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

Chapter 9

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.

"Ellie,” I moaned her name in protest for the eighty millionth time as she threw yet another top over the door of my dressing room at some trendy mall store she'd dragged me into. It wasn't really all that befitting to any of the too-general high school labels. It wasn't punk, it wasn't preppy. It was some odd combination of the two. And I know, usually those two weren't supposed to be mixed, but it worked. Everything in here was punky, in a preppy sort of way. And it was girly. Definitely girly.

Now, I'm not saying I was a tomboy, because I wasn't. I wasn't the girl who wore basketball shorts and sports team shirts all the time. I don't even own basketball shorts, and I hate any and all athletic activity. But I did wear whatever was comfortable to me. It usually consisted of jeans and Converse, as well as a t-shirt or tank top hidden under one of my numerous hoodies, all dependant upon the weather. I was never out to impress anyone when I got dressed in the mornings.

And I definitely never paid this much attention to my cleavage, curves, and ass.

But, to quote Ellie, "You have to look good in a way that looks really, really good, but not too good, because then you'd look high maintenance. And you have to look like you're trying hard, but not like you're trying too hard, to look good. It's got to be just revealing enough to not be slutty, and it's got to be tight so that it's form-fitting, but not that it's too tight." She had to have this long little spiel memorized or something, because she uttered it verbatim in every single store we went in, while we sifted through every single rack on the sales floor. It was her mantra, and it was almost as though she didn't know how to say anything other than that. It was driving me crazy.

"Would you quit your whining already?" My aforementioned best friend groaned in reply as she forced the door to my dressing room open. (As a side note, can I ask why they're called dressing ROOMS? Unless you go into the handicapped one - which you're not morally supposed to do, because it's, ya'no, for handicapped people – your dressing ROOM is a two-by-two area with a thin wooden wall and a door with slats on it. That is hardly my definition of a room. It's more of a dressing cubby.)

As Ellie looked over me, assessing various aspects of my garments that only she knew (seeing as she never told me specifically what we were looking for as we caroused the mall, looking to ransack it for all it was worth), I complained, "Can't I just wear something I already have? This all feels so… unnecessary, and so… much… Too much."

"I really like that," she ignored me, pointing quickly at the shirt I was wearing when she walked in. "It's so adorable. Try the green one on, too. You could always get them both, but we're shopping for the date, not for our everyday closets." But, she did have a point. As little as I wanted to admit it to myself, I did look really good in the outfit I had on when she barged her way into my dressing room.

"And just why aren't you trying on some of these wonder-outfits you keep shoving me into, huh?" I interrogated her as I yanked my shirt over the top of my head. "You're going on this date, too, in case you didn't know."

She giggled. "Because, silly. I'm not out to impress Josh tonight. Him and me are so far in the sweatpants phase that it's almost unreal. But you and Joey are just starting out, so you've got to impress him. Hence, the unreal amounts of new clothes."