prepare yourselves before you're just about to see how much of a marvelous editor I am
ALSO reminder of how good Tom looks in this part of the story.
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I slowly opened my eyes, squinting them immediately from the bright sun that was peaking through the curtains. Grumbling silently, I turn to my side, when an arm wraps itself around my waist. I whipped my head to the other side of my bed, and realize that it was just Tom. Falling back down on the bed, I sigh deeply and reach for my phone.
I start checking my mails and then switch to Instagram, posting a photo of me sleeping, a photo which Bill had taken after I had fallen down on the bed, exhausted from crying.
I chuckle at the post and turn my phone off, turning back around towards Tom. I see him with his eyes open and I jolt, surprised. "You creep...have you been watching?" I joked, caressing his cheek laughingly. "You have an amazing back, so it's the least I can do," He compliments, lifting his tattooed hand and caressing my back, making shivers appear on the top of my skin.
"I missed you." I murmured, wrapping my hands around his naked chest and pressing my own naked chest against him. "Me too," He said softly, caressing my hair tenderly. I inhaled sharply through my nostrils, loving the scent of the honey lotion he had applied all over his body yesterday after our shower.
"Today's the interview at RTL plus, right? He asks, his voice slightly muffled by my hair. I nod against his chest, before rolling on my back, his hand still around my waist. I huff and cover my chest with the white covers. "Don't hide the goodies." He said, taking the covers off of my chest and kissing them. I laughed, covering my boobs with my forearm. "You're wearing boxers— so...I will not be showing my goodies when you're not." I said innocently, pushing his head off of my breasts and putting the covers back on them.
"Whatever, I'll see them again tonight." He says simply, sighing in a relaxed manner and getting out of bed. "You shouldn't be that confident buddy," I joked, sitting up and wrapping the white sheets around my upper body as I had my back pressed on the headboard. "How stupid can one be, to turn down sex with me?" He says coolly, pulling his Calvin Klein boxer's strap over his baseball shorts.
"Oh god.." I mumble, falling face flat on the bed in disappointment. I hear loud footsteps running towards me and before I even had time to acknowledging it, I feel two hands grab each sides of my waist, pulling me up and without a single sound of struggle, Tom lifted me over his shoulders and just put me there, his head between my thighs. "Oh my god, put me down!" I yell anxiously, trying my hardest to balance myself on his shoulders by holding on his head. Because of his tall height, I must've been 2m off the floor— maybe even more— making it even scarier.
"I won't ever let you fall." He says reassuringly, gripping my thighs tightly as to secure me on his shoulders. "Alright Captain, let me see you put my clothes on for me from down there." I challenged him, leaning over his head and kissing his nose. He looks up, his little brown buttons shining. "It is on." He says, walking over to my suitcase.
With his barefoot, he grabs a white shirt with his toes and slightly reaches down to grab it from his foot. Without a word, he shoves the crop top in my face, making me chuckle. "I need a bra," I comment, pointing to my underwear bag. I couldn't see his face but I just knew he rolled his eyes. His mouth letting out quiet sounds of struggle, he takes a random bra in my bag. Wanting to tease him even more by asking him to give me the matching bra to my panties, I decide to stay quiet and put on the blue mismatching bra.
For the bottoms this time, he took his time and gave me the shortest skirt in my luggage. I laugh at his usual dirty manner and snatch the denim skirt from his hand. "Alright, put me down now." I order and he follows, carefully pulling me down on the floor. I slip the skirt on and walk to the bathroom to do my makeup. As I walk past him, It wasn't even a surprise to me that he slapped my butt.
Tom and I walked down the hallway on our way to the recording room, hand in hand. As we stood before the filming set, they wired us up, put microphones on our shirts and lead us onto the platform where the radio host was waiting for us. We smile politely, walking to our assigned seats. "Hi!" I smiled, rolling my office chair around and putting the thick head phones on my head. "This is amazing! I haven't been to a radio station since 06'!" I laughed, admiring the microphone and electronics around.
"It has definitely changed since then for sure. His are you two?" The man asked politely while checking and switching buttons on his keyboard. I looked at Tom, who looked happy and excited to be here. I smiled at him and turned back to the host. "We're good. Tom is visiting me for a couple of days. My world tour is going really well so I couldn't be happier!" I exclaimed happily. I felt Tom put his hand on my thigh.
"Oh...right. You're on tour at the moment. By the way, I've seen your costumes, they all look amazing,who's the designer?" He asks curiously, leaning on the table to be closer.
"My trust-worthy Anja Gockel. I've been with her ever since my debut in Tokio Hotel. She's absolutely amazing." I say happily, smilling at the politeness of his compliment. "Alright, everyone." We hear in the megaphone from the director behind the sound proof glass. "You'll see when we're on air when the light turns green." He informed us, pointing to a led light that read "On air" In red— I supposed it would turn green when we would start.
We all nodded and waited patiently for the director to finish the last set ups to start the interview. As I eyed the neon light, it finally turned green. "Hello everyone and welcome to RTL plus. This morning, we're here with the incredible couple: Tom Kaulitz and Stella Klein." The man said in his mic, smiling up at me. I nod and take the mic. "Hi!" I giggled, loving the sound of my clear voice in my huge headphones— resembling the ones we use to record music.
"Hi," Tom worded, falling back in his seat, his hand still positioned on my thigh. "How are you two? Oh and, Stella. Should I be calling you Kaulitz? Or is it not official yet?" The radio host asked me, leaning on the table and looking at me, waiting for my response. Holding the mic in my hand and closer to my mouth, I look at Tom smilingly before replying. Tom, suddenly interested in the conversation, stands straight in his chair, staring at me impatiently for my response. "Well...the wedding is not till next year so I guess I'm still Stella Klein. But you may still call me Kaulitz from time to time. It'll help me get used to it!" I joked, taking Tom's hand that was positioned on my thigh and putting it on the table, holding it in mine— in the eyes of all the staff. He smiles, scooting closer to me.
"You guys look radiant. I'm glad Tom finally settled down. Tom, how is it now, only being able to love one girl?" The interviewer asked, turning his attention solely to Tom. I leaned on the palm of my hand and turned my head to the side to look at the boy. Almost, I would say, anxiously, he swallowed a lump in his throat: his adam apple bopping up and down.
"I've never loved many girls at once. It was different— back then. I didn't love the girls I slept with— just found them attractive." He explained simply, taking me by surprise by his cruel honesty, a heavy weight sinking my chest. I look at him in disbelief, and discreetly remove my hand from his on the table— but keeping my calm and staying silent as to not create drama for the media. "But..now I only love one girl, my Stell." Tom notices my change of demeanor and cleared his throat— to maybe save what he had said.
"Now, Stella— there's a rumor going around that you will be walking the Victoria secret runway on Halloween night! Is it true?" He asks, and in my head I slightly panicked, as Tom was not aware of it yet. I ignore Tom's widened eyes and scoot my chair closer to the table so my eyes don't catch Tom's.
"Uh...yes." I chuckle nervously "That's the plan." I echoed, anxiously scratching my temple. "Any hints on the outfit?" He insists on the matter. I give him a tight smile, scratching my cheek. "Well.." I start, trying my hardest to find an excuse to stop talking about the situation in order for me to have time later to explain myself to Tom.
"They haven't give me permission to say anything. Stay tuned!" I exclaimed in a fake joyful tone, tapping my fingers on the table praying that the host would switch subjects.
Then, the interviewer asks the worst question that he could've possibly asked. As the words left his mouth and entered my ears, I wanted to slap him in the face. "Tom you seem very quiet. How do you feel about your girlfriend's appearance on the Victoria Secret show?"
I turn to Tom and widen my eyes at him in regret. He smiles tightly— a fake and insincere smile: his lips turned up just slightly— his eyes not responding to the action. I hoped he would be happy— but seeing his reaction, he didn't seem so. "My girlfriend will walk down the one and only Victoria Secret show. Could I be any happier? Besides, Bill is going to loose his mind given his obsession with fashion." He says, his voice nor excited or happy. I bite my lip and turn back to the host, smiling at him to cover up whatever had just happened.
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Tom and I exited the radio station after saying our goodbyes and signing a couple of autographs of people that were camping outfit the facility. We walked side by side in complete silence as we approached the car. I stand by my side of the car and wait for him to pull his car keys out from his pocket. Once he does, he unlocked the vehicle and we both enter simultaneously.
He starts the engine, not a single word having left his mouth.
I'm not the one being inconsiderate, right?
Tapping my legs up and down on the soft black carpet of the Volkswagen, I lean my head back against the headrest and wait for him to say something. "That day was supposed to be the day we'd celebrate our birthday." He says finally. I tilt my head to watch him and sigh. "I know Tom. I just..I thought you would be happy for me! It's a huge thing." I exclaim, rotating my body completely to face him, my back against the door.
"Is it too much to ask for? To celebrate my birthday with my future wife? With my brother? Even if it's two whole months later, I'm willing to wait!" He says disappointed, his driving getting messier and messier by the second. I hold onto the armrest. "But you, you choose the one day that we chose for the celebration of our birthday to walk a stupid runway— when you're not even a model!" He added heatedly, slapping his hands on the wheel.
I chuckle sarcastically at his words. "A stupid runway? You think I chose the fucking date? You think I wanted to miss our birthday?" I repeated sarcastically. Feeling my heart rate rising at a terrifying pace, I take a deep breath. "You're right— I'm not a model, Tom. I'm very far from being a model! I'm short, I don't have tiny thighs, or a long torso— or perky boobs! Or long, gracious hair— but guess what— they invited me!" I explained to him, feeling the angry tears starting to form in my eyes and I sniffle to keep them in.
"I thought you would be a good boyfriend and support my decisions, my prowesses." I added on, feeling relieved as I saw the hotel in front of me meaning we wouldn't be arguing in the car dangerously. We pull in at the hotel underground parking. "But, you are selfish Tom. There, I said it! You're never happy for me!" I avowed angrily, my eyebrows furrowed tightly.
"Because you're ever happy for me? You never care about anything that has to do with me. You haven't listened to any my demos with those DJ's in LA, you haven't listened to our latest album— nothing." He said— he dared to say. I gasp, a laugh unintentionally escaping from my mouth once again. "You are delusional, Tom. I care about you more than anyone on this mother fucking planet. I've been with you since the beginning. I've watched you cry— laugh— puke— I know you like the back of my palm. I have supported everything that you've done— experimented." I listed, wanting him to hear every single thing I had bottled up in my head.
At that moment, the words that left his mouth burned like acid in my ears, burning the tips and leaving a hot sensation on them. "Maybe we're not meant to be." He breathed. I stare blankly at him, my brain dead, my eyebrows furrowed and my mouth slightly hung open. "What?"
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AN:
Don't hate me! This is just how the cookie crumbles :(((
FYI: This story will be about 25 parts, maybe more, maybe less— we'll see. Stay tuned for updates! Love you,
S