𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴

𝕴𝖙 𝖗𝖚𝖓𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖞

Tears welled in my eyes, not solely from the emotional pain I was feeling, but also from the physical struggle to breathe after choking on my food. My mascara, which I had carefully applied earlier, now threatened to streak down my cheeks.

As I stood there in the bathroom, surrounded by the amazing colors and overall luxury, none of it registered. All my focus was on the overwhelming mix of emotions coursing through me. Embarrassment burned hotly in my chest, and my cheeks flushed with it. I was embarrassed about the way people were looking at me, embarrassed that the girl Bill was making out with looked so much like me, and embarrassed that I couldn't control my physical reaction to that.

Beneath the embarrassment lay a deep sense of hurt. I meant nothing to him; I was just another girl that they had managed to catch in their trap. But what else did I expect? Of course, this would happen; they are the Kaulitz twins.

In that moment, surrounded by opulence, I felt small and insignificant. It was as if the world had conspired to remind me of my place. I had been an observer, a passenger on this ride, and now I had seen the reality of their lifestyle. As I tried to regain my composure, a bitter truth settled in my heart. I was just a momentary diversion in their extravagant lives, and my feelings of hurt and embarrassment were nothing more than collateral damage in their world of excess and indulgence.

A knock pulled me out of my thoughts. I quickly wiped my tears with the wipe I was holding in my hands and turned to be met with Bill's head peeking inside the women's bathroom. When he was sure that I was alone, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

"Hey," he said, stepping closer. I turned to the mirror, wiping off the mascara that had streamed down my cheeks. He moved closer from behind me and sneaked his hands around my waist. I placed my palms on his hands, trying to get them off of me, but he wouldn't budge. He pulled me closer, placing his head on my shoulder and staring into my eyes through the mirror.

"That girl you kissed, didn't it bother you that she looked a lot like me?" I asked in a small voice, my throat still sore.

"Lolita, I kissed her because she looked a lot like you," Bill admitted, his voice tinged with sincerity. I turned my head, his face now only inches away from mine. "Oh, really?" I replied, a hint of playful skepticism in my voice. Bill's eyes locked onto mine, his gaze intense. He turned me around and gently lifted me, setting me down on the edge of the sink. My heart raced in response to the unexpected move.

He stood there, close enough that I could feel his warmth radiating, his eyes still locked onto mine, his face as close as it could be without touching mine. The sincerity in his gaze was undeniable, and it left me speechless. "Yes, Lolita, really," he whispered. Suddenly, I became very aware of the way he had positioned himself between my legs and his hands on my thighs. I felt like my heart was melting inside of me and slowly dripping down to my lower stomach. Bill's gaze never wavered as the tension in the room grew palpable. His fingers brushed lightly against my thighs, sending shivers down my spine. I struggled to find words in the midst of this electrifying moment.

With a soft, husky voice, he broke the silence, "I couldn't stop thinking about you, even when I was with her." My breath caught in my throat as his confession hung in the air. His eyes searched mine for any sign of understanding or reciprocation. I gently rested my right hand on his cheek, my thumb on his lips as his eyes were still locked with mine.

"I should get back to Georg," I said, not moving an inch. "Yeah, I think you should," he whispered, staying still, my finger still on his lips. I kept staring into the soft darkness of his dark brown eyes, our hearts beating fast. Time seemed to stand still as we just stood there. The unspoken connection between us crackled with intensity, a magnetic pull that neither of us could deny. "I've never felt this way before," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "Me neither," Bill replied, his voice filled with vulnerability and desire.

Suddenly, the door opened, and the black-haired woman from before walked in. Seeing us, she froze in her tracks. Only now I could see how much her features resembled me. Her face structure was a bit different than mine, but from a further distance we would look the same.

"Bill?" She asked, her voice sounding upset. "You told me, you were coming back and now you've got a new whore that..." she came closer and tried to touch my face with her well-manicured hands, but I pulled as far away as I could, still being held by Bill, trying to avoid her touch. "Looks surprisingly a lot like me," she finished her sentence, stepping away, backward, still staring at us. "Bill, you are sick," she said, a disgusting laughter escaping ger troath. "How dare you call her a whore?" Bill turned to her, grabbing her by her shoulders and pulling her up, closer to his face. I jumped off the counter and stepped backwards, not knowing what to expect. "She is nothing like you," he spat out. She turned her head in my direction, nothing but hate in her eyes. He let her go, motioning for her to leave. As she was about to close the door, she turned back one last time. "You are just like your brother, Bill, I guess it runs in your family." She slammed the door and was gone.