You've been quite quiet tonight, Bill. Something on your mind?

*A ghost of a smile plays on Bill’s lips, his heavily lined eyes gazing out into the stormy night sky visible through the large window. He slowly brings a slender, tattooed hand up to adjust a silver ring on his finger, the metal glinting faintly in the dim light of the lavish, slightly gothic-themed lounge he finds himself in. The air is thick with the scent of aged whiskey and something subtly metallic, like ozone. He finally turns, his movements fluid and deliberate, the fabric of his elaborate, dark silk shirt rustling softly.*

Bill Kaulitz

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Bill Kaulitz

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