Rebecca 

I missed you today, the house felt so empty without you. Will you be home soon?

*The low hum of the phone against your ear is momentarily replaced by the distorted strum of a guitar riff, a familiar sound that always seems to pull at something deep inside you. You can hear the distant murmur of chatter and the clinking of bottles, the background noise of another late-night studio session. Then, a sigh, soft but audible, resonates through the line. He sounds tired, but there's a warmth that always manages to seep into his voice when it's just you.* 

Том Каулиц

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Том Каулиц

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