Prenote: The viedo to the side- ignore the first minute. This is the opening song, and since this viedo is from the Humanoid DVD, it just has to introduce everything before actually beginnning the performance.
NOTE: Dates are not necessary in this chapter.
(Original)
Auf der Suche nach dem Licht/ Genau wie du und ich/ Oh/ Komm/ Die nacht ist hell/ Komm/ Entkomm der Welt/ Komm lass dich fallen/ Um zu Fliegen/ Komm/ Der Himmel brennt/ Komm/ Sensationell/ Komm/ Lass dich fallen
(English)
Silence can destroy/ Get up and raise your voice/ Make some noise/ Here on earth/ Noise/ To the world/ Noise/ For all the things/ You believe in/ Noise/ Let them hear you/ Noise/ Let them feel you/ Noise/ Make them know/ That you care- Tokio Hotel- Komm
Ch 16
Hamburg, Germany
My mind couldn't stop spinning at the surrealistic feeling of the day. It was odd to think about, actually. I never imagined -not in my craziest day dream- that I'd be onstage performing as an opening act of a band I didn't even particularly like. But then again, they were long lost family.
Nerves had no time to pool in the pit of my stomach as we moved from place to place, getting ready. Well, not until I found out exactly what the guys did backstage before the concert. But I'll get to that later.
No stylist were around due to the fact none of these rock stars would tolerate people telling them what to wear, what to do or where to go. So, throughout the last couple days I enhanced my wardrobe, buying new clothes and accessories for the items I had brought along. Complements were given often of my classy style as I knew exactly what I wanted. And tonight, I decided on a casual, comfy look. A white tank top hugged my body and reached just below the waist line of my jeans, which happened to be rolled up underneath my knees. Over the tank was a loose purple sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder that hit mid stomach. And I pushed up the sleeves up to my elbows. On top a silver key hung on a large chain. Only a light layer of eyeliner highlighted my eyes and a smoke effect of eye shadow coated my eyelids but that's all the makeup I put on.
An hour before the concert, after all of us were prepared, the boys dragged me into a mid-sized room. Filled with couches and random chairs that's all there was. All except a guitar and bass, which hung on a rack near the opposite door, and a microphone, sat on the shelf above.
I turned to face the group, but everyone seemed to be on their own already. Gustav, his music blasted his headphones as to where I could hear it across the room. Georg, on the other hand, just stared at his phone. Either waiting for a reply from someone, most likely his girlfriend that I was recently informed of, or watching time being wasted away before nine o'clock. Though, Tom picked up his guitar and strummed lightly giving the room a vibrant hum. He looked lost in thought, about what though, I wasn't exactly sure. In the corner stood Bill, he had a piece of paper in his hand and began mouthing lyrics.
Comfortable in their routine, left me standing. Alone. A knot tied in my stomach as the nerves finally caught up to me. What if I messed up? What if I couldn't remember the lyrics? What if the fans decided they didn't like me? Or worse, what if I passed out on stage? That would be total embarrassment. No doubt, it'd be viral in hours.
My gut squeezed running a sharp pain down the length of my spine. Breaking in a full out sprint, I shoved the nearest door open. Long strides led me to the backstage bathroom, which, thankfully, wasn't far.
Throwing myself over the nearest toilet, the remains of latest meal I'd eaten splattered into the water. My throat felt raw from the stomach acids that seared the inside of my esophagus. A guttural sound ripped my throat as another wrench pulled at my abdomen. I kept my eyes open, letting the tears yet to fall dry, though I wanted to break down. I wasn't ready. "I can't," I whispered to myself, "I can't do it."
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