Two for Tragedy

7. Finding Rhythm

The next morning, Jo woke up at dawn, sunlight barely peeking through the curtains. She stretched and got dressed in her workout clothes, lacing up her running shoes. This was her daily ritual—a morning run to clear her mind before the chaos of the day set in. 

When she got downstairs, the bodyguards were already waiting for her at the hotel entrance. They knew her routine well by now. Jo gave them a quick nod and set off into the bustling streets of Berlin. The city was alive even at this early hour—tourists, commuters, and locals filling the sidewalks. Jo found it harder to navigate, having to weave around people, dodging bicycles, and constantly stopping at red lights. It wasn't the same as the quiet, peaceful runs she was used to back home. By the time she returned to the hotel, a sheen of sweat on her forehead, she felt more frustrated than refreshed.

With a sigh, she went upstairs to shower, trying to shake off the disappointment. After getting dressed, she joined her bandmates for lunch in the hotel's restaurant. The food was good, but the nerves still gnawed at her stomach. In just a few hours, they were heading to the concert venue to rehearse.

After lunch, both bands gathered in the hotel lobby. The cars arrived to take them to the venue—a massive arena that loomed large as they approached. Inside, crew members were already setting up the stage, adjusting lighting, and running cables across the floor.

Jo and Bill were quickly pulled aside, separated from the rest of the group for their vocal warm-up session. A coach, arranged by their managers, greeted them in a smaller room off to the side of the stage. It was a simple setup, just a piano and some space for them to work.

As they went through scales and exercises, the atmosphere was surprisingly relaxed. Bill, always the more outgoing of the two twins, broke the silence first.

"You really put me to shame with that run earlier," he said with a playful grin. "I saw you sprinting past the lobby while I was still half asleep."

Jo laughed softly, shaking her head. "It wasn't as good as it looked. Running through Berlin is like running an obstacle course. I'm more used to quiet places, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that," Bill replied, his smile widening. "Berlin's chaos can take some getting used to. But it's a cool city, right?"

Jo nodded. "It is. It's just... this whole tour thing is starting to feel real now. Everything's moving so fast."

Bill leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. "Tell me about it. I'm nervous too, even though I try to hide it. The pressure's intense. But hey, we're in this together, right? You and me, we're carrying this thing."

Jo glanced at him, surprised by how genuine he sounded. It wasn't something she expected from him. "Yeah," she said, her tone softening. "I guess we are."

There was a brief pause before Bill grinned again. "And hey, maybe after this we can convince the others to chill out a bit. I don't know about you, but I'm not trying to deal with band drama for a whole year."

Jo laughed at that, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease. "Yeah, that would be nice. I think Aaro would have a heart attack if I suggested it though."

Bill chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, he does seem... intense."

The rest of the session went smoothly, with the two vocalists getting through their warm-ups while chatting here and there. By the time it was over, Jo found herself feeling lighter, less weighed down by the pressure of the upcoming show. Maybe this tour wouldn't be as bad as she thought—at least, not if Bill kept up the friendly banter.

Tokio Hotel took the stage first, moving through their sound checks, adjusting lights, and testing the equipment with practiced ease. Requiem of the Fallen sat scattered across the front row, watching with curiosity. Jo leaned back in her seat, quietly observing how the band worked together. She had to admit, they were tight—well-rehearsed and professional. Their stage presence was strong, and Bill's energy during the sound check was undeniably captivating. He had a way of commanding attention, even during rehearsals.

But as good as Jo thought they were, her bandmates had other opinions. Aaro, Mikael, and Niko exchanged glances, subtly critiquing under their breath. Aaro, never one to hold back, muttered something about Tom's guitar technique being too sloppy, while Mikael commented on the drummer's timing. Niko nodded along, unimpressed by the small details, and the three of them quietly dissected everything they saw.

When Tokio Hotel finally wrapped up their rehearsal, they didn't linger. Bill waved a quick goodbye as they packed up, ready to head back to the hotel. Jo felt a wave of relief wash over her as the other band left. She didn't want them watching their rehearsal, feeling like they'd be judged just as harshly as her own bandmates had judged them. Though she wasn't nervous about their performance, having an audience made it feel like a competition, and Jo wanted to focus on her own group without that added tension.

Once the stage was clear, Requiem of the Fallen took over. As they got into their own sound checks and lighting adjustments, Jo felt herself relax. The moment she stood at the microphone and heard the familiar melody of their songs begin to play, she felt at home. Singing was her sanctuary—the one place where everything made sense. Her voice echoed across the empty arena, filling the space with an energy that brought the band together.

For the first time since they'd arrived in Berlin, Jo noticed something shift. Her bandmates, who had been tense and critical earlier, were loosening up. Aaro played his guitar with a grin, exchanging playful glances with Mikael and Niko as they worked through their set. They were interacting with each other, feeding off the music in a way they hadn't done since their last tour.

They rehearsed for hours, lost in the rhythm and the fun of it all. Jo walked off feeling lighter, knowing that when it came to the music, they were ready for whatever was coming.