Tabloid Trouble

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Two days after her birthday, Isadora was flipping through burned CDs in her room, still wearing Tom’s oversized black hoodie — sleeves swallowed her hands, and his cologne still clung to the fabric.

Nina texted her a link with a 😳 emoji.

> “Uhh… dude, check this.”

It was a fan forum. Grainy photo. Blurry background. But clear enough:

Isadora Almeida. Hoodie. Tom Kaulitz’s hoodie.

The caption?

> “Tom’s new mystery girl? 👀 Hoodie twins or something more? 👁️💋🖤 #KaulitzKryptic #PhantomFlame”

> “Tom’s new mystery girl? 👀 Hoodie twins or something more? 👁️💋🖤 #KaulitzKryptic #PhantomFlame”

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Pretend that's she wearing his hoodie
Below it, comments were exploding:

“That’s DEFINITELY her. She’s in Phantom Youth.”

“Not even subtle. He’s been seen with her twice now.”

“Manager cover-up incoming in 3…2…1…”

Isadora’s stomach dropped.

She hadn’t posted the photo. Neither had Nina.
Only three people had taken photos that day: Nina, her mom… and someone on the street who might’ve lingered too long.

Her phone buzzed.

Tom:

> “You saw it?”

Isadora:

> “Yeah. This is bad, right?”

Tom:

> “Kinda. But like… we’ve survived worse. Wanna call?”

Isadora:

> “No, just… see you at rehearsal.”

Minutes later, her manager called.

> “Look, sweetheart. It’s not your fault, but we need to spin this — fast. Let us take care of the press. You? Stay chill. Don’t post. Don’t comment. Don’t even like a post about it.”

At rehearsal, the Phantom Youth squad was half-whisper, half-curious.

> “That hoodie looked sick though,” Nina said, nudging her. “Just saying.”

> “It’s not about the hoodie,” murmured Memphis, their drummer. “It’s about the attention.”

Meanwhile, in the hallway, Tom stood next to Bill, headphones around his neck.

> “Should I just say something?” he asked his twin.

> “No way. If you do, it’s all anyone talks about. Let it blow over,” Bill said. “Unless you wanna make it official…”

Tom didn’t answer. But the look in his eyes said everything.

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