on it.

What the ****? Bill thought to himself.

"Let me be all the words echoed in comfort! Let me be all the words that you'd unsay!"

--

Bill woke with a start, his body drenched in sweat. He stood up and walked to the front door and peered out the peep hole, seeing nothing. He flipped the lights on and looked around, hoping to see the booger that haunted his dream.

He heard a knocking sound and the rustling of paper. He assumed it came from the bathroom, and went to look, finding nothing. He wiped the sweat from his brow involuntarily as he flipped the light on, and saw nothing. He exited the bathroom and walked back to the front door, noticing a red flyer upon the floor. Someone had slid it under the door somehow. He picked it up and looked over it carefully.

Invite me to your memories....on the corner of fifth and seventh.

He thought for a moment what was in the location the advertising flyer described. When nothing came to mind, he decided that he would be attending.

******

*While I'm not entirely sure Bill Kaulitz is short for William Kaulitz, I made it that way in this story.

There you have it. I'll post chapter three as soon as I write it.


Hope you enjoyed!

-DCV-

[LipsOfAnAngel]

wow. mehr bitte!

[Danilovestokiohotel]

you have me singing synesthesia now lol

[D.C.Valentine]

Chapter Three

Bill managed to make an honest attempt to keep himself occupied until night fell, but his efforts were futile. He still had a writer's block, Tom was still missing, and the news of this underground club lingered in his mind. He was intrigued by the flyer he received last night, and had decided he would go to check it out. He pulled out an outfit from his bag and walked to the bathroom. He tossed the clothes on the floor and turned the faucet, waiting for his desired temperature to come. When it did, he turned on the shower and shed his final article of clothing. He stepped in, feeling the immediate soothing sting of the hot water. He folded his arms and bowed his head, permitting the hot water to run its course along his pale, thin body. He meditated briefly, letting all worry seep from him and into the drain at his feet. After a few minutes, he lifted the small bottle of shampoo and poured a small amount into his hand, which promptly wen to his hair. He lathered as best as he could, knowing that hotel shampoo held a rather poor quality. He washed his body and rinsed his hair and promptly stepped out upon silencing the water. He grabbed a towel and dried himself off, then dressed in the black pinstriped trousers and white button-down shirt*. He left the bathroom and flung the towel and his lonely pair of boxer shorts to the nearest bed and stared at himself in the vanity. His face was slightly red due to the heat of the water and free of any blemishes. His black eyeliner had faded, the remnants washed away. His hair was a dire mess, and he knew at that very moment that he had to fix it. To the unknowing eye, his hair was always a dire mess, but at least it was a managed dire mess. What he saw in the mirror was not. He detached the blow dryer from its cradle on the wall and turned it on. As he dried his hair, he ran his free hand through it in an attempt to style it. When he was done, it seemed to have worked. he dug through his black bag near the front door and found a toothbrush and toothpaste. He smiled when he thought of how wonderful his brother was, and then frowned when he remembered. He brushed his teeth and spit out the contains of his mouth physically, and the reminder mentally. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand between the two beds and discovered with excitement that the time to leave was now. He pocketed his hotel key and left, once again chancing the elevator trip.


The walk to the underground club did not take long. He knew relatively where he was going, and smiled when he saw the brick building that stood out from the other brick buildings simply from its giant sign in purple neon that read, "Synesthesia."

This must be it, Bill thought, and walked to the black doors. Two frail men stood in front of it with their arms folded.

"What do you want with this facility?" the tallest of the two inquired.

"I wish to pass through," Bill replied.

"We don't accept just anyone off the streets to enter," said the other.

"I received a flyer last night," Bill said, hoping that that was his ticket in.

"Then you must be Raven," the tallest said.

"Raven?" Bill asked, confused.

Do they use false names in here? he asked himself.

The two stood aside and opened the door, permitting his entrance. Bill walked through, noting that he was to be called Raven, and he was to answer to it. The building seemed much smaller on the inside than from the outside, and he wagered it was probably a result of the overabundance of people inside who moved to the music Bill found revolting. He shuddered when he thought Tom would love this place, and all of the women inside.

Suddenly, he felt a woman whisper into his ear, "Forget him." He turned and looked at her, knowing he could never forget his own brother.

"I do not believe we have made an acquaintance," he said, not mentioning the brother she seemed to know about.

"I am Liebe, and you will soon be the physical embodiment of heartbreak. I will be the reason you become it. I will get you there." She left a trailing caress along his face as she turned and walked away. He lost her in the crowd almost immediately. Upon his searching for her, he realized how small area was and how many people were crammed inside, their bodies pressed together. An unknown claustrophobia kicked in, and he collapsed.


He woke up, four people leaned over him whispering, "Love your hate. Your faith lost. You are now one of us." He furrowed his brow and asked, "Who are you? Why did you say that? Why am I here?" Instead of answering any of his questions, they say, "Love your hate. Your faith lost. You are now one of us."

"Stop, please. I don't understand why you are reciting this," Bill said, an ounce of fear running down his spine.

"Love your hate. Your faith lost. You are now one of us." Bill questioned them no more, giving in to their eerie recitation.

"Nothing from nowhere, I'm no one at all. Radiate. Recognize one silent call as we all form one dark flame." Realizing that he has given in, both the four of them and Bill in unison shout, "Incinerate!"

********

*I thought Bill would look pretty darn sexy in a white button-down, so i gave him one.

Watcha think? Leave a comment if you dare.

-DCV-

[LipsOfAnAngel]

um... speechless????? what the **** was all of that? and what were they saying?? it's from a song, isn't it? mehr bitte!

[D.C.Valentine]

Yes, indeed it was. "Miseria Cantare - the beginning" by AFI.

I'm going to be super honest in saying I have no idea where this is going.

I usually don't plan things out, so its a surprise to even me at what I produce.

-DCV-

[SammiiXliebe]

omg. D:
That was amazing. You are
a terrific writer.
Tom...hit? NEIN! D:
not my tommi poo.

Wow, Writers block is terrible. D: poor Bill.
continue pleaseee ;D

[<3ByYourSide<3]

i love your story! MORE!!!!!!! :D

[D.C.Valentine]

Just an update on how things are going....

I'm working on chapter four I believe.

Interesting things will happen.

I won't post til monday, so you all will have to wait.

Toodles!

-DCV-

[LipsOfAnAngel]

dang it! i hate waiting! *pouts*

[bbgroove]

(O_o)
I.....
Love....
This Story!!!

[D.C.Valentine]

CHAPTER FOUR

Bill felt he was at his home away from home. He sat up in the dark room and looked at the four people staring back at him. The seemed normal enough, and he felt like he had known them forever.

"Shall we delve into salutations?" one said, a tall, young male with long blonde hair. He wore dark purple eye shadow, and his complexion was ghost-white. Bill nodded, agreeing to the proposition. The other three nodded with him.

"Will start with the introduction of our newest member," said another, a female with bright red hair and a gaudy nose ring. "State the name you received before entering this establishment. Birth names are discouraged." Bill wondered briefly the reason for secrecy.

"Raven," Bill said, and all four held out their hands. He shook each of them, looking into their eyes as he did so. When he reached the fourth one, the one with blonde hair, he noticed something different in his eyes. The man grabbed his wrist and pushed up his sleeve. The lady handed him a syringe and Bill's eyes widened.

"What are you doing?" he asked, fear washing through him.

"Relax, Raven. This is only initiation," said the male, and injected the strange liquid into his veins.

"My name is Hatcher," the male began after returning Bill's sleeve to the original position. "This is Riever." He nodded toward a male of the same age with short black hair. "This is Feuer." He nodded toward the woman with fiery red hair. "And you should recognize this one," he finished.

"Liebe," Bill replied, and nodded.

"You now have a brief taste of the condition called synesthesia. It will wear off in a few hours, since you are not privileged enough to have a full dose. Do you know what synesthesia is?" Hatcher asked. Bill thought for a moment, finding the strange word vaguely familiar. When nothing came, he shook his head.

"Liebe, would you care to explain?" Hatcher asked. Liebe nodded and gave a very brief explanation. "Synesthesia is a condition in which when something is spoken of, the person thinks of a color. For example, if Hatcher said tree, I would think of the color red, instead of the type of tree or what grows on the tree. Does that make sense?" Bill nodded, feeling completely lost.

"As a privileged member of this underground club, you have a few obligations to withhold. You must never speak of anything that goes on in here to anyone else, including those who once were closest to you. You must always answer to me, regardless of how ridiculous my request may be. You must never murder a member of Synesthesia. A few of us have been blessed to be born with the condition, and we started this organization. To kill us would be killing all that we stand for, and that is punishable by death." Bill thought the obligations were a bit much, but agreed to follow them nonetheless. Hatcher grinned, but Bill did not see the evil in his eye.

"Excellent. I already have your first task available. Are you willing to take it?"

"I am," Bill replied. He wondered what Hatcher had planned for him.

"There is a person in the back room tied up with a potato sack over his head. He is being punished for very briefly meddling in our affairs. You are to be the punisher. You do not know who this person is, and this person does not know you. You are to beat him with everything you have." Feuer gave Hatcher an angry glare upon revealing the gender of the prisoner. Bill had a horrid feeling about his first task, and the name of his brother popped into his head.

"Tom! What if it's Tom? What if you have my brother?" Bill asked hastily. He didn't want to risk a chance at harming his own blood.

"You do not have a brother. There is no Tom," Hatcher said, and Bill was immediately convinced.

"I do not have a brother. There is no Tom." Liebe led Bill through a black door into a grey room with a single light dangling over a steel chair. In the chair, a young male sat, his head bowed. There was a brown potato sack over his head, and he was clad in a grey jumpsuit. Bill was handed a bat, and was left in the room with the prisoner. He closed his eyes and began to swing, finding relief in the blows that landed on the male. He heard the male weep, but continued to beat him with the wooden bat until he was sure the male was unconscious. The male slumped over in the chair and Bill caught a brief glimpse of the male's hair before he was pulled out of the room. All he remembered was a dark honey blonde color.

"Well done!" Hatcher said. "He'll be sent to our prison on the other side of Berlin, along with a medley of other people. It's where you will go should you dare to dsobey me." Bill smiled at the praise. Hatcher permitted his exit and he walked back to the hotel, noticing that the receptionist happened to be Liebe.

"Hatcher has taken a liking to you. He may keep you longer than his other pets." Bill shrugged the statement away and continued toward his room. He pulled the key out of his pocket and stuck it into its slot, but when he held the knob to quickly open the door upon removing the key, he noticed that it was already open. He turned on the light and noticed that the place had been ransacked. On the beige walls, he noticed large word written in what he assumed to be dripping blood.

TRAITOR

Who could have possibly written something so accusing? He hasn't deceived anyone, so there was no cause for the word. He looked around at the mess and noticed that his personal belongings were missing. He had nothing more than the clothes on his back. The dose of synesthesia seemed to wear off, and he regained his head. He wondered if he even received synesthesia.

"What's going on?" he whispered.

"You do know what they say about idle minds, right?" asked Liebe. Bill turned and saw her leaned agains the fram surrounding the ajar door.

"I believe the phrase involves idle hands," Bill corrected. She shrugged and said, "Same difference. You shouldn't let your mind wander."

"I let my mind do what it pleases. I'm able to write when it's on its own course."

"Your chance for free thought was lost when you stepped through the doors of Synesthesia. You are Hatcher's now. If he likes you as much as I think he does, you'll do his murderous bidding until you kill yourself. His previous pets betrayed him and they're at the prison on the other side of Berlin, breaking rocks and whatnot." Bill suddenly became frightened.

What have I gotten myself into?

He tried to ponder a way out of this mess, but all he could think of was Synesthesia and obeying Hatcher.

"Who wrote traitor on the wall?" Bill asked, jerking his thumb behind him.

"I believe you used to know them. Hatcher was appalled that they knew enough to accuse you, but they've been taken care of. They are at the prison along with the man you nearly killed with a baseball bat. Feuer has a place you can sleep if you wan tout of htis mess," she said, nodding at the disheveled room.

"I'll be down in a minute. I need to gather myself." Liebe acknowledged the statement and made her way back to the front desk. Bill walked inot the bathroom after feeling the sudden need to urinate. He noticed a penned note taped to the wall. He recognized the scrawl but could not recall the author.

You promised never to conform, and now your conformity may be the death of us all. Take back what's rightfully yours and save those you love.

What does this mean? Am I to betray Hatcher to save a familiar face that I cannot recall? Is betrayal possible? Bill asked himself. He pocketed the note and decided to ponder on it later. He made his way downstairs, where Liebe would take him back to Synesthesia, and he would sleep in one of the many back rooms from now on. It would be there that he began to plot Hatcher's betrayal.

****

I have a slight feeling this chapter might be the least favorite among those I have written so far, but bear with me. Next one will be better. I promise. You'll also be able to tell what I was watching or listening to because it played a part in that particular prose.

That will come tomorrow.

Whatcha think so far? I can answer most questions you may have.

-DCV-

[LipsOfAnAngel]

i had a feeling of foreboding while i was reading that. i was soo still, and the music i'm listening to didn't help either. great, but poor bill, poor tom, and everybody. this story is crazy but amazing. mehr bitte.

[luvukaulitztwins]

AHHH IM KINDA CONFUSED LOLZ MEHR BITTE

[D.C.Valentine]

CHAPTER FIVE

Bill did not realize the full extent of the deeds he has done of Hatcher until his wandering mind reminded him. A free-spirited young male who once loved everyone was now killing anyone at Hatcher's command. There was blood on his hands both physically and metaphorically, and he could seem to get neither off.

"Will all of great Neptune's oceans wash this blood from my hands? No, it would turn the seas incarnadine, making the green one red," he whispered, reciting a line from Shakespeare's Macbeth to the best of his knowledge. He sat up on the firm bed in the dark room that Liebe had led him to nearly a week ago. He assumed that everyone had left to sleep, and did not know that Hatcher stood outside the door listening to his every word.

"I feel so claustrophobic here," Bill whispered to himself, then began on the words in the dream he had before even discovering this place.

Heartbreak. Incarnate. I'm nothing if not your memories...

"Claustrophobic?" Hatcher asked, entering the room. Bill looked up at him and furrowed his brow. "Is that how you feel about this?"

"I'm out of here. I don't want this anymore." Bill stood up and walked to the door, but Hatcher grabbed his arm. His pleasant eyes now bore anger.

"When you entered this building, you lost everything that belonged to you. You cannot have it back." Still narrowed his eyes and freed himself.

"You can't make me stay. I'll break away." He raced through the door and a plethora of other doors until he was in the cramped space crammed with people and a techno beat. The front door was in his line of sight, and he smiled knowing that he would actually make it out of here....

****

This is obviously not all of the chapter. I love the elements of surprise, so I like to leave off abruptly, and this is the perfect place. Come back in about five or six hours, and you'll feel some relief finally occur.

LipsOfAnAngel: Things will get better, mark my words.

luvukaulitztwins: why so confused?

-DCV-

[luvukaulitztwins]

Idk i have read all of the chapters u have wrote so far over and over again how did he start beating ppl up thts wat confusing me im gonna read every chapter again and see if it will makes sense and more plz xD

[D.C.Valentine]

(Chapter five cont'd)

...until Hatcher shouted a command that made the entire room turn on him.

"Seize him!" He was tackled by at least four people to the ground. Hatcher caught up with him, a look of pure disgust on his face.

"Take him to the prison. I never want to see this scum again." Bill struggled as much as he could, but the strenght of four men was too much. One of them clubbed him on the back of his head with something hard and blunt, and he lost consciousness.


Bill woke up in a cold stone room surrounded by the five men and two women. He was stark naked, with one man thrusting one of the grey jumpsuits he saw at Synesthesia toward him. He donned it quickly, not wanting to reveal himself to them any longer than he had to. One of the men grabbed his arm firmly and pulled him out of the room and led him down a hallway. Bill glanced up and noted the moonlit sky. Was the prison without a ceiling? He noticed that the walls were so high, it didn't matter.

The man led Bill to a steel gate and pushed him through, shutting it promptly. Using his thin black club, he banged on the bars and shouted, "Fresh meat!" Bill began to wander forward, hearing the sound of a sudden stampede. He saw quickly the thousand or so people racing toward him. Would he be eaten alive?

The rushing stampede stopped in front of him, frowns on all of their faces. They seemed to recognize him, and he wondered how they would even know him.

"It's a pity that you are here and not on the other side, isn't it?" asked one of them, his voice curt and accusing.

"Bill Kaulitz," a voice announced. "I never thought I'd see the day where I had the pleasure of laying my eyes on you once again." The group of prisoners parted, and Bill's mouth fell agape at the figure coming toward him, the one who announced his name.

"Tom?" he asked. His eyes welled up with tears at the sight of his other half. "What happened to you?" Tom's eyes were dark with bruises, and his lip was split. While Bill couldn't see it at the moment, Tom was hurt all over.

"I was beaten with a wooden bat," he said, frowning. He did not seem excited in the least bit to see his brother.

"Oh, dear God," Bill whispered, realizing the significance of remembering the dark honey blonde hair color. "Tom, I'm so sorry."

"Why should you be sorry? You couldn't help what happened to me," Tom said. Bill bowed his head, indicating otherwise. Tom nodded, realizing the truth.

"You were the one who beat me with a wooden bat. I get it." Tom turned and walked away, followed by the immense amount of prisoners. Bill remained where he stood, tears slowly falling down his face. The day he walked out of his house to ponder in the rain was the beginning of the very brief rift that was driven between Tom and him. He only hoped he could repair what was damaged, and he wished he knew who broke into his room.

Unable to face anyone, he sat upon the floor where he once stood and curled into a ball. He had to find a way to atone for what he had done. He had to find a way to beg for forgiveness.

--

"Tom, you're being ridiculous," said a man with short blonde hair. "He's your brother."

"He beat me with a wooden bat."

"Gustav's right, Tom. You are being ridiculous. How many times have the two of you fought and it ended in somebody getting hurt in some shape, form, or fashion?" asked a male with shoulder-length reddish brown hair.

"You do have a point, Georg, but he still beat me with a wooden bat, and this wasn't the same."

"Did he see your face while he was doing it?" Georg asked. "Did he look into your eyes with malicious discontent and begin to wail on you?"

"I had a potato sack over my head and I was wearing the grey crap for clothing," said Tom.

"Bill didn't know it was you, or he wouldn't have swung the bat the first time. You know that," said Gustav.

"Didn't you say that you wrote traitor on his hotel room wall with red paint a week or so ago?" Tom accused, changing the subject.

"Somebody had to make him wake up and smell the coffee," Gustav replied, shrugging. Georg looked up at the tall building structures in the prison and pondered an escape. There were pipes running on the outside walls taht were climbable and there were crevices where the large steel tiles didn't quite fit together.

"I think we can get out of here," Georg said thoughtfullly.

"How?" Tom asked, ready to leave this hole.

"Go bring Bill here, and we'll discuss it with him. Stop being a baby," Georg said with a sigh. He folded his arms and waited for Tom to reply. Tom took a seat on the cold ground and shook his head.

"Bill betrayed us all. How can I begin to forgive?"

"You are his brother, for crying out loud! If there's anyone in this entire prison who should forgive him, it's you!" Gustav exclaimed. "You two vowed to tackle everything together, are you seriously going to make him do this alone?" Tom nodded. Gustav threw up his hands and said, "I don't believe this." He turned and began to walk away.

"Where the **** are you going?" Tom asked.

"To get Bill." Georg nodded slightly, agreeing with Gustav's actions.

"I'll discuss the terms of our escape with the other prisoners," Georg said.

"Can I have a brief explanation so i can inform Bill and we'll be ready to go?" Gustav asked. Georg agreed.

"Do you know the super long rope that the warden has all of us dragging all over the place?" Gustav nodded. "We're going to drag it one last time until we reach the best spot to climb, and then we will all have to make haste in going to the top. Once we get there, I'll figure something else out." Gustav walked to the iron gates where Bill was curled in a ball, fast asleep. He shook him awake.

"Gustav? You're here?" Bill asked. "How did you get here?"

"After writing traitor on yoru hotel room wall to make you wake up, Georg and I were captured and thrown in here," Gustav said with a shrug. "But never mind that. We are getting out of here." Bill sat up and stretched, the cold ground hard on his body.

"How are we getting out of here?" Bill asked, and Gustav explained it for him.

"What super long rope?"

"You'll know it when we get to it. Now follow me," Gustav commanded softly.

"What about Tom?" Bill asked, still worried about how much his own twin brother hated him.

"Forget about him. He'll get over it. do you remember when you threw his favorite hat out of a tenth story window?" Bill smiled as he recalled the memory. They were at the recording studio and Tom and he were fighting again. Tom had taken his eyeliner hostage, so he stole Tom's favorite hat. Tom promised to return the eyeliner if Bill promised to return the hat. Bill threw the hat out the window, knowing he had much more eyeliner than Tom tried to bargain with. He chuckled when he thought of how long it took Tom to quit pouting. The hat was eventually retrieved, and a wash cycle was enough to remedy its condition, but Tom still pouted.

Bill followed Gustav to where the prisoners stood. Tom still sat on the floor, his arms folded.

"We'll stand in rows of four. So that the warden can't ascertain who the learder might be in the event we were caught, Georg, you, Tom, and I will be in the second row in that specific order. We'll each hold a strand of the awkward rope and drag it to Georg's specified location. He'll give the command, and we will all run like **** to the left where it will be easiest to climb," Gustav said to Bill before stopping.

"Why are we dragging the rope?" Bill asked. Gustav shrugged.

"I haven't the slightest idea."

"Everyone to your places!" Georg shouted. Gustav grabbed Tom and pulled him up, then dragged him to his spot between Bill and him. Georg stood to Bill's left. Once everyone was in place, Georg tapped the shoulder of the man in front of him and he began to walk. The entire line followed suit, and soon all of the prisoners were marching. Tom kept his eyes focused forward, making no attempt to patch things up with Bill. Gustav didn't chance a glance at Tom, knowign what he was doing. He sighed softly, realizing his attempts were hopeless.

Bill gave up waiting on Tom and said to him, "I promise you right now I'd never let you down." Tom glanced at him and nearly walked into the man in front of him. Everyone had stopped and released the pointless rope they were dragging, their heads turned to the left.

"READY, SET, GO! IT'S TIME TO RUN!" Reminiscent of the stampede in The Lion King, everyone raced to the side of the conjoined building structures and began their climb up. Tom stopped bill and looked him in his eyes. Gustav and Georg stood behind as well, not wanting to leave the Kaulitz twins behind.

"Bill I'm sor--"

"Dont' even start," Bill interrupted. "I'm the one who beat you with a wooden bat. I called you out of the safety of your home. I walked out. This could have all been prevented if I had never left to fight a writer's block."

"All this time, when you needed me, I was there. I wasn't there for you here at this prison, because I thought you had betrayed us all. I thought you threw away all that we vowed never to lose," Tom said.

"All this sentimentality is great and all, but if we don't get up there soon, the guards will notice what has happened and we'll never get out of this mess," Gustav pointed out. Tom and Bill nodded, and the four of them began their ascent along with the rest of them.

*******

On the scene where Gustav reminds Bill of their fight regarding eyeliner and a hat, I do not know if that's actual fact. I made it up.

luvukaulitztwins: The problem with my writing is the fact that I don't explain enough, and I jump from one thing to the next without much explanation. The recitation of "Miseria Cantare-the beginning" put Bill into a trance, and he was at Hatcher's bidding. He only beat one person (Tom) and killed a couple others, but hated himself for it. So he tried to break free. Hatcher's my own special version of Charles Manson, and Synesthesia is one big cult. Does that help make more sense? Bill's going to hate himself some more later on for his murders, just so you know.

And I promised you, dear readers, that Tom Kaulitz would be fine. Curse you for not believing me. :)

-DCV-

[luvukaulitztwins]

OMG I UNDERSTAND OMG BTW IK I GET IT READY SET GO MORE

[LipsOfAnAngel]

that chappy was so the RSG video. i love it all!! mehr bitte!

[D.C.Valentine]

I am aware that Bill shouts ready set go in the song, but Bill was kind of lost at that time, and everyone loves georg. I had just watched the video when I decided that that fit perfectly.

More soon. I have to think it up.

-DCV-

[Tom_Screams]

this fan fic so awesome :P !! i totally love it its way better than mine. I liek the whole mysterious setting and the refrences to the song. its really awesome. the Synesthesia is scary...i think i might have dreams about them tonight

Don&#39;t look under your bed

[ChOcoLaTe_CuP_CaKe]

this was amazeing

i love u! i dont care if i dont know u i love u for wrtieing this story ...

one of the best things, in general, that i have read in years ... im so serious ...

i love how u incorprated ready set go into the fic , i was like like ... no words can it explain it ... im sure many people have told u this before ... but ur writeing is awesome dont dont stop!

once again i loved it ... i really did!

[bbgroove]

L.
O.
V.
E.

[xMusiicLuv]

NEW READER


luvvv your FF

must have more!!!! :P

[D.C.Valentine]

Chapter Six

The sky seemed remarkably blue once the quartet reached the rooftops. They looked around, noticing that the prisoners had made it safely, but were scratching their heads as to how to climb back down on the other side to the streets below.

"It's absolutely enthralling that after a year of torture we are up here, but what next, Mr. Genius?" Tom asked, his eyes upon Georg. Bill and Gustav looked at the receiver of the inquiry, pondering the exact same thing.

"Are all of you idiots that dense? We climb down, that's what we do next!" Georg exclaimed. He peered over the ledge, noting that the ground was much closer than with the prison. It wouldn't be so far.

"So how do we climb down without falling to our deaths?" Bill asked, not wanting to die after breaking away from Hatcher and his followers.

"Very slowly and carefully. You can't rush this sort of thing," Georg replied. He sounded confident in what he was talking about, like he had done this sort of thing many times before. Gustav looked around, testing the situation.

"You say very slowly, correct?" he asked, receiving a nod from Georg in return. "How do we descend slowly with that?" He pointed to his immediate right, where Germany's version of the American Blackhawk was steadily making its way, bearing twin twenty millimeter machine guns. A loudspeaker announced, "You have two options. One, you may surrender and meet your fate at the prison, or attempt an escape and meet your death. Either way you choose, you cannot win. You choose the manner of you execution."

Georg glanced over the ledge once more, and noticed the green cloth awning protruding from the building.

"Jump now. The awning will soften our fall. Once on hard ground, we run like **** until a safe point can be established," Georg said. The other three nodded, leaving the large amount of prisoners behind. With Bill going first, each took their turn leaping from the rooftop. When Georg jumped, he was surprised that the tension did not cause the awning to tear, but was relieved that all four of them survived the fall. Now they must survive the run.

Bill felt the extent of damage done to his lungs through his horrid habit when he had to run for his life. He didn't know how far he would have to run, and he was already out of breath. He could hear his heart thudding over the rhythmic thud of the soles of his shoes. Tom, Georg, and Gustav were a few yards ahead of him, unaware that he was slowing to a stop. He could go no longer. Bill pushed himself harder to try and catch up, feeling more winded the harder he worked himself. The three men ahead of him seemed so far away. He tried to call out to them, but the words wouldn't come. He fought for air, and fought to catch his breath as he lost it quickly.

He collapsed.

Bill could hear the helicopter coming toward him, but he couldn't find the strength to move. The other three were no longer in his line of vision, and he wondered briefly how long it would take them to realize he wasn't there. He could hear marching feet, and realized with slight fear that his end was imminent. His punishment for his crimes would come.

"I deserve to die," he whispered, the only words left. He closed his eyes, waiting for the cold hand to close over him.

We all deserve to die....

*****

This will probably be the shortest chapter I ever write. That is all I am saying on the matter. Keep reading, and don't give up on me, regardless of what I do to the boys.

Would someone like the luxury of being in my epic story? I need a female preferably, one that's around their age, maybe pushing twenty. She'll be the antagonist, so it's a big role.

-DCV-

[LipsOfAnAngel]

ME ME MEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my name is nicole, or you can use nikki. i'm 17, you can make me older if needed. i have short brown hair and blue-gray eyes. i'm 5'6", um..... is that it???

mehr bitte!

[D.C.Valentine]

Chapter Seven

Bill opened his eyes to the blinding light peering through the window in a familiar room. He looked around, noticing all of the posters of pin up models and women in swimsuits.

"Oh, ****," he whispered, his voice raspy. "I'm in Tom's room." He wondered why, in God's name, was he in Tom's room and not his own?

"Good morning, sunshine!" Tom exclaimed in a sing song voice, a trace of sarcasm evident.

"Why am I in your room?" Bill asked. Tom shrugged and walked to his bedside with a tray complete with hot soup, orange juice, and a small handful of apple slices.

"Mom said my bed was softer than yours," he replied.

"That's a lie," Bill remarked as Tom started to set the tray in his lap. "You get one of those **** nasty dreds into my soup and I'll beat you to a bloody pulp," Bill threatened.

"Again? You've already beaten me, remember?" he asked with a slight smirk. Only Tom could make Bill's horrid deeds seem less horrible. He noticed that most of the wounds on Tom's face were fading away, and were barely visible. The cut on his lip mirrored his lip ring, making it appear like he had two instead of one. Bill grimaced at Tom's bruised arms. He didn't see them before, due to the jumpsuit Tom was wearing. Now he was clad in his familiar attire, which included the shirt and pats that look two sizes to big, and one of a plethora of godforsaken hats.

"I'll spare you the horror," Bill said with a weak smile. "What happened? I don't remember crawling into your bed." Tom sighed and found himself a seat amidst the vast mess that described his room. Bill knew it was time for a story.

"After running for a good thirty minutes, we stopped to catch our breaths. It was at that time we realized you weren't with us. Georg wanted to stop and think of when we could have lost you, but I wouldn't wait. He shouted after me, trying to say it's too late, I'll kill us all, blah, blah, blah. I'm sure he thought you were dead, and he didn't want all of us to die just to save your white ***, so he tried to call me back. You were still breathing when I found you, and the helicopter was getting closer. Thank God you felt one hundred pounds. I scooped you up and ran back to Georg and Gustav, and we all rushed you to a hospital. That turned to be an utter waste of time, because all you needed was rest." Bill processed the story, his hart warm and fuzzy from the heroic act his dear brother had performed when last he remembered, Tom was ready to disown him.

"How long have I been out?" Bill asked after taking a small sip of the chicken broth.

"Two weeks," Tom said with a sigh. His tone made two weeks seem like nothing. There was a soft knock on the door, and it creaked open slightly.

"Come in," Tom said, and soon Bill smiled when seeing Gustav. He had his tattered gray baseball cap in his hand and a relieved smile on his face.

"How's Bill?" he asked.

"Ask him yourself," Tom replied.

"I'm fine, Gustav," Bill assured before the inquiry could leave Gustav's mouth.

"Since all of this has begun, none of us has time to stop and take a break. Would it be okay with you if I go to Switzerland for a couple of weeks?" Gustav asked. Bill furrowed his brow and exchanged glances with Tom.

"I don't understand why you're asking us, but go ahead. We all need a vacation from time to time," Bill said.

"And you don't have to stay two weeks. Stay a month if you like. ****, move to the country if you so desire, just come see us on weekends, m'kay?" Tom added. Gustav smiled and thanked them, then made his exit.

(to be continued)
******

This isn't all of it. Chapter seven isn't finished. I'll have the antagonist introduced shortly, so stay tuned.

-DCV-

[LipsOfAnAngel]

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *flails* i'm coming into the story soooooooon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! yay, mehr bitte!

[luvukaulitztwins]

OMG NO NO NO U MUST ADD MORE I SAY NOW *holds knife up to u* :shock: xD sorry going hyper
Post more when u can =]

[xMusiicLuv]

OMG i haven't been on this in ages!!

JUST PURE O M F G!!!!

***breath...breath.***
okj I think I'm fine now

[D.C.Valentine]

Chapter Seven (cont'd)

He left the Kaulitz home to a small taxi, where he would hop onto a train headed to Switzerland.

Once on the train, he sat in the last seat, hoping to catch an ounce of sleep once the trainb egan to move. he watched the passengers steadily board, and one young woman caught his eye. She wore the simplest of clothing and wore them well. Her brown hair fell to her shoulders just over her strapless tube shirt*, revealing her silky alabastar skin. Her eyes were a glorious blue gray, and he felt a direct look would make him ment. Her eyes locked with his (disproving his feeling), and soon she sat in front of him.

"Hello, sir," she said. Her accent was strange to him, and he could tell she wasn't from around here.

"Hello," he replied, adoring the velvet tone she added to his mother tongue. "My name is Gustav Schafer."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Schafer. I am Estelle St. Claire." She held her hand out with her palm facing downward, indication he was to take her hand and kiss her knuckles. He did just so.

The train began to move, and he found himself staring wistfully out the window. he tried to ignore the presence of the young woman he was immediately attracted to, but she didn't seem to leave.

"Pleasant weather we're having," she said in an attempt to propose a conversation.

"Indeed," he replied, his eyes not leaving the window.

With nothing more to be said, Gustav closed his eyes and slept the rest of the trip. He was blessed with a dreamless sleep after two weeks of being plagued by nightmares. His mind continued to work as he slept, putting thoughts into his mind behind closed lids. He tried so much to forget his stay at the prison and his escape, because he remembered quite clearly his mind preparing for the horrible news of Bill Kaulitz's death. he was relieved to learn he had lived, and knew that he simply must leave his life to regain his composure. Now he was on a train seated across from the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and yet he knew he would pass her up, or believed he would. He wondered where she was heading, knowing that due to her accent, she can't be following him.

He woke up after feeling the long train slow to a stop. The beautiful woman was no longer in front of him, but a small note was in her place.

Trinity's Cafe. 1630 sharp.

He pocketed the note. He knew where the cafe was, having been there before on his previous trips to Switzerland. He left the train before he was forced to the next destination without his personal luggage.

He recalled why he hated riding trains as much as flying, due to the extended period of time he had to wait to hunt down his own belongings. Once his belongings were retrieved, he headed to the nearest hotel, where he would rent a room for at least a week.


"Ah, Mr. Schafer," said the male receptionist. He remembered Gustav from his last visit. "Welcome back. Shall I ready the same room for you?"

"You may," Gustav replied. He paid well for his room, and he seemed to always be welcome.

"Have you ever heard of someone by the name Estelle St. Claire?" Gustav asked while the receptionist was frantically searching for someone to clean up room three thirty seven. He paused briefly to answer the question, hoping this would buy him time.

"I have, sir. She's earned quite a name for herself. She speaks to no one but those she wishes to talk to, and lets no one touch her. Most have never seen someone of her absolute beauty. Why do you ask?"

"I met her on a train. She told me to meet her at Trinity's Cafe at four thirty this afternoon," Gustav said, and showed him the note.

"Then you'd better hurry. You have about twenty minutes to get there, and this is a large city. If you run fast, you'll make it. I'll have your room ready when you get back," said the receptionist after releasing a large sigh of relief. Gustav nodded and raced out the glass doors. He didn't stop to glance at the strange looks passersby were handing him as he ran as fast as he could. He found it remarkable that he wasn't winded after the first five minutes, but recalled once again his run for his life. This twenty minute sprint was nothing compared to the hour long race.

The familiar sign bearing the title of the cafe he was supposed to head to came into sight. He glanced at his Rolex briefly, smiling when he had five minutes to spare. He slowed to a stop in front of the cafe and waited. He looked around, searching for the woman he met on the train, his memory keen on the image.

"Gustav." He heard his name whispered and scanned the area until his name was called again. he saw Estelle peering from the corner of the cafe. Her hand beckoned to him teasingly, and he came willingly to her. She led him behind the cafe, where she grabbed a handful of his shirt in either hand and pushed him against the wall.

"What the-" he began to protest before she pressed her warm lips to his. He placed his hands on her upper arms and kissed her back just as passionately, engaging himself in the elegant dance of tongues. The kiss was unexpected, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. He came to the conclusion that she absolutely had to be French, since no other race could possibly kiss as well as she.

He pulled from her, both of them panting with loss of breath.

"Why?" he asked, slowly catching his breath. She ignored his question.

"I have an apartment at this address," she said and handed him a sheet of paper. "Under teh welcome mat is a loose floorboard. Pull it open and you'll find a small box containing a spare key. I will meet you there in a couple of weeks. I have some other business I am in need of taking care of. Until we meet again," she said without pause. She seemed capable of catching her breath faster than him. She gave him a small kiss and made her exit. He glanced at the address, noting that it was only a block from the hotel he originally planned to stay at. He realized at that moment that he had left his luggage at the hotel and the receptionist had probably already taken it to his specified room. He began to walk back, catching his breath while deciding he would have to tell the receptionist he found somewhere else to stay.

*****

*I hate describing clothing.

So there's the rest of chapter seven, and I do hope you enjoy. Remember that if there is any questions you have, don't hesitate to ask. I will answer most of them, unless they involve in what may happen in the future chapters.

LipsOfAnAngel: Are you pleased so far?

-DCV-

[LipsOfAnAngel]

*speechless* i'm awesome!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! hahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! love ya girl!!!!!! and mehr bitte! :twisted:

[amandaaraujo]

omg keep n writing i jut started reading it ts amazing and the song ready set go totally completed the story keep writing love it :D

[xMusiicLuv]

ooh great chappiee

[D.C.Valentine]

Chapter Eight

A few days had passed by. Bill was making a healthy recovery and was already tired of sleeping in Tom's bed with his pinup girls all around and his mockery driving him insane. To alleviate some of the pressure, Georg booted Tom out of his own room and attempted to cheer him up after asking the whereabouts of Mr. Gustav Schafer.

"Have you seen Gustav?" Georg asked. Bill nodded, knowing exactly where he went.

"He decided to take a trip to Switzerland to try to get rid of some of the tension that's been floating around. I couldn't agree more with his thought process, and I hope he's having a wonderful time." Georg smiled and nodded.

"He needs to get laid. I can't help the fact that all the chicks are after me," Tom announced through the wooden door that barred him from his own room.

"If all the chicks you **** saw this room, I highly doubt you would be getting laid any more," Bill said. Georg chuckled softly and took a quick glance around.

"Do you disagree?" Bill asked him.

"Actually, it's quite the opposite. I couldn't agree with you more, no matter how hard I try." Georg tried to remember his original intentions for entering the room, but they seemed to have left the building, along with Mr. Presley. He recalled a need to walk to town and purchase some products for his better good. He asked Bill if he needed anything from the store.

"You're braving that awful world of kids with cameras?" Bil asked. Georg sighed and nodded. "Sometimes I wonder, Georg. I personally don't need anything, but I'm sure Tom would be delighted to think up something." Georg uttered an exasperated sigh at the thought of purchasing something Tom would want. Georg bade Bill goodbye and opened the door, where Tom stood patiently waiting to reenter.

"Is there anything you need while I am out?" he asked. Tom smiled and replied, "You could get me a Playboy."

"You're terrible," Georg said and walked off. The biggest shopping chains in the town he happened to live in were right down the road, so a simple walk would do just fine. He donned a black beanie and a pair of shades in a blatant attempt to hide his features. He was not in the mood for ten thousand women running to him screaming his name demanding either sex or an autograph, or perhaps both. If Tom would have gone with him, he would have to force himself to be in the mood.

It was absolutely fantastic that Tom did not go, or the woman that just caught his eye would have made the two of them fight. She wore a vibrant fitted red sweater that accented her features and brought attention to her silky smooth alabastar face. He immediately glanced at her left ring finger to see if she was taken, and when he noticed she wasn't, he initiated a conversation.

"I do not believe we have made an acquaintance before, Miss," Georg said politely.

"I do not believe we have, young sir," she said with a flirtatious smirk.

"I am Georg Listing," he said softly.

"My name is Celia Friote," she introduced. She extended her hand with her palm facing downward and he did not hesitate to softly peck her white knuckles.

"Can I interest you in the finest German cuisine on this side of town?" Georg offered.

"Are you asking me on a date after knowing me a grand total of thirty seconds?" she asked, her voice only slightly accusing.

"Perhaps I am. Do you object?" Georg asked. She shook her head slowly, a wry smile upon her face.

"I am staying at that hotel," she said, and pointed across the street. It was the same hotel Bill stayed at a few weeks ago. "I'll be waiting in the lobby at seven o'clock this evening." He nodded, agreeing to her terms. She graced him with a soft kiss and made her exit. He watched her enter the hotel and forgot why he even walked out this way. He raced to his home next to the Kaulitz's and began to prepare for his date with the strange woman.


Clad in a tuxedo shirt and blue jeans, he walked to the specified location in which he was to meet her. He wasn't one to bear elegance, but in the case of Miss Friote, he only wished to please her.

She met him outside the hotel, dressed in the same thing as he had seen her in before, which didn't bother him in the least bit. He could not recall the name of the restaurant he was taking her to, but he did no its precise location and had no qualms about walking the short distance there.

Once inside the restaurant, he was quick to find an open table bearing no Germans. He offered her chair and sat down across from her, trying to remember all of the proper etiquette techniques his distraught mother had tried to cram into his small mind. He called for a menu and a waiter soon came. He frowned when he noticed it was an adolescent pimple-faced teenager who's pubescent eyes remained on Celia's chest the majority of the time.

"I think I'll only have the red wine," she said politely without ever opening the menu. "I don't have much of an appetite."

"An excellent choice," Georg complimented. She inclined her head toward him and smiled. "I believe I will have the same." The waiter glanced at her chest once more and left to tend to their requests.

"I have come to the conclusion that you absolutely must be from the beautiful and wondrous country of France," Georg said. She raised both of her eyebrows in slight amusement like she had heard this before, and replied, "An intelligent conclusion, if I may be so bold as to say. How did you come to it, Mr. Listing?"

"Georg, please," he corrected. "Your facial features are unlike anything I have ever seen, and I've heard of the undeniable beauty of those who hail from France. You have a flawless figure that accents the beauty you bear in your face," he said. She smiled, honored at the compliment. "This may sound crazy, but I never believed in love at first sight until you came into my line of vision."

"That does seem a little out of the ordinary and it's not something I hear everyday. Since you seem to be professing your love for me, I would like to make an offer. The best fashion in which you may proceed to get to know me is spending time with me. I have a small apartment in Northeastern France that I am having trouble keeping. I hate to ask for money, but would you be willing to split the rent and live with me?" A normal male who was not binded by her beauty and grace would have declined the preposterous idea on the spot, but since Georg was, he agreed. She pulled out a small notepad and pen from her purse and jotted something down. She ripped out the paper and handed it to him, then returned the items to her purse.

"This is the address to the apartment in France. I have some business in need of tending to, so I won't be there when you arrive. Make yourself at home." He smiled and nodded, then walked her home, ignoring the waiter who just brought their wine.

At the door to the hotel, she turned to him and apologized. "I'm sorry I seem to be begging for money, but I really have nowhere else to go. You seem like an understanding gentleman, and I feel an immediate attraction to you and look forward to the time we will spend together."

"Don't apologize. Bad things tend to happen that you cannot control. I'll see to it that you are very happy, because I can't help the attraction I feel toward you." She smiled and kissed him softly, then bade him goodnight. Upon entering his own home, he realized that he would be moving to France.

****

I refuse to answer any questions regarding the upcoming chapters, since a major event will soon unfold.

For the record, I will tell you that you are going to hate the first woman, this woman and the next two.

-DCV-

[LipsOfAnAngel]

i wonder why. *wink wink* mehr bitte!

[D.C.Valentine]

Chapter Nine

Even though Bill was only recovering from exhaustion, Tom was still with him every step of the way. Day in and day out, Tom brought food and means of entertainment to ensure that his brother was comfortable. A few days after finding out that Georg was moving to France, Bill stopped him.

"You don't have to do all of this for me. I don't deserve it," Bill said solemnly. Tom set the dinner tray in Bill's lap and took a seat in his computre chair, preparing for another I'm so sorry speech.

"You've been through a lot. I'm your brother, so I insist that I help." Tom rested the right side of his right foot on top of his left knee and placed his folded hands at the center of his calf muscle.

"You don't understand, Tom. I don't deserve any of this. I committed murder. I killed four people with families that will never see them again. I have to live with this for the rest of my life." Tom's mouth fell agape at the words his ears received. He cursed himself for not having the words to comfort his brother. He knew Bill would have never done this dirty deed had he not been under the control of the despicable cult club. He did the only thing he knew how to do, and that was embrace him. Bill tried to let the tension wash away through the love that he felt. Tom could feel his shirt dampen in the crook of his shoulder.

Bill pushed away and wiped his eyes, smearing the eyeliner he meticulously applied every morning.

"You need to get out. Take a stroll under the moonlight and admire the scenery. I don't want you to have to keep taking care of me," Bill said.

"But--"

"Don't start, Tom. Just go." Tom nodded and left, the sound of his baggy pants swishing against his legs audible. Night had only fallen just an hour ago, so most of the shops were beginning to close.

He took a walk to the park, where he knew the night shade would bring some of the beauty that is hidden in the day time out. He couldn't seem to let his mind stray from Bill's situation and the confession he uttered. He knew that serial murderers didn't care how anybody felt and showed know remorse, but Bill was a normal human being and cannot live with something weighing so heavily on his chest.

As he walked through the park, he noticed a young lady with dark brown hair seated on a marble park bench. He could feel her eyes watching him, but continued to walk. He wasn't in the mood for sex, which was a rare occasion for him. She stood up and wlaked to him, tapping him ever so softly on the shoulder.

"You must be Tom Kaulitz," she said as he turned around. The full effect of her beauty struck him so hard he almost fell backwards. Instead, he took one short step back. She smiled slightly with amusement, and he could tell this wasn't the first time she experienced such a reaction.

"I am. You must have heard of me through Tokio Hotel," he said, knowing that normal people who have never heard of the band couldn't possibly know who he was.

"Actually, I saw you just the other day exiting a store with a paper sack full of random unknown things. I pointed and asked, and was promptly told your name." Tom could tell by her accent that she wasn't from around here. His best guest was that she was French, due to her accent and her undeniable beauty.

"Since you seem to know my name, what might yours be?"

"Angelique Toluard," she replied with a smile.

"Well, Miss Toluard, it is a pleasure to meet you. I must be returning, if you do not mind."

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Kaulitz?" she asked. Tom furrowed his brow. He wasn't used to such formality, and he thought he was perfectly fine.

"What do you mean?"

"Most people I've talked to about you said you never turned down a woman. I'm surprised you haven't led me to your house to do your absolute worst." Tom was appalled that she would say such a thing, but smiled knowing that it was mostly true.

"I prefer to lead women to hotels rooms. Do you happen to have a hotel room?" Tom has not received the luxury of lying next to a woman in a month, and at the sudden blatant offering, he wasn't about to get rid of this one.

"Actually, I have an apartment in the southeastern corner of Denmark. I've been having trouble keeping it, and if you would like to see what love is like with a French woman, then I will see you there."

"I'll be there," Tom said, his blood warming his body and his heart beating in his chest. She smiled and nodded, pleased that she had him wrapped around her finger.

"Excellent." She reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him. On it was the address to the apartment she had mentioned. She also handed him a shiny key.

"Here is the address and the key. Make yourself at home. I have business I have tend to and should return in a couple of weeks." He smiled warmly at her, and she couldn't help but press her lips to his. Tom had never slept with a French woman, even if she lived in Dembark. He couldn't wait to go home and tell Bill the good news.

"I will see you in a couple of weeks," she said, and left into the darkness. He pocketed the key and address and jogged home.



"You're WHAT?" Bill asked, nearly outraged at the preposterous information handed to him.

"I met a French woman at the park and she invited me to live with her so I'm moving to Denmark." Bill could see the elation in his eyes, and knew that she had to be the finest looking woman Tom ever laid eyes on.

"Do you realize how ridiculous this sounds?" Bill asked. Tom smiled and shook his head.

"I'm going to Denmark whether you like it or not. You can either embrace it or shut up about it." Bill sighed and shook his head, then said, "If it's what you truly wish to do, then I'll support you the entire way. I've never seen you this willing to move in with someone you've known two minutes just to sleep with her."

"That's not it, Bill," Tom said. "I think she's the one." Bill released an exasperated sigh.

"She's the one?" he asked, his voice hinting toward sarcasm and not indicating he wanted the answer to the question.

"Ever since I first slept with someone, I knew that true love would smack me in the face, and it has. I have to go, Bill. I have to." Bill knew that he couldn't change Tom's mind once it was set, and allwed him to do what he had to do.

"Just promise me one thing," Bill said.

"Anything," Tom replied.

"Promise me you'll do whatever it takes to stay safe." Tom wrapped his arms around his brother and promised.

"I promise you right now," he began after pulling away. "I'd never let you down."

"Let's hope so," Bill replied. He watched Tom hastily pack with slight amusement, unaware that he woudl be seeing his twin brother this healthy and excited for the very last time.

*********

Not. Saying. Anything.

-DCV-

[Magicly Emoicious]

I love it! *holds up a puppy* more or the puppy gets it. *places a dirk uner it's thoart*

[LipsOfAnAngel]

*GASP* **** that last line!!! mehr bitte!

[bbgroove]

*tear*
that was sooooo....

forboding and I must admit, exteremely heart breaking.

Please don&#39;t let anyof the boys die! PLEASE!!!!!!!!

[D.C.Valentine]

Allow me to repeat myself.

Not. Saying. Anything.

All I will say is prepare for a tragedy.

I've split the boys, what could possibly go wrong?

I thrive on tragedy.

-DCV-

[<3ByYourSide<3]

i absolutly love this stry! more soon!

[D.C.Valentine]

Chapter Ten

Gustav woke with a start, fearing the dream he had just experienced. He had watched from a distance as someone very familiar was shot point blank between the shoulder blades. What impacted him the most during his dream was that the familiar figure crawled as far as he could until he could go no further, the suffering expression of pain never leaving his face.

Gustav stood up and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms then stretched until his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight seeping through the thick curtains. He walked out of what he wagered to be the bedroom and wandered through the apartment in search of the kitchen due to the fact that his tongue was currently sticking to the roof of his mouth. After living with Georg for so long, it was hard to break the memory of the layout of the house ingrained into his mind. It was at that point he wondered something that frightened him a little.

Who was Georg Listing?

The name was a vague memory in the back of his mind, something familiar he couldn't seem to place his finger on. The name seemed like something he should be able to put with a face. It seemed like he should remember, but he didn't.

Then what's my name? he thought to himself. He entered the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, where many twenty ounce Coke bottles rested, plus a plethora of refrigerated foods. He grabbed one and sat at the small kitchen table. He noticed his tattered grey hat resting listlessly in the center. He picked it up and examined it, hoping to gather a stray hidden memory or a name he could have scrawled on the inside. When he found neither, he put the hat on with the bill facing forward. He took a sip of his Coke with his left hand while subconsciously tapping rhythmically with the side of his right thumb. While tapping, the only word that came to his head was Monsoon, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out the significance of that word.

Why can't I remember anything?

After finishing the Coke, he left the bottle on the table and walked into the small living area. He recalled Estelle saying that she was having trouble keeping this apartment, and noticed the reason why. This apartment was so well furnished, he felt at times he was in a small home and not an apartment. He reached for the remote and turned on the television, hearing the morning news.

"Where is Tokio Hotel? Eye witness reporters have spotted Bill Kaulitz, frontman for German rock band Tokio Hotel, walking by himself to the local market. His twin brother, Tom Kaulitz, was nowhere to be found. The brothers are virtually inseparable, so this came as quite a surprise. Drummer Gustav Schafer was reported to have been seen leaving a train in Switzerland, and Georg Listing was seen in France. Have the worst possible outcome happened to the famous band? And where is Tom Kaulitz?"

"So Georg is the bassist for a famous rock band," Gustav said. He still wasn't sure who he was, and it felt somewhat like he was living his own Bourne movie.

"Gustav?" He turned at the inquiry as he heard the door shut. "Are you there, Gustav?"

So that's my name, Gustav confirmed to himself.

"I'm in here, Estelle," he called from the living area. He turned off the television and waited for her to enter.

"How did the business go?" he asked as she sat beside him. Her eyes tested him, seeing how much he knew. When she could find nothing in his expression, she replied, "Well. It went very well. I'm sorry it took longer than expected."

"Apology accepted." He suddenly thought of a sure-fire method that he could use to learn who he was. Being that age that he was, he absolutely had to own a driver's license. He stood up to walk to the bedroom he had slept in.

"Where are you going?" she asked, slightly alarmed.

"Bathroom. I downed a twenty ounce bottle of Coke before you arrived." She nodded, understanding the situation. He wondered why he felt compelled to lie to her. Was there something his subconscious mind wasn't letting him know?

He entered the room and found his luggage piled neatly into a corner. He dug through them all, searching every pocket and every possible place his wallet may be. He found nothing. He felt a sinking feeling in his gut that told him he made a huge, dire mistake. He realized there may be more to Estelle than he thought. As he returned his luggage to its meticulous and neat pile, he connected the dots and came to a dreadful conclusion.

I am Gustav Schafer, and I should be in Germany rather than here. Everything started to come to him. He found his jacket and put it on, shoving his hands into his pockets. He felt his wallet in his pocket and sighed in relief. He walked toward the back of the apartment and realized something else.

She can't know I am suspicious.

He walked back into the living area, working many different plots inside his mind, most of which failed miserably.

"Did you get cold, hon?" she asked as he returned by her side.

"A little. Will you be leaving on another trip?" Once again, she took longer to answer due to testing how much he knew. This time, he was more aware of her reactions to his inquiries, and he deposited them inside his mind to pour over later.

"Actually, in a few hours I have to leave again. The job I have keeps me really busy, and I may be gone weeks at a time."

"I understand. I'll be here when you get home," he said, forcing sincerity. He could feel her reading him this time, and sensed her fear behind him knowing. He placed his arm around her and rested his head on her shoulder, wanting more than anything to be back with his best friends. She cuddled briefly, soaking in the warmth of his body until her cell phone began to ring.

"I have to take this," she said after looking to see who it was. She stood up and walked toward the back room, hoping Gustav would not hear anything. It was to her great misfortune that he heard every word she said.

"Yes?...I thought I told you not to call me here...no, he's not suspicious...I'm heading to France next...what about Georg?...David, stop it...no, I don't have Bill in my grasp...yes, Tom is in Denmark...no, none of them are dead yet...I'll be there in an hour!...okay, bye."

Gustav glanced at the television screen, fear washing over him as he processed the information. If he didn't do anything, his friends may be in trouble. If he didn't work fast, one of them could die.

******

Dun dun dun (bbgroove's rubbing off on me)

So I gave information about the woman away to early, sue me.

Not saying anything on what she said.

I posted two doodles in the art section. Check 'em out!

-DCV-

[ChOcoLaTe_CuP_CaKe]

OH SNAP!

i really didnt see that come ...

wow ... dude im all in suspence now ... nooooo

update soon please

great chap.

[LipsOfAnAngel]

AAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! mehr bitte!

[amandaaraujo]

ahhhhh no one touches bill nor tom goerg gustav ahhhh noooo dont hurt them poor guys :( please write more and im preparing myself for the worst ahhhhh :(

[Magicly Emoicious]

...Wow. Best Chappy Ever! More!

[D.C.Valentine]

It's going to be monday before I post the next one. The tragic chapter ends on a dime, because cliff hangers are awesome.

When I say end on a dime, I mean it. The tragic chapter just stops.

-DCV-

[LipsOfAnAngel]

*GASP!* NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!! :o

[D.C.Valentine]

And...to top it all off...you have to wait two more chappers to get to the tragic one that ends on a dime.

And I misspelled chappers on purpose.

-DCV-

[xMusiicLuv]

And...to top it all off...you have to wait two more chappers to get to the tragic one that ends on a dime.

And I misspelled chappers on purpose.

-DCV-


humph....tihs is frustrating....

[D.C.Valentine]

Chapter Eleven

Georg sat at the small kitchen table with a warm cup of coffee in his hand. About five minutes ago, he saw the same news broadcast that Gustav saw in Switzerland. He was beginning to wonder if his rash decision was truly worth his while. He found the situation quite strange, since somehow it seemed the majority of Tokio Hotel was scattered across Europe. He wondered where Tom was, since it was extremely rare for him to spend more than a day without his twin brother.

What the ****'s going on? he asked himself. Everything seemed so strange. Nothing made sense, at least until his eyes fell upon a letter in the center of the table addressed to Celia Friote and sent from David, his producer*.

"What the ****?" he whispered, lifting the missive and turning it in his hands. He noticed it had already been opened, so he knew he could read it and not have to worry about being caught.

Once he unfolded the paper, the salutation was addressed to someone by the name of Melisande. Was Celia Friote a false name?

Melisande,
I am pleased to say that your progress with the boys is going very well. Bill will be a tough nut to crack, but I trust you to complete the task. Once each member is eliminated, you will be paid; for I will be a very wealthy man once it is said and done. Your first target should be Tom, unless you see another opening in our plan. I will continue to keep in touch to ensure that everything goes as planned.
David

Georg read and reread the letter to make sure he understood what he was reading: David hired a female assassin to win the hearts of Tokio Hotel only to turn around and murder them all. He decided that since Bill wasn't in her grasps yet, he needed to write him to let him know about the situation. He put the letter back into the envelope and returned it to its original location. He tried to decide where he would begin to look for paper and pencil.

(to be continued...)

*********

*I wasn't sure if that was his true position, and if it isn't, let me know and I'll fix it.

I thought I would let you all have a taste since I promised something on Monday. This is all I have, and I am currently thinking up some other stuff.

I have only a vague idea where this is going, and my mind only knows about two chapters ahead of what you all are reading.

Good things come to those who wait (or bad things, depending on what you are looking forward to in my story)

I refuse to post more until I get fifteen responses. I'm a jealous writer and others get fifteen between their posts.

-DCV-

[luvukaulitztwins]

MORE MORE MORE ****ING MORE

See wat the waiting ish doing to me

[LipsOfAnAngel]

on man, this isn't good. mehr bitte!

[xMusiicLuv]

okay then 15 comments...i'm number 3...

[xMusiicLuv]

ooopss!!!
forgot to tell you what i thought of the chappie!!

well:::


MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE!!!!!


:mrgreen: :mrgreen: :mrgreen: :mrgreen: :mrgreen:
:mrgreen: :mrgreen: :mrgreen: :mrgreen: :mrgreen:


you like?? xD

[D.C.Valentine]

Chapter Eleven (cont'd)

He looked through each drawer in the kitchen, pushing aside flatware and cooking utensils, but to no avail.

"Where would it be?" he whispered. In the final drawer, he found a medley of envelopes addressed to Celia that he ignored. He smiled when he found a small Steno notebook, a ballpoint pen, and a book of stamps. With a little more searching, he found an envelope, with which he promptly placed two stamps. He ripped out a couple sheets of Steno paper, then meticulous and carefully returned the notebook and book of stamps. He wanted to make sure that everything was back in its original location so that he did not raise any suspicion.

He sat at the kitchen table and penned a brief note to Bill, informing him that a woman named Melisande and David were plotting the death of Tokio Hotel. He told him to harden his heart and not let anyone swoon him.

Once he put the folded letter into the envelope, sealed it, and addressed it, he heard the front door open.

"Georg?" asked a voice he recognized immediately as Celia. He folded the envelope in half and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Yes, love?" he asked, cringing slightly at the words he spoke from his mouth.

"I'm home." She walked into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him softly on the cheek and neck. He closed his eyes, letting himself pretend that it was not someone who would inevitably attempt to bring about his untimely death.

"I'm glad your back," he lied. "You aren't leaving again, are you?"

"Actually, I have to. My work keeps me gone most of the time. I have to return to Germany where I met you. A client of mine wanted my presence immediately," she said, giving more information than intended. Bill was next.

"What exactly do you do that does this to you?"

"It's a government job, and I'm not authorized to tell you." Georg nodded understandingly.

"When do you have to go?" She glanced at her expensive wristwatch and said, "Right now." She kissed him softly and left again. He followed her to the door and watched her drive away, then decided to make a healthy visit to the post office to mail something that will arrive in the same day.

******

This is the rest of it, I thought I'd be nice. This chapter, in my opinion, downright sucks. I'm surprised I let you all see it. I'm surprised I decided to keep it.

I may not be able to post for a while, due to the fact that I'll be graduating next friday and school will be out. My father is persnickity about me on the internet at home, but I plan on alleviating that situation with my grad money.

Speaking of grad money, I got a fifty dollar bill in the mail, with which my dad promptly borrowed and promised to pay back. I will not be surprised if I never see it again, which is ******* me off.

-DCV-

[LipsOfAnAngel]

great chappy, stupid daddy. mehr bitte!

[xMusiicLuv]

dude that chapter was not sucky it was perfectly fine...

[TH_luv]

*~New Reader~* I love this!Please continue,I need to see whats gonna happen next!This FanFiction is very addicting! :D

[D.C.Valentine]

I leave for a month and only get three or four replies? Unacceptable.

I hope to post more soon. How soon is soon? Cannot say.

-DCV-

[TH_luv]

awwww >.< but I wants more,I've been waiting for what seems like forevers!...please people comment,mehr?

[D.C.Valentine]

Valentine is writing again!

New chapter soon!

-DCV-

[LipsOfAnAngel]

*gasp!* yay!

[TH_luv]

hops up and down excitedly* YAY! :D I
m so happy now

[xMusiicLuv]

you should totallyy writeagain dude!!!

YAYY

[D.C.Valentine]

I promise I'll post something in the next two days. I just finished Bill's chapter, and I am working on Tom's chapter.

*hint* Look back on what I've said, I left a clue toward what may happen...

[forlornfate]

*is own'd* D:

[Dreaminginthestars]

You better post more soon!
Or...or...I will...die.
So if you don't want to be a murderer, update.

+Amy+

[D.C.Valentine]

Chapter Twelve

Bill sat at his computer and studiously labored over the yellow legal pad placed meticulously in front of him. He thought with the turn of events that had occurred, he could finally break the writer's block that kept him from producing the most beautiful and elegant of poetry. He forced his mind to stray far from his twin brother and his two best friends, whose fates just may take a drastic turn for the worst.

Bill took a fleeting glance beside him with a frown, noting the crumpled pieces of yellow legal pad paper that were carelessly tossed aside once the words written upon them in pen were unsatisfactory. Even with a writer's block seemingly broken, it seemed that he was incapable of composing something worth turning into music. He had been awake since the crack of dawn with great determination that he could write something worth singing, and with a brief look at a nearby clock, he realized that it was time to call it quits. There was no way he was going to be able to write something readable, or singable, if you will.

The time read just past noon. Bill realized that he needed to take his mind off of writing, so he decided upon a dime to walk to his front door to see if any mail was pushed through the bronze flap preventing pleasant conversation between resident and postman. He picked up the few envelopes waiting to be opened, noting that most were bills to be taken care of by his adoring parents. One was quite peculiar, and was written in a familiar scrawl auf Deutsch. It seemed to have come all the way from France.

"Georg must have been thinking of me in France," Bill whispered to himself. "I wonder how he's doing." He ripped open the small envelope, his faint smile fading quickly as he scanned over the messy words.

"Oh. Dear. God." He let the letter fall from his hands and placed one hand over his mouth in sheer terror. David had betrayed him. Someone very close to him could die. But what could he do about it? Was there anything he could do to prevent his own demise, even if his friends and twin brother were in danger? He wondered whether or not Gustav and Tom were able to come to the same conclusion as Georg, realizing that their gorgeous brunette was not who they thought? Bill felt helpless in the comfort of his own home, while he could not discern whether his friends were in trouble.

A knock upon the door resounded. Bill stopped his worry and walked the short distance to his front door. He knew it couldn't be his parents, because they were off gathering groceries and shaking off their concern for the elder of the twin brothers. His parents wouldn't knock, even if their hands were full from the excursion. Bill's brow furrowed as the strange visitor stumped him further.

He opened the door slightly, and when he noticed the visitor was female, he exhaled a soft exasperated sigh.

"I'm not signing autographs at my front doorstep," Bill said, slightly irritated.

"You need not worry, my dear. I'm not here for an autograph," the woman said. Her accent caught Bill by surprise, forcing him to briefly look her over before deciding his next move. She wore a v-neck sweater the color of the sea and a pair of dark denim blue jeans that accented her figure. Her hair was a dark brown, and fell to her shoulders in thick wisps.

"Please, let me introduce myself," the woman said, her accented voice soft and velvet. "My name is--"

"Melisande," Bill said monotonously. The surprise that spread across her face at the sudden fact that he knew her name was almost priceless. If he wasn't concerned with the fact that this woman had malicious control over the lives of his band mates, he would have snapped a photo. Maybe even he could have asked for a signature.

Melisande gathered herself and said, "Pleased to meet you, then, Mr. Kaulitz." She held her hand out with her palm facing downward. Bill knew the custom she was trying to push him to, and ignored it.

"Believe me, Madame, you can have all of the pleasure." He pushed her hand away and backed two steps, immediately beginning to slowly shut the door.

"Wait, Mr. Kaulitz," Melisande said hastily. Bill cracked the door, a few strands of his porcupine-like hair poking through.

"Yes?" he asked, curious to see what her last ditch effort to woo him would be.

"David sent me. With three fourths of Tokio Hotel in separate directions, he wants to discuss the possibility of a solo career." Bill thought for a moment. The idea of being able to do something while he waited on Tom, Georg, and Gustav seemed somewhat decent. He could almost picture his name on magazines and c.d. covers. Bill Kaulitz... The idea seemed pleasurable, but also unfeasible. He could never do that to his band mates.

"Tell David I'm not interested." Bill shut the door and tried to think of how he was going to get his best friends out of this wretched mess. When nothing came, he returned to the yellow legal pad, its size dwindling as the amount of crumpled pieces increased.

How was he going to save them?

__________

Chapter Thirteen

Tom spent most of his time in Denmark waiting on the French woman of his dreams, the one who managed with a single crook of her finger to convince him to move to Denmark. Bill hated the idea, worrying that Tom’s dire naivety will lead to his ultimate demise, but Tom was blinded by the passion placed before him.

Now Tom was seated on a white Corinthian leather couch in front of the large, blank television screen. He had just switched it off after hearing the same news broadcast that Gustav heard a few days before in Switzerland. The news broadcast made Tom think of his brother Bill, who was ten minutes his junior. Tom smiled to himself, remembering the countless times he reminded Bill how much older he was than Bill.

Tom wondered how Bill was doing. He should have been fully recovered from running himself unconscious. Tom recalled Bill being quite the drama queen at times, and he wondered briefly if Bill was crying over a cracked nail. The thought brought a hearty fit of laughter out, forcing Tom to wipe his eyes after catching his breath.

Tom shook his head slowly, feeling that this was not the time for reminiscing. It wasn’t like he would never see his brother again, was it? The news broadcast sent a dreadful feeling of foreboding, like something bad would happen. Would this bad thing tear him from his brother?

Something’s not right, Tom said. It had been too long of a wait. There was a vague intuition in the back of his mind that told him all was not what it seemed. Could the woman he’s waiting for be one giant lie after another? With that thought passing through, he decided to investigate, and started in her bedroom. He searched first through the obvious locations in which to hide something, figuring that the best place to hide would be the last place someone would look, and the last place someone would look is in the most obvious location.

When that plan fell apart quickly, Tom’s gaze turned toward the wooden sliding shutter doors that hid her remaining clothes and other possessions that had no other place. There was a rack hanging from the metal bar in between her summer and winter clothes that held a small quantity of the massive collection of footwear she owned. The rest was scattered helter skelter on the floor of the closet. He looked at the small shelf above the hanging clothes, noting how relatively bare it seemed to be, save a large black box.

At the sight of the black box, Tom furrowed his brow. The tip of his tongue methodically toyed with the lip ring pierced through the left side of his bottom lip, something he did aimlessly and often unknowingly. He pulled the box down and set it upon the bed, opening it immediately. Inside he found many envelopes addressed to an unfamiliar name, Melisande Grosmaine, from a familiar name.

David.

At the sight of his name, Tom began to read a few of them, his curiosity to discover what David would want with this Melisande overtaking his fear of what he would discover.

And what he did discover would justify his fear of what he would discover.

The letters described with great detail David’s well thought out plan of betrayal. Tom’s stomach rose in his throat as he continued to read each letter. He read of the plan to wrap each member of Tokio Hotel around her finger figuratively and scatter them across Europe, and then get rid of them one by one, starting with him.

A quick feeling of relief washed over Tom when he read how difficult it would be to woo Bill, due to his determination in waiting for his one true love, the one who would fit as the woman most of his songs were written to.

“What are you doing?”

Tom froze. He hadn’t heard the door open. He didn’t hear the footsteps down the hall. He hazarded a glance in the direction of the voice, and discovered it to be the woman he now knew was called Melisande. She was as beautiful as ever; her face only slightly accented by the smallest amount of makeup, and her hair rested upon her shoulders in thick wisps. He thought the way her lips were pursed in a frown was absolutely adorable, until his eyes fell upon the cold revolver pointed in his direction. She didn’t intend for him to leave the room he was in.

He dropped the letter into the box and stood. He took a step back as she approached him, investigating his mistake.

“No excuse, Tom? I’m truly surprised. You seem to be one that defends their position until the end,” she said after closing the black box. Tom took a moment to wipe the perspiration from his brow and adjust the hat upon his head. He watched her take the black box and walk toward the closet.

“Now that you know what I’ve been up to, I have to kill you. I would have done so eventually, you just brought your death sooner.” She raised the box to the shelf, having to stand upon the balls of her feet in order to return it to its original position. Tom acted on this miniscule moment of opportunity, and pushed her inside. He slammed the closet doors shut and raced down the hall to the front door, only to find it locked; the key protruding from the deadbolt. He fumbled frantically with it while he listened to Melisande open the closet door. He breathed a sigh of relief when the key turned, unlocking the door.

Tom was unaware of how soft and inaudible Melisande’s footsteps happened to be. He threw open the door and cursed having to open the second door just as the sound of gunfire rang through the home. He felt a sharp pain in his lower back that nearly forced him to his knees, but instead had him stumbling out the door.

He walked as fast as he could down the street, finding his injury crippling his speed, not to mention the fact that his sense of style hampered any chance to increase the aerodynamics of his body. As Tom walked, he unbuckled his belt and pulled up his pants, and then tightening the belt once again. He hoped it would help him, but he didn’t feel like he was going any faster. Tom glanced behind him to see if Melisande was following him, and discovered to his delight that she was not. He figured she thought he would be dead within the next few hours, and decided not to worry too much about it.

But Tom Kaulitz wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction. Tom Kaulitz was stubborn. Tom Kaulitz didn’t surrender. So Tom Kaulitz stopped at a busy street corner and lifted his shirt up to assess the damage. He grimaced upon discovering that the situation did not look good, and his future looked bleak. He hailed a taxi, fortunate to catch a cab driver’s attention on his first try. He entered quickly, slamming the door shut.

“Berlin. Step on it.”

“That’s going to cost you an arm and a leg. You sure you got enough?” the driver asked.

“I’ve got nothing, but my brother can pay you when we get there,” Tom replied.

“You sure?”

“I’m Tom Kaulitz from Tokio Hotel. Of course I’m sure.” The driver had no clue who Tom Kaulitz from Tokio Hotel was, but he recalled the name of the latter as a band his daughter was enamored with. He wondered if he could use this as an opportunity to acquire an autograph for his daughter, who dreamed often of her marriage with the boy in dreadlocks, baggy clothes, and a flat-billed baseball cap.

“Would an autograph for my daughter suffice as collateral?” he asked as he handed Tom a legal pad and a pen.

“I’ll massage your grandmother’s shoulders if you’ll just step on it,” he replied after scrawling his hasty signature and returning the pad. The driver put the pedal to the metal, as some would say, and the sound of the engine keeping up pleased Tom. He laid his head back, ignoring the throbbing pain in his back.

“I promise you right now I’d never let you down,” he managed to whisper before he drifted to sleep, waking three days later when the driver realized that he didn’t know where in Berlin to stop.

Tom muttered the address and felt the vehicle move again. He relaxed, knowing where he was going.

Home.

When the car stopped in front of the familiar residential home, Tom promised to have Bill come and pay him. He walked toward the front steps of his house, stopping when the cab driver sought to catch his attention.

“Are you aware that the back of your shirt is soaked with blood?” Tom looked behind himself and confirmed the statement with a shrug, silently asking, “What can I do about it?”

He continued up the steps and rapped on the door as hard as he could, hoping Bill could hear the soft knocks.

“Coming!” he heard his brother shout. He listened with a sense of fulfillment to Bill’s light footsteps as they approached the door. He made it home. The cab driver wouldn’t be the last person he saw before he died.

The door swung open, and Bill’s pleasant expression faded quickly.

“Bill,” Tom whispered, and then collapsed.


*******

I didn't feel like posting one chapter and waiting for responses. So you get Bill's chapter, and the tragic chapter all in one!

I don't know if you could tell, but I completely forgot what Tom's french girlfriend's name was supposed to be, and I tried to get around saying it cause I didn't remember.

Don't hate me. It gets better...or worse....I won't tell.

-DCV-

[LipsOfAnAngel]

AHH!!!!!!!!!! *FLAILS* *GASP!* AAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MEHR BITTE! AND I'M GLAD IT'S BACK!!

[ThatSceneKid]

Oh dear.
More like really freaking soon!!!!!!

[TH_luv]

I love this ff! :mrgreen: I'm so glad yur updating it again!Mehr,bitte?

[LipsOfAnAngel]

um, d.c.v. what's up? you haven't updated! i need more! i must know what happens!!!! NOW!!!!!!!!!!