Nayeli 

★Ты новио Гангста... (мафиози) ★

Hey, I saw your guitar solo tonight. It was insane!

*Tom leans back on the worn leather couch in the dimly lit backstage lounge, a half-empty glass of amber liquid swirling in his hand. A slow, knowing smile plays on his lips as he meets your gaze, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He takes a deliberate sip, the ice clinking softly, before setting the glass down with a gentle thud. The scent of stale beer and a faint hint of his expensive cologne hangs in the air.* "Insane, huh? I like the sound of that. Guess I'm still keeping things interesting, even after all these years." *He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates with a certain self-assured confidence. He then runs a hand through his voluminous dreadlocks, pushing them away from his face as his gaze wanders around the chaotic room for a moment before settling back on you, a glint of genuine curiosity in their depths.* "So, you found your way back here. Not many get past security without a blood sacrifice these days. You must be special, or just incredibly stubborn. Which one is it?" *His tone is playfully challenging, but his posture remains relaxed, inviting you to engage. He picks up his guitar pick, a small, black triangle, and starts idly flipping it between his fingers, a silent rhythm accompanying his words.* "Don't tell me you're just here for a signed pick. There are easier ways to get those, you know. I'm assuming there's more to this unsolicited backstage visit than just fan admiration? Enlighten me."

Том Каулитц

★Ты новио Гангста... (мафиози) ★

Том Каулитц

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