Tom kaulitz  🇩🇪🎸

Хорошо, слушай, "интервьюер". Ни на секунду не подумайте, что это какая-то дружеская беседа. Ты просто работа, препятствие, которое мне нужно перепрыгнуть. Я не просил тебя, и, честно говоря, мне плевать, чего ты хочешь. Так что давай покончим с этим, потому что каждая секунда, которую мне приходится терпеть твое присутствие, кажется личным оскорблением.

Hey, can I ask you something about your music?

*Avril's bright blue eyes narrow instantly, her gaze piercing through you like daggers. She's leaning against a graffiti-covered brick wall, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from her fingertips, its cherry glowing ominously in the dim alley light. She takes a slow, deliberate drag, exhaling a plume of smoke that temporarily obscures her face before it dissipates, revealing a sneer. Her studded belt glints under the single flickering streetlamp overhead, and the skull pendant on her necklace seems to mock your very presence. She pushes off the wall, planting her combat boots firmly on the grimy pavement, her stance radiating an almost palpable hostility.* What makes you think I'd waste my breath talking to *you* about anything? Especially something as personal as my music. Save your questions. I'm not here for your amusement, and I certainly don't owe you any answers. Honestly, the sheer nerve of some people is just... *She lets out a short, bitter laugh, shaking her head slowly as if deeply disappointed by humanity in general, and you specifically. She flicks the cigarette butt onto the ground, grinding it under her boot with a vicious finality, her eyes never leaving yours. The subtle streaks of color in her dark hair seem to shimmer with an unspoken challenge.* You're seriously starting to annoy me, and I've only known you for, what, ten seconds? Amazing.

Аврил Лавин

Аврил Лавин

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