My Addiction - Tom kaulitz

Drive

The empty streets call my name, each corner and alley inviting me to diverse down its unknown route, and I listen. The biting cold air nips at my skin, my nose turning bright red as the crisp wind blankets my body. I watch as the owners of various corner shops pull steel gates over their storefront, officially closing for the night, meaning I can only assume its well past ten pm. Each turn I take feels like the same one I took minutes ago, as if I'm in some never ending labyrinth leading right back to Tom, yet all I can do is keep winding through the streets in the hopes I can shake the shadow of the penthouse from my view.

As the odd car passes, I tense up, afraid that it might be Tom coming to get me. Although I know its stupid, I feel as though each step I take is being watched, calculated by someone I'm unaware of, and all I know is that the further I go, the more punishment I will receive if I don't make an escape. The shadows cast by the dim streetlights play tricks on my anxious mind, morphing into imaginary threats that seem to lurk around every corner. The chilly night air wraps around me, and the distant hum of the city becomes an eerie soundtrack to my escape. I quicken my pace, my heart pounding in sync with my hurried footsteps. The memory of the events leading up to this desperate dash for freedom haunts my thoughts like a relentless spectre.

As I navigate the never ending alleys, I can't shake the feeling that Tom's presence is closing in on me, like a predator stalking its prey. I glance over my shoulder at every echoing footfall, half expecting to see him emerging from the darkness. The weight of my fear presses down on me, and the urgency to find sanctuary propels me forward, my instincts screaming at me to stay one step ahead.My mind races through a mental map of potential hideouts, each alleyway and obscured doorway becoming a potential refuge. I know that I must find a place to lay low, at least for a while, to devise a plan or seek help. My breaths come in ragged gasps as I turn another corner, trying to outmaneuver the imaginary menace that has taken hold of my imagination.The city's rhythmic heartbeat of nightlife throbs around me, indifferent to the personal drama unfolding within its borders.

Desperation fuels my determination to escape the clutches of whatever malevolent force is driving me forward. With each passing block, the reality of my situation becomes clearer, and the stakes grow higher. The path ahead is uncertain, but I press on, driven by a potent mix of fear, adrenaline, and the fervent hope that I can break free from the shadows closing in on me.

At the end of the alleyway is a dumpster, partly shielded by a brick wall; blocking much view past the dark green lid of the bin. So after checking behind me once or twice, or twenty times, I run to the stench ridden garbage bin. I crouch behind it, trying to catch my breath while also trying not to breath in the ungodly smells pouring from the crevices of the bin, as car after car passes by I hold my breath, praying to whatever's up there to keep me save from the menace stalking me through the night, and one loud car catches my attention.

Although I cannot see said vehicle, I can tell it is a car made for speeding specifically, its engine revs, echoing through the once unscathed quietness of the alleyway. My heart pounds in my throat, and I feel as if I could throw up my internal organs, yet I slap a freezing, shaking hand to my mouth to trap my heavy breaths from escaping. Heavy footsteps boom through the linear space, sending quivers through my body, tears stream from my eyes, slightly warming my frozen hands as they drop onto the rest of my body.

Suddenly, the footsteps stop, as though they were never even there, yet I can faintly hear the heavy breathing of another person close by. I crumble onto the floor in panic, clutching my knees to my rapidly rising and falling chest, the toe of someones sneaker peeps around the corner shielding the bin, that's it I'm done. A hand wraps around the edge of the wall, and finally, a head pokes around the corner. I look up through the tears pooling in my eyes, and through my blurred vision, I barely make out the soft face of Gustav.

"Oh Angel!" He runs to my side, wrapping my uncontrollably shaking body in his muscular arms. I choke on my tears, sobbing into his shirt as he cradles my head in his large hands, "You poor, poor thing. Let me get you somewhere safe, please." He stands up, extending a hand for me to hold, "We don't have much time." He adds, attaching a sense of panic to his calming demeanour. I stand up, taking his hand, and before I can answer him I'm being dragged to the highway where his car is pulled up by, he swings the passenger door open, hurriedly helping me in before running back around the car to get in himself. And we're off.

"Gustav" I speak, just for the sake of speaking, he glances to me, nothing but worry in his glistening eyes, "I'm taking you to my home, you can stay for a while but knowing your luck it won't be for long." He sighs as he speaks, his heart yearning for me. "How did you find me?" I question, buckling in my seatbelt, "Tom called us all, told us what happened and I came straight away. I can't bear to think what he'd do to you." We swerve down the main roads, weaving between traffic as the speedometer shows us climbing up the speeds. "Its not far from here, just hold tight." With that he picks up the pace, racing down the motorway, almost colliding with many of the cars sharing the road with him, yet somehow we manage to come out unharmed.

We pull into the driveway of an old looking building, for sure not built to be a house, but who knows what living conditions the rest of them are in, a house is a house. Gustav turns to me, his skin going pale as he takes out a cigarette, "I know it looks shitty, and it kinda is shitty, but it's my home." He unbuckles our seatbelts, opening the door and rushing to the passenger side to open mine for me, taking my hand as I get out. I look up to the roof, the tiles crumbling, and the walls holding it up equally as damaged and worn, yet I trust him to walk me inside. A motion light or two flicker on as we enter, the huge metal door slamming behind us as we reach the main floor. His eyes dart around the room, the dim light beaming on his milky skin and dirty blonde hair, he sits on an old, torn up leather sofa with a tv propped up on some cardboard boxes in front of it. The air is musty and the lights fail to keep a steady spotlight on the room, he checks his flip phone, his mind wandering off as he watches as the time slowly ticks by; 11:15, 11:25, 11:40.

He flings his phone down, brushing his fingers through his hair before looking at me with a paranoid expressions, "Do you want a T-shirt or something?" He looks me up and down, reminding me that I'm dressed in nothing but the skimpy lingerie I had put on hours ago, I nod, feeling somewhat ashamed. He pulls the hem of his shirt up, pulling it over his arms before handing it to me, I throw it on, the strong scent of his cologne filling my nostrils as the fabric brushes over my face, "Thank you." I look to his now revealed body, his broad shoulders and the feint lines of his abs peeking through his skin, the veins on his forearms pulsing, and his v-line. My breath gets caught in my throat as the crimson lights illuminate him, portraying him as some kind of angel, and at this moment, he is my angel.

He cups my face with a warm hand, his thumb brushing over my lipstick stained lips, his face slowly getting closer to mine. I open my mouth slightly as his nose presses against my cheek and the corner of his lips touch mine, "Im sorry, Angel. But I did what I had to do." I frown, confused as he pulls away from me and stands up, and as he backs away from the sofa, I see the shadows of three men coming towards me, their figures slightly darker than the black atmosphere surrounding them.