I'll Sing You One Last Song and then I'm Gone (Tokio Hotel Fan-Fic)

Chapter 5

This story is written by @xAnDeinerSeitex She wrote this story on a website called TokioHotelFiction.com. I was able to locate her and found out she had a wattpad account. She has given me permission to post it on here. @xAnDienerSeitex aslo has a new updated version of the story, as seeing this one is a few years old. If you like to read that one click the external link on the side. And I would like to say I have no rights to this story and I am NOT the writer. I would also like to thank @xAnDeinerSeitex for writing this great story and letting me post it on my account.

Running through the monsoon, beyond the world, to the end of time, where the rain won't hurt. Fighting the storm, into the blue, and when I lose myself, I think of you. Together we'll be running somewhere new, and nothing can hold me back from you. Through the monsoon..."

It was music such as this that was turned up to an almost surreal level in my bedroom that night as I stood in the dead center of it with my canvas stretched out before me, cup of pencils on the ledge of the stand. My father wasn't home and Mum was busy downstairs doing something that involved a sweet smell to battle the music for space in the air, so it was the perfect time to work on my project. There would be no fighting and screaming. Music is a much better sound track to letting your creative juices flow than yelling is.

The little snippet of song up there I was letting my body sway to? That was from "Monsoon" by Tokio Hotel. Yeah, Tokio Hotel as in the band which Bill Kaulitz sings for. As he lent the atmosphere in my room his sugary sweet voice, I drew him in all his beauty on an 18x24 canvas.

You might be curious as to how I acquired the music. As soon as Ellie and I got over the screaming part of our realization and calmed down, we decided to pool our money together (hers from the job she had at the cookie shop in the mall and mine that I'd snuck from my father to smite him when he wasn't paying attention, which was all the time) and head up to the most commercial street in town, Pinehurst Avenue. It was there that all the businesses were in my town. Fast food places, the mall, the grocery stores, department stores, fancy sit-down places. Almost everything that involved money was on that road. Also on that road was a Best Buy, which was our destination for the day. Further reading on the internet told us that the band was currently on a mission to gain some popularity in America, seeing as they'd already taken Europe by storm. The store only had two of their albums. Well, technically three. I liked their method. They'd recorded two CDs in German, and then picked their favorites for an English CD. When they wrote their next one, they did all the songs over into English, and sold both copies. We'd gotten both English disks and the one German one that had been translated entirely. "Scream", which was comprised of pop-rock and ballads, and "Humanoid", which was more electro with tastes of the pop-rock still buried in there somewhere. We had orders in with Amazon to send us both the original two CDs as well. I could obviously not speak or understand German, and had no real interest in learning it, but there was something enchanting about Bill singing in his native language.

Bill. It felt so odd to call him that, as opposed to B.K. It's not that I wasn't glad that I knew who he was, because really, I was ecstatic. It meant I didn't need to wait until I was asleep to see him, if I ever would see him again in my dreams. To me, the whole thing seemed silly. I'd heard of lucid dreams before, but not like this. I'd never heard of people dreaming together. I'd convinced myself that even if he was real, I'd been dreaming OF him, not WITH him. There was a very, very big difference.

"Knock-knock," I heard out of the blue over the music from the doorway of my room, causing myself to turn to face the door subliminally. But, there was no need to worry about much of anything. It was only Mum, standing in her blue and green flannel pajamas, her auburn hair tied back into a ponytail much like mine. Mine was to keep my hair out of my face, though, but I could tell hers was to try and reduce the heat she felt, since she was in the kitchen, and the air still held traces of whatever sweet thing she was making. From behind her, she pulled out a small dessert plate, on which were three chocolate chip cookies. "Your father's not home and I had the urge to bake. Do so while I can, right?" She laughed softly, nervously, though there was nothing funny about what she was saying.