Tom was in the label’s main lounge — waiting for a quick meeting, flipping through channels on the mounted TV.
And then, through the speakers…
> “They don’t know what we said…”
He froze.
The same melody.
The same phrasing.
But not Isadora’s voice.
His heart jumped into his throat.
> “Yo, what is this?” he asked the assistant at the desk.
> “New demo from a solo artist they’re scouting. No official name yet — just got it in yesterday,” she shrugged.
Tom stood up fast.
> “Can I hear the whole thing?”
> “Can’t. Label locked it for internal playbacks only. Not cleared.”
But it was their song. Re-recorded. Polished. Slightly changed. But still theirs.
---
He stormed down to the booth they used — the one where he and Isadora had made the original demo.
The drive? Gone.
The computer? Wiped.
The lava lamp still bubbled peacefully, like nothing happened.
Tom clenched his fists.
> “No way someone just ‘found’ that.”
Isadora answered on the third ring.
She was mid-practice, bass in hand.
> “Hey—”
> “Someone re-recorded our song.”
Silence.
> “What?” she said flatly.
He explained everything. The lyrics. The voice. The melody. Their private session — replicated.
> “But the only people who knew were… us. Nina. And—”
They both paused.
> “The manager?” she whispered.
> “No. Nina wouldn’t say anything.”
> “I know. I just mean… someone else might’ve heard it.”
That night, they all met at Nina’s — Tom, Isadora, Bill, and Nina.
Laptop out. Headphones in.
Nina played the leaked version she “accidentally” downloaded from the label servers.
> “It’s not an exact copy,” Bill noted. “The structure is different. Like someone used the idea — but rewrote pieces.”
> “It’s still messed up,” Tom snapped.
> “It’s a ghostwriter situation,” Nina said. “Someone’s been peeking into the private folder. I can check who accessed it last.”
She began typing.
Isadora squeezed Tom’s hand.
> “No matter what happens… that song is ours.”
Nina finally looked up.
> “Got it.”
The name blinked on the screen.
Someone from the production crew.
•“He’s been floating around both our bands for weeks,” Nina said. “Always acting chill. Carrying coffees. Asking weird questions.”
Isadora’s eyes narrowed.
•“Then we go talk to him.”
YOU ARE READING
"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...
