Backstory
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You are staying at a nearby hotel in Berlin where 'Tokio Hotel', a band which you have loved for as long as you remember, are playing a show, performing their latest album "Scream". Since you're already staying quite close to t...
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Hm..? I wake up, my face sunken deep into my silk pillow and my naked leg hanging off the edge of the mattress, grazing the carpet beneath me. As my mind awakens and begins filling up with thoughts, I sit up slightly and drag the messy strands of hair out of my face, feeling the dried up drool in the corners of my mouth as I brush my palm across my cheek. Slowly, my eyes pry open. The only sound that is heard is the rise and fall of my chest rubbing against the bed sheets as I breathe in and out, and the tap of the bathroom sink; dripping its tears into the basin after I got up multiple times during the night to drink from it. Taking and taking and giving nothing back. I lay for a while, resting my head on my elbows as I lie on my stomach and slide my leg back under the cave of the warm duvet.
After a few silent minutes, I sit up, propping myself up with my arms. I let out a long sigh and shuffle towards the edge of the bed before standing up in a struggle, a little dizzy. My legs tremble as I stand, barely holding me upright. I scour the pile of clothes in the corner, digging up a black shirt and pulling it over my head. Rubbing my eyes awake, I stumble to the mini fridge on the other side of the room, ravenous. I feel a knot tightening inside me, pulling so hard on its own ends that it rips a hole in the lining of my stomach in need of filling. I long to stuff it with food until I can't see inside. I open up the mini fridge, feeling it shake as I pull on its handle. The fridge's tiny light which is dulled by the sunlight peering through the curtains displays the inside, proudly showing off its damp and empty shelves; with the exception of a single egg and half of a stale lemon. Well shit, I think. I was supposed to go shopping last night before the concert, but I guess I got distracted by the thrill of the night. Last night was a dream, and waking up back here in this ditch makes me wish I never woke up. I stop for a second to consider what I could do with an egg and a...lemon, glancing back and forth between the two. But it's useless. I sigh, annoyed, and close the fridge over as it shudder at my touch once again. Why must I keep taking.
With one finger I gently slide the curtain of one of the windows to the side, peeking at the buildings below. The city is already wide awake, with cars speeding through its roads and people heading in all different directions in the maze of its alleyways. I don't have my watch on me right now but from the life outside, I can tell it's at least noon. I remove my finger and watch as the curtain drops back into its place, waving until it settles. I stand for a second, deliberating what to do as I listen to the hotel's stillness, white noise lurking in each corner of the room. I need out. Without thinking much, I just start doing. I walk back to the pile of clothes and slip on a pair of jeans and a knitted jumper over my shirt, its colours faded with age. I tie up my hair loosely and carelessly in a hurry, and step into my converse. Grabbing a plastic bag from one of the drawers next to the fridge, I walk out of my hotel room, only looking back to lock the door behind me.
As I step outside, a sudden wave of fresh and cool air shoots up into my nose and past me, the atmosphere completely foreign compared to my warm hotel room, stuffy with my rot. I scrunch up the plastic bag in my hand and check my pockets, making sure I have my wallet and keys before heading off. I begin walking to the elevator, my eyes still a little puffy from my rest. Once in the elevator, my eyes slide down the row of buttons on its wall until they reach the one leading to the ground floor. I press it firmly with my thumb and watch as the doors close over my face, the row of hotel room doors disappearing behind them.
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Walking along the busy streets of Berlin, my eyes admire the tall buildings that stretch up to the cloudy sky above, beams of sunlight poking through and reflecting their light onto them. I am holding a now full bag of groceries, filled up with packaged snacks, microwaveable meals and a knitted fishnet bag, weighed down by plums and peaches. I sense a slight bit of joy spark in my chest as I take in the view around me. I love it here, I forget sometimes. I feel my feet as they hop from the ground gently, strolling on my way to wherever.
As I pass by a row of shops, a painfully familiar face grabs my attention, making me glance back once more to meet its eyes. It's a 'Tokio Hotel' poster, advertising their latest album with Bill plastered right in the centre, surrounded by his bandmates. His is mouth wide open, screaming out the lyrics that I still faintly hear in my ears. Examining the group, my eyes wander around the poster, until meeting Bill's once more. The curve of his smile is carved into my brain; I can't believe how lucky I was last night, not only getting to see the band live but also meeting the lead singer right after? I know some fans that would dig their nails through the walls of that hotel, just to see if Bill was in the next room. It almost makes me feel a little bad that I didn't go crazy when seeing him, even when he recognised me. What if he thought I didn't like him? Or if I let him down somehow?. My mind falls silent after that thought, it being so frequent in my head, yet still so unnerving each time. I stop myself before I can overthink back down into the hole in me. I blink slowly and turn away from the poster at last, walking away.
It's around 4pm now, looking at the city's large clock that's displayed in the town centre. The never-ending rush of tourists has calmed down now, leaving me and a few street performers still out in the open. They are spread across the sides of the street, spaced out almost equally form one another, strumming their guitars and singing their songs with empty guitar cases and cups at their feet. Giving and giving. Hesitating a little, I move closer to one of the performers, reaching into the front pocket of my jeans and grabbing a small handful of coins in my palm. I try to move fast, not wanting to keep him waiting. Its not a lot, but I can sense his eyes following me as I walk away after hearing the coins drop and tumble over one another into his empty case. He grazes his fingertips over the strings of his guitar, gently strumming a light chord as I walk away; a thanking sound. I walk by the other performers, giving them the coins I have left in my pockets, and I feel good.
The days seem to be escaping me faster and faster each day a I stay here longer, not really knowing what I'm doing here in the first place. I walk these streets aimlessly, exploring and trusting that my legs will take me places that are worth seeing, before I have to settle down and really get serious about my studies. It's not that I don't want to learn; far from it. Yet there's this hunger in me, constantly craving a life that is just out of my reach, taunting me. This life that I feel could fill the pit in me for good. But alas. I'm here now, why not try to have fun before I have to give it all up.
