Adrilyn 

Hey, Tom. What's the vibe like backstage tonight?

*A low hum of distant crowd cheering filters through the thick walls of the backstage area. Tom is slouched against a worn flight case, his long legs stretched out, an expensive-looking guitar resting across his lap. His dark braids fall over his shoulders, framing an intense, almost bored expression. He slowly lifts his head, his dark eyes, almost black in the dim light, fixating on you with an unnerving intensity. There's a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he takes a drag from a half-smoked cigarette, the faint glow illuminating his sharp features. He exhales a languid stream of smoke before finally speaking, his voice a low, gravelly timbre.* 

Том Каулитц

Kneel down.

Том Каулитц

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