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

Chapter 19

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.

“You look ravishing, Love,” Mum smiled brightly at me from where she stood beside me with her hand rested on my shoulder as we looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror hung on the back of my bedroom door. Today is my eighteenth birthday, the day I finally gain my freedoms and the recognition as an adult, as well as the day of the party Joey had planned for me, without telling me much about it. All I know is, Mum went all out, pulling out all the stops, to make sure that I looked nothing short of gorgeous.

I think that, what with such a limited life outside of battling her demons, as sad as that is to admit, Mum really just wanted to make me feel special, pampering me as a sort of way to show me that she still cares. She doesn't often get the chance to spoil me, so, given that it was my birthday, she used it as an excuse. Of course, Roger decided that this week was a good time to tell his employers that he wanted to “work from home”, which translated to drinking until he passed out, only to awaken and drink some more. None of his work got done, so his pay was pretty short this week, meaning the money for my birthday was a bit limited. Mum promised to make it up to me, swearing to get me some more extravagant things when there was money to sneak away.

For the moment, though, she'd done what she could, and took me out of school for the day, in favor of letting me sleep in, going for lunch and then out shopping instead. After I woke up shortly after eleven this morning, Mum instructed me to shower up and get ready to go out with her. Of course, being the lazy person I am, I “getting ready to go out” was putting on a clean pair of sweatpants, a thermal, and a loose-fitting hoodie to fight out the harsh early-winter air New York never failed to serve up every single year from November to the end of April. Once I was dressed and as ready as I was going to be (without doing much of anything to my hair, much less in the way of makeup), she brought me over to the mall to raid it for all it was worth. She seemed to think I should head toward the bridal store to get a sort of prom dress to wear to the party tonight, but I strongly objected. One thing I did know about the party was that, after we'd all eaten at The Bistro, we were going to shuffle downtown to a club called The Riot Room to dance until the wee hours of the morning, so the last thing I really wanted was a flowing, expensive little number. I promised her she could come with me when I buy a dress for prom a couple months from now, and we carried onto the next store.

Eventually, I wound up recalling one dress I'd seen when I returned to the mall a few days ago with Ellie and some the girls from the expanding group of friends I was harnessing for myself with this newborn sense of social acceptance. We'd come for coffee drinks, but wound up window shopping for a while to waste some time before we met up with the guys. The version of me that was around when Ellie and I went shopping for my first date with Joey, the one who wondered why anybody would want to pay so much attention to their appearance, had officially checked out, vanishing to some unknown place. This time, as we wandered through racks and racks of clothing, I found a million things the prior version of me never would have looked twice at. As acceptance and I became acquainted with each other, I began to garner more self-confidence, and was no longer afraid to wear those shirts that were a little tighter to show off the figure I so often hid behind sweatshirts. Ellie was so proud of me when I tried on a sky-blue fitted sweater that showed off all the positive things about my torso, amplifying every curve I had in the best of ways. Honestly, I was a bit proud of myself, as well. After resisting such femininity for so long, succumbing to it and embracing my body was kind of nice.