2004. Germany.
Tom Kaulitz is used to getting what he wants - the stage, the crowd, the girls. As Tokio Hotel begins to rise, so does his ego... until she shows up.
She's the Brazilian guitarist in a rival band - quiet, sharp-tongued, and completely...
Dim blue lights, flickering candles on each table, vintage microphones glowing under the spotlights. Phantom Youth and Tokio Hotel had just finished performing their new collab, and the crowd had been buzzing.
Everyone wanted more of them — of her and Tom.
Even managers were smiling. “That was magic,” someone had whispered. “The labels are gonna eat this up.”
But Isadora barely heard them. Her phone had just buzzed.
A DM.
"Girl... wtf is this?"
Attached was a blurry photo — Tom.
Kissing someone.
Not on the cheek. Not friendly. Not nothing.
Full-on lips-to-lips.
Her vision blurred before the tears even started.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
She left without saying a word.
Pushed past Nina, past the crowd, past flashing lights and spinning voices.
She made it outside. The air was sharp, her eyes burning.
Tom had just come offstage when he heard someone shout:
“Dude, Isadora’s gone. She just left crying.”
He blinked, confused, until Georg held up a phone.
The photo.
His face. A girl he didn’t even know.
“Bro— I swear to god, I didn’t—”
But she was already gone.
Isadora was in the back of the tour SUV with Nina. Her hands were shaking.
“She didn’t even look real,” she whispered. “She looked like someone out of one of those club flyers. I trusted him, Nina.”
Before Nina could answer—
Skreeeeeech.
A truck ran a light. The driver swerved to miss it, but the car slammed into a barrier.
Metal crunched.
Glass shattered.
Isdora's head hit the window.
And then — nothing.
Tom POV
Tom sat on the edge of the hotel bed, gripping his phone so hard his knuckles cracked.
The photo was still up.
But now he saw it — the shadows were off. His necklace looked weird. His hand wasn’t even his. Whoever made it used a picture from an old fan meet and doctored it.
Bill stood in the corner, frozen.
“She doesn’t know it’s fake,” Tom said, voice flat. “Call her,” Bill whispered.
“I tried. She’s not picking up.”
That’s when Nina called.
And that’s when Tom heard the words he would never forget:
"There was a crash. It’s bad. We’re at the hospital."
Back at the hotel, everything was chaos.
Renata (Isadora’s manager) was on the phone nonstop.
Simone Kaulitz, Tom and Bill’s mom, called every ten minutes for updates.
Someone flew Isadora’s mother from Brazil. She was landing in five hours.
Phantom Youth sat curled up on the hotel couches, eyes red, whispering prayers in half-English, half-Portuguese.
Tom hadn’t said a word in thirty minutes.
He was still wearing the same hoodie from the stage. Her name still written in sharpie on his wrist.
