Live me! (Kaulitzcest - No Related) +18

2. Der Lagerfeldmann (The Man from Lagerfeld)

I know, I know, it's been a loooooong time. And I am sorry, dishonor on me, my family and my cow. If I say I've had exams you're gonna say OH COME ON YOU PROCRASTINATING SHIT and you would be all right. BUT here I am.

The song on the multimedia is from The Phantom of the Opera Soundtrack. It's not precisely the best film of the world, but as a musical it's fair enough and the song fits the chapter as a glove sooo fuck the police <3

Thank you reader, whoever and wherever you are, don't be so quiet and scold me because I'm bad as fuck translating my own work to my second language. BTW, DON'T FORGET if you talk Spanish you can find it on my Wattpad channel.

I hope you enjoy and laugh a bit. I'm awful at being funny, but making an hysterical Tom is something I've found I love, because it's so unusual, normally he's always collected and dominating...

I'd better SHUT THE FUCK UP and leave you alone to read.

November the 14th. Friday. Reinhardtstraße. MEGA model agency.

'TOM!' If that high pitched voice man screamed my name again, I would slap him right in his face with one of the dozens of high-brand totes around the set.

When I finally got out of the atonishment of being blown away by Bill, I realised what kind of person he was.

At least twenty (twenty!) people sorrounded the Prima Donna of that cold and industrial studio, just to butter him. And Bill completely snubbed them. The twenty (twenty!) of them. Bill had been, thirty minutes so far, the fucking Sun of the little scenario that had clutters spread here and there. And he had achieved that without saying one single word. Everyone seemed to bestrategically positioned to serve and assist him, even that arrogant douchebag of his manager!

'Oh, Bill, may I bring you your water?' 'Are you cold, Bill?' 'You look so beautiful, Bill!'

Seriously, even the photographer gilded him the pill! That situation was incredible, I could not imagine the terrible caracter the little angel must have had. All I could imagine when I thought of him having a tantrum was...what? a boner?

Very often models think of themselves as demi-gods who-just by breathing- feed the commoners they are sorrounded of. Through my life as a photographer I had dealt with a handful of those. The role of the photographer should bec ontrol their diva behaviour and kindly remember them that they should take the wind of his sails in order not to screw the contract that raises them so much.

Nevertheless, Bill looked pretty much docile. Well, rather than docile, indifferent. He was apathetic,yes, but also an apathetic wonder, even when grimacing from time to time. The rare moments Mampfred wasn't crying my name to ask me stupidities like getting Bill's discarded towel after he dried his lips, I was staring at him, stupefied. He only changed his expression for posing, and I must say he did amazingly good. He was both the enchanteur and the snake, and I felt... like the mouse for the lunch. No one was touching him or his make up, no one helped him changing clothes. I made up an illusion on my mind where, if someone touched him, he would dissapear. Bill appeared to be so fragile  and supernatural as a fleeting statue made of foam*. A statue stuffed into a pair of black, chocking-tight leather pants.

I felt a weird irritation for he had not noticed my presence yet. By the way the rest of the people adressed him, I must have been the only one new around here, and he had not even looked at me. To be honest, he had not looked specifically at something... except for the camera, and only if Mampfred asked him to, because some of the photographies were those where the model is looking to Japan.

Anyway, I was fucking swirming around him in circles! Not because I felt like it (although I did felt so...) but just because I was tyding the bloody mess he made with his fifteen (fifteen!) changes of very expensive clothes. My name echoed through among the noise of the room time after time, but he didn't seem to wonder who the heck is Tom. I was starting to desperate. I was a photographer, not a maid, for Christ's sake.

Mampfred called me again when he was done with photographing Bill, and he left to get rid of the last attire. His manager stayed around, arguing with the make up artist and the hairdresser until he made both cry.

I thought that Mampfred, in his crave to maintain happy Mr. Repellent, was going to order me to bring a glass of water for Your Conceited Majesty. Instead, he looked at me deeply and, in next moment, he was offering me the high-quality camera when he unstuck it from the tripod.

'Look at this. I look forward to your opinion. You know, what do you think of them and all that... I want to choose the good ones together if you please, Tom.' Said he with a sweet, transformed voice. It sounded authentic and I knew he respected me as an artist, I knew he thought of me as an equal. And that made me smile and bit my tongue so I would not spat him acurse for treating me like a slave to test my patience. I wished Georg was still here, so I could spill it all on him.

Before looking at any photo, I possitively knew beforehand it was impossible to outdo the reality. Bill was what he was: fucking perfection, nothing else to say. He would have been the wild dream of any sculptor, and the photos made all justice to his caucasian glory. Mampfred had shot like two hundred pictures, when the magazine wanted about twenty. We looked at each other at once when we realised we already had seen fifty photos and we could not dispose any of them. On each one he was as breathtaking as on the prior. We sighed at once and giggled lowly when we were surprised, again, by the sound of the entrance door.

Then, out of a sudden, everything lost all sense. Bill and Georg approached us almost at top speed and Bill... Bill was smiling with the power of a thousand lightbulbs. White wonders behind tender rose. I found myself dying for doing something so meaningless and embarrasing as holding his elegant and delicate hand. They were perflectly manicured, and so bony and slender as a woman's. Even Mampfred seemed startled about how joyful Bill was looking.

'Hi again!' exclaimed Georg from the distance.

'What has gotten into this lad?'mumbled Mampfred. Before I could ask why was so stranged about a model wanting to know how he had appeared in the images, his manager and him reached our position.

'Everything went softly, is it?'asked the sassy bastard. God, those hazel eyes of Bill were staring at me intently, with those huge, doll-like eyes and something intense hook me from head to toe. Who was this man if he even was one? I was getting excited as a school girl just because he had noticed I existed at all! How would his voice sound? As unearthly as himself?

'Of course! with Bill it's impossible anything going wrong. In fact, I think my camera is inlo ve with you!' What a shameless buttering, boss.

'Mampfred, I can't wait! Show me the entire shooting! Take care of Bill for a while, Thomas!'

Thomas? Take care of Bill? What the heck?

'Well... well, sure. See you later, Tom.' they got away, considerably away just to watch a bunch of photos, as if they wanted to be alone... or us to be alone.

Shit, now what? I could not even stand Bill looking at me, what the hell was I supposed to do? Talk to him? Do sights even talk? What if he was a mute? What if he was one of those cases of models that fought for their dreams getting over their disabilities and all that stuff? God, how had I been so stupid!That might explain everything! Abstent expression, everyone adoring and aiding him... and me feeling outraged by tyding his clothes! Poor Bill! Poor prettyness! How bad I wanted to protect him! How b...!

'Hi. Probably you already have guessed, but I'm Bill, Bill Kaulitz. You are Thomas, right?'

Good Jesus!

*In the original version of The Little Mermaid, Ariel sacrifices her life for the sake of the prince's, turning into a fleeting statue of salty foam. There's a beautiful conmemorative statue in Copenhague, Denmark. :D Probably you knew it from before but if you didn't NOW YA'LL NOW THANKS TO AUNTIE MERI. GO AND SPREAD YOUR KNOWLEDGE.

Part published January the 26th, 2016.