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

Chapter 24

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.

Bill's extended absence in my life didn't just stop at the cancellation of the concert here in Rhodes, the day he was almost literally within reach and left me without saying so much as a word, much less giving me a chance to do such a thing. He stayed gone. Every night, I fell asleep expecting to find him, despite how long he'd been away, and every morning, I woke up depressed and more alone than when I went to sleep.

Soon enough, days gave way to weeks, and, before I knew it, weeks had bled into months. It felt like time was flying by, passing as though the finale of my high school career was nothing. To me, it always had seemed like it would come across as nothing special; I just wanted my diploma so I could get away from everyone. However, the “everyone” that I hated before had wormed their way into my lives before I realized what was going on, and, in the blink of an eye, I was the most important face in Marmara High School, the grip from which had begun to spread over into the surrounding districts, as well. If Joey were the king, I was his proverbial queen, taking a seat in power directly beside him. Everyone loved him, and if he loved me, then they figured that they should love me, too.

It seemed as though the life I craved so desperately was crashing down around me as I slept, whereas the life I never asked for built itself higher and higher in my waking hours. Every single day brought someone new, someone who pretended they knew who I was before I got meshed in with Joey, pretended that, if they did know me, that they never minded me much. I had officially shed the skin of the awkward outsider, completing the metamorphosis into the social butterfly. Soon enough, I had lost control of everything I never wanted to have control over, anyway.

When I woke up, I always had text messages on my cell phone from various people – some who I recognized from before, some who I swore I had never met – that took me forever to answer. The social networking sites I was coerced into signing up for had tons of friends, followers, whatever they were called on each website. If I didn't check them everyday, they would become overwhelming and I would just wind up deleting a lot of the stuff. I walked out of school each day with about a dozen invitations to do this and that after we got out. If less than twenty-five people said some sort of greeting to me as I walked from class to class each day, it was a strange occurrence. Classmates in stores around town slipped me their employee discounts, just to try to get on my good side.

Bill had been the only anchor keeping me tethered down to the girl I used to be, the painter who stayed in her bedroom and listened to music and pieced together beautiful works of art. Now that he was gone, I had nothing attaching me to her, and, thus, she was let go of before I even realized it, lost in the confusing madness that had become of my once-pitiful life. I didn't know if she was still someplace inside of me or the broken feeling I got every night when I accepted that I was dreaming alone was really me cracking open and letting her out, piece by piece. Sometimes I missed her, and others, I didn't.

Everyone I encountered loved me. I was given everything I could ever dream of asking for by a menagerie of people. I was never home anymore, eliminating Roger's chances of knocking me down a few pegs. I found reasons to stop taking my anti-depressant medication. Mum was slowly beginning to get better. I can't remember the last time I cried about anything.

I was on top. Why on earth would I want to go back to the way things were before, to the times everything was so complicated and required effort, when I had the world at my feet?