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

Chapter 23

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.

Joey laughed wickedly as I struggled with my hair to the repetitive tune of heavy, violent banging on my bathroom door. “Ashley would you just open the door already?” Ellie begged of me from the outside, where she stood with Josh, waiting eagerly for me to make an appearance for the first time since she arrived at my house ten minutes before. “I know you're in love and all, but what are the chances this guy's going to see you tonight?”

The date was Friday, February 22nd, which, if you recall, is the date of the Tokio Hotel concert down at Collage Street Music Hall. For months, I have been anticipating this day, and now it had finally arrived. I wound up skipping school, thinking I was the only one with that plan, but, judging by the barrage of text messages I had from them when I woke up around ten to start getting ready (a true-blue fan of a band knows that, the earlier you get to the venue to brave the elements and wait in line, the better your spot in the venue is), Ellie and Joey had as well. Coming to this realization, we each called Josh, Yosuke, and Sam out of school, saying that we would pick them up around noon, though Josh would leave early and drive himself to my house, due there at any moment. There was no way we were going to wait by ourselves and just let them join us. It was below freezing out today, and I refused to freeze my butt off for our spots while they did nothing.

The plan was, Joey and Ellie would come over to my house at eleven thirty, and we would finish getting ready together (which largely pertained to Ellie and I, since Joey didn't much care what he looked like for the night) before picking up our friends. How we were going to arrive at three different school districts in one car at the same time was beyond me, but I questioned nothing. All I knew was, I was far too excited to get this day on the road.

As sad as it is to admit, I haven't seen Bill in my dreams since the night I broke his heart into a million pieces. Daily, I berated myself for such a heinous thing, but even though I so desperately wanted to apologize, we both knew I didn't deserve the shot at it. Thus, Bill had been noticeably absent since that one night. Everything about my dream-world is the same, except for the fact that he's nowhere to be found. Every night, I flutter to the other side of consciousness, fully aware that I'm asleep, but Bill is no place. I've been to the Meadow, I've been to the Bistro, I've been in my room – I've been everywhere he and I went, and never can I find him. I search each locale thoroughly, hoping that maybe he's hiding and searching for him in every nook and cranny, like he's some tiny, insignificant thing I can just hide away, but never seem to find him.

Every single night, once I give up on locating my dream partner, I plop myself down where he and I always sat together when he graced me with his presence – under the tree in the Meadow, in the specific table at the Bistro, and on my bed in my room – and mentally prepare my apology. It may be in vain, yes, but what if it isn't? What if he doesn't hate me forever, like he has every right to? If and when he finally shows up again, if only for a moment, I wasn't going to waste the time. I had my apology almost entirely prepared, down pat, every word was memorized, all intonations in sync.

If Bill was going to bring himself to talk to me, even if he never forgave me for what I've done to him, he was going to know how sorry I am for everything, for not telling him, for hiding behind facades. I had done him wrong, and I was sorry. I just wished he knew that, too.