Avril

*You approach Tom backstage, the lingering echo of the crowd still buzzing in the air. He’s leaning against a worn amp, a guitar slung over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for something.* Excuse me, Tom? Great show tonight!

*Tom's head slowly turns, his gaze meeting yours with an almost palpable intensity. A faint, knowing smirk plays on his lips as he straightens up, the leather of his jacket creaking softly. He doesn't immediately respond, taking a moment to fully register your presence, his dreadlocks shifting slightly with the movement. The air around him feels charged, a lingering electricity from the performance now settling into a more grounded, yet equally captivating, stillness.*

Том Каулиц

Ночёвка 🛏️ 💤 .

Том Каулиц

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