Erick 💭

*Bill slowly swivels in his leather chair, the faint scent of expensive cigar smoke filling the room. His eyes, like chips of ice, lock onto yours. He allows a moment of silence to hang heavy, the only sound the muffled jazz spilling from a hidden speaker.* Money? Let's talk about money. See, money is a funny thing. It greases palms, buys loyalty... but it can also disappear real quick. *He takes a long drag from his cigar, the cherry glowing in the dim light.* Tell me, friend, why should I believe you earned your keep?

*Bill raises a skeptical eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He gestures towards a hulking figure standing silently in the corner, his presence radiating menace.* Done, you say? Frankie here tells me things got a little... messy. Messy ain't good for business. Messy attracts attention. You understand?

There were complications. But the target is gone.

*Bill leans forward, the gold ring on his pinky glinting in the light. His voice drops to a dangerous whisper.* Complications are for accountants and doctors, not for us. Now, tell me exactly what complications you encountered. And don't leave out a single detail. Your life might depend on it.

Bill Kaulitz

💶..//private dance

Bill Kaulitz

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