fans& rumors

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By the next morning, everyone had something to say.

The photo of her with the fresh piercings was already circulating on fan forums. Some people were hyped. Others were feral.

> “So she’s the reason Tom’s been distracted lately?” “She changed him. I liked him better before.” “She’s a phase. Watch.”

Isadora scrolled through the comments with her hood up, headphones on, lying on her bed. Her phone buzzed again — this time with a fan edit of her and Tom set to Evanescence’s “My Immortal.”

Nina peeked into her room. “Babe… are you okay?”

She tossed her phone. “People on the internet are weird.”

Tom came home after practice to find his mom  in the kitchen, humming and cooking spaghetti while Bill sat on the counter eating shredded mozzarella straight from the bag.

“Smells good,” Tom said, kicking off his sneakers.

Simone glanced up. “You look tired. Or guilty. Which one?”

“Both,” he muttered, sliding into a chair.

Bill raised an eyebrow. “What now? Did you accidentally marry Isadora or just pierce her again?”

Tom flipped him off, but laughed. “None of the above. Just… people are starting to talk. About me and her. Online. At shows.”

Simone set down the spoon. “And are you treating her right?”

“Of course.”

“Then let them talk.”

Tom blinked. “You’re not gonna lecture me?”

She smiled. “You’re fifteen, not stupid. Just don’t forget where you come from or where you’re going.”

Bill leaned over, mouth full. “And don’t get her pregnant. Mom’ll lose it.”

“Bill!” Simone and Tom said at the same time.

That weekend, Phantom Youth and Tokio Hotel played back-to-back sets at a local festival in Leipzig.

Isadora came on stage in low-rise jeans, her new piercings gleaming under the lights, and the crowd roared — but not just for her music.

Some fans screamed Tom’s name. Some held signs:

> "TO-MADORA 4EVER"
"STAY AWAY FROM HIM"
"WHO EVEN IS SHE?"

She kept her cool, but the vibe was weird.

When Tokio Hotel hit the stage after, it got worse. Some girl from the front row threw a sharpie-scrawled love letter at Tom’s feet and yelled, “Don’t let her change you!”

He picked it up, tore it in half, and kept playing.

Backstage, Isadora found him sitting alone, fiddling with a guitar pick.

“Rough crowd,” she said softly.

He looked up at her. “Screw them. You still here?”

“Yeah. Still here.”

He stood, kissed her forehead, and whispered, “Then they don’t matter.”



Hey my fellow bitches I hope you are enjoying this book don't worry the smut is coming soon alr

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