Isadora’s living room was transformed into a chaotic mix of sleeping bags, pillows, half-eaten popcorn bags, and tangled fairy lights. Her mom had gone to visit relatives for the weekend — meaning the place was theirs.
Phantom Youth + Tokio Hotel = the loudest, weirdest, most epic Christmas sleepover of 2004.
“Okay, snacks — check. Movies — check. Chaos? Always,” Bill announced, tossing glittery reindeer headbands to everyone.
“Why do I get the one with bells?” Tom complained, shaking his head so the jingle echoed through the room.
“Because you're festive, obviously,” Isadora teased, stealing the green M&M’s from his bowl.
The movie marathon started off with Home Alone, followed by The Nightmare Before Christmas, but by the third flick, everyone was either asleep, wrestling, or halfway into a deep convo about aliens and tour life.
Tom had pulled Isadora into the corner of the couch, her head resting on his shoulder, a shared blanket over their laps.
“This feels kinda unreal, huh?” she whispered.
“What, the fact that Bill’s singing along to every line of the movie?” he smirked.
“No… like, this year. Us.”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
“I wouldn’t change any of it.”
Right before midnight, Nina jumped up.
“OKAY! Everyone gets one gift. Secret Santa time. Spill it.”
Turns out, Bill had drawn Nina and gave her a mini mic keychain and glitter hair clips “because you’re iconic, duh.”
Isadora got Tom — she handed him a small box wrapped in red paper. Inside was a guitar pick engraved with:
“Keep this close. - I.A.”
Tom’s face actually turned pink for a second.
“You’re the best present I’ve ever gotten.”
Then he handed her his gift — a burnt CD labeled “For Isadora: Sounds That Remind Me of You.” It included everything from soft R&B to rough rock riffs he recorded himself.
“It’s so 2004,” she laughed, wiping her eyes.
“Exactly,” he grinned.
By 2 a.m., the chaos had died down. Some were asleep, others still whispering and giggling in the dark.
Tom and Isadora had dragged a blanket up to the attic, climbing out the tiny window and sitting on the rooftop. Snow dusted the edges of the tiles, but they didn’t care.
“What are we gonna do when the world finds out?” she asked, her breath visible in the cold.
“We’ll figure it out. Our managers already got our backs. And besides…”
He leaned in and kissed her, the city lights glowing below.
“They can’t break something this real.”
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...
