The studio looked like an early 2000s fever dream — smoky lighting, shattered TVs for props, tangled cords, and graffiti-painted backdrops. Wardrobe had gone full punk grunge: studded belts, layered mesh, low-slung jeans, chains, and enough eyeliner to fuel a Myspace page.
Isadora wore a black cropped tee with “NO RULES” in faded red, her midriff showing her now-healed bellybutton piercing and just a peek of the tattoo Tom gave her.
Tom rocked oversized jeans, a long graphic tee, his signature cap backwards, and yes — eyeliner. He looked too good, and Isadora was trying way too hard not to stare.
Their bands were scattered around set, prepping for their parts of “Bleed in Stereo.”
> “You two,” the director called, pointing at Tom and Isadora, “I want you front and center for the final chorus — your voices overlap. We need intensity. Don’t act like strangers.”
> Tom blinked. “What kind of intensity?”
> “Connection. Electricity. Like you’re feeling each other.”
Isadora nearly choked on her bottled water.
They stepped up to the mic, standing face-to-face in the middle of the darkened set. Cameras circled like hawks.
The song started.
> “We’re screaming in secret…”
Their voices blended so well, it made even Bill raise an eyebrow from offstage. But with each line, the tension between them grew.
Their eyes kept meeting.
The cameras kept rolling.
And Tom… leaned in just a little too close.
> “Perfect,” the director called out. “Real chemistry.”
Everyone clapped. Isadora smiled awkwardly. Tom gave her a subtle smirk as they walked off set, heart pounding.
> “You almost kissed me,” she hissed, cheeks flushed.
> “I wasn’t gonna. But you didn’t exactly back away either.”
> “We can’t get caught.”
> “I know.”
They passed a mirror backstage. Isadora paused, looking at her reflection.
> “You think they know?”
> “If they knew, they wouldn’t be cheering for it,” Tom said. “They’d be tearing it apart.”
He reached for her hand quickly — just for a second — then let go.
> “Just keep acting like you don’t love me,” he whispered with a smirk.
> “Don’t push your luck, Kaulitz,” she grinned.
BINABASA MO ANG
"Strings Between Us
Romance2004. 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...
