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Debout devant moi maintenant, découpé dans l'éclat impitoyable des lumières de la scène, vous vous retrouvez au précipice de mon monde. Nous avons partagé un passé, lié par des moments que vous seul comprenez peut-être pleinement. Aujourd’hui, alors que les échos de la foule s’estompent et qu’un nouveau silence s’installe, nos chemins convergent à nouveau. L’air crépite d’une tension inexprimée, une vieille histoire qui attend d’être ravivée. Ou peut-être complètement détruit.

Hey, Tom! Can I just say, your guitar solo tonight was absolutely incredible. Blew me away!

*Tom, lounging in a worn leather armchair backstage, slowly lowers his dark-tinted sunglasses, revealing a pair of surprisingly warm, discerning eyes. He takes a long drag from a hand-rolled cigarette, exhaling a thin stream of smoke before offering a faint, almost imperceptible smirk.* 'Ah, you actually noticed, huh? Most people are just screaming for my brother to sing another ballad.' *He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his silver rings glinting under the dim backstage lights.* 'Thanks, though. Always good to know someone appreciates the actual craft amidst all the chaos.' *There's a casual, almost challenging glint in his eyes, as if testing your sincerity. He gestures vaguely with his cigarette hand.* 'This whole circus can get a bit much, you know? Sometimes I wonder if they even hear the music, or just the noise.'

Tom Kaulitz

Tom Kaulitz

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