SINNER| TOM KAULITZ

Chapter 8.

when the boys finally woke up, I had been awake for a few hours, I mean, someone had to clean up their mess from last night, and judging by their drunken state last night they would have too much of a hangover to deal with it, so I just did it this one time. 

With a resigned smile, I grabbed a trash bag and started cleaning up the aftermath of the boys' night of drinking and games. The early morning light streamed in through the windows, casting a warm glow on the scene. I chuckled as I picked up a few discarded socks and positioned a fallen cushion back in its place. It was clear that the night had been one of uninhibited fun, and the mess was a testament to the bonds that had deepened among us.

As the boys began to stir from their slumber, I could hear their groggy voices and muffled yawns. Georg's voice was the first to rise above the others, his tone slightly apprehensive. "Uh, did anything...bad happen last night?"

I couldn't help but laugh at his question, a smirk playing on my lips. "Well, if you count me having to cuddle you to sleep as 'not bad,' then no."

Laughter erupted among the boys, and Georg's face turned a shade of red that nearly matched his band t-shirt It was moments like these that highlighted the comfort and camaraderie that had blossomed among musicians. The playfulness and openness were a stark contrast to the initial reserve I had encountered when I first started working with them.

As we shared a light-hearted chuckle, Georg piped up, his voice still carrying a touch of sleepiness. "Well, I hate to admit it, that's probably the best night's sleep I've had in years.."

I grinned, nodding in agreement. "Well, don't count on me returning to the bed Georg. I had to fight my way out of the bed again. "

I turned my attention to the task at hand—helping the boys recover from their hangovers. I handed out pills and bottles of water, offering a sympathetic smile as they gratefully accepted them.

"Okay boys, sit down, we have some things to go over before we're at the hotel."

they all sat down and I quickly noticed that I had none of their attention, Gustav was creating a drum beat with his hands, Bill's inspecting his nails, Georg trying to go back to sleep, and Tom was with his legs leaning against the table looking at his phone.

I had to be creative on how I was gonna get their attention and keep it. 

"OKAY LISTEN UP!" I said out loud.

they all stopped and quickly turned an eye to look at me.

"I know you guys have been through this many times, but we need your radio interview to go well, I- Tom what's with the look?" I started but soon asked.

"It's just so fucking stupid" he answered.

"What is?" I asked trying to find a solution to the problem.

"All these stupid interviews, that's not what it's all about, We're here to play, it's what we do, not sit and talk gossip with someone dumb, who doesn't even know us.

I understood Tom's frustration, and his candid response didn't surprise me. While I was aware that interviews were part and parcel of the music industry, I also recognized that the boys were artists who valued their craft above all else. I leaned forward, meeting Tom's gaze with a thoughtful expression.

"You're absolutely right, Tom," I said, acknowledging his perspective. "Your music is what defines you, and that's what you're here to share. But think of these interviews as a way to let your fans into your world. It's an opportunity for them to connect with you on a more personal level."