1. Who are you now? (Tokio Hotel -Tom Kaulitz fanfiction)

Chapter one. Keine Spanisch, huh?

Josefine walked the halls of her new school. Her dark brown wavy hair and coffee coloured eyes contrasting with the green colour of the new uniform her mother had just washed and ironed for her to wear on her first day at the new school. The cold air hit her face hard when she walked past an open window, giving her the feeling that her skin was looking even paler and her nose and cheeks were red. The small 16 years old kept staring at her legs as they carried her to the classroom.

The situation was not funny to her; she was Spanish and now she had had to leave the comfort of her home, her friends and the language she knew for her entire life, all of it was left behind because her family had moved to Germany. Knowing only a very small bit of the language as well, Josefine – Finny for the friends – had to start in a new school. She knew no one and felt miserable after realizing the country was filled with picturesque parks here and there, just as different from Madrid as it could get, she just wanted big buildings everywhere and a park every many blocks. She would have to get used to it.

Josefine's parents, both of them, were business people and they worked in different companies back in Madrid, but in order to follow their dad to Germany, her mother had left her old job leaving her with no other option but to start looking for something in Hamburg as quick as possible while her husband got used to the new chores his recent promotion had given him.

The girl had gotten to school late due to her mother getting them lost, a rather unfortunate first day. Not even the GPS could help them because it was set in German, and anyway the woman didn't know the names of the streets. So Finny was left with no option but to be late on her first day of school.

When the young girl finally found her classroom she looked down at her uniform and fixed the dark red skirt just in time to see a pretty woman open the door. Bright blue eyes stared down at her and she awkwardly threw her right hand over her shoulder where the red strap of her backpack was. She felt a small bump on her throat and persuaded herself to swallow hard before the blonde teacher in front of her allowed her to step inside; the heat inside of the classroom was immediately thanked as she felt ridiculous for wearing the schools jacket and a white scarf her mother had knit for her on December.

Somehow, Josefine managed to understand the quiet instructions the teacher was giving her as she made her approach the desk and asked for her name before telling her to introduce herself to the class. All in a very difficult and strange language for a native Spanish speaker.

"Hello," she said with her hand up in a sad attempt to wave at the young people sitting in front of her, regretting this, she immediately dropped it at her side. "My name is Josefine."

Some boys at the far back seemed to be talking, which made it harder for her to concentrate on the battle of languages in her head. It usually happened that when she tried to say something in German, the language she had previously learnt made an unpleasant appearance to fill in the blank spaces, something that annoyed her very much. She forced her tongue to twist into the foreign language

"...or Finny, for the friends. I'm from Spain, I am new here and...that's it."

After awkwardly finishing her brief introduction she looked back at the teacher sitting at the front of the class in her desk. The woman told her to take a seat at the back, near the mumbling from before.

The day went on and surprisingly finished fast. The next day Josefine found herself standing outside the classroom with the rest of her classmates, the exams were coming up and the teachers had to sit their students in alphabetical order. Josefine Jurado was seated next, after finding the desk at the back and putting her stuff down, she placed her pencil and pens in order on top of the small wooden table; the boy in front of her chuckled, she stuck her head out just stretching in an attempt to get a look at the front of the classroom. A boy with black hair sticking out on the top of his head and a portion of it gelled to cover half of his face, with black eyeliner on his brown eyes in a perfectly pale face was walking slowly along with a boy who looked so much like him but at the same time so different; the hair seemed to be a shade of brown with a bit of blonde at the ends and it was styled in dreadlocks that were captured in a ponytail covered by a bandana and a cap, the uniform also looked huge on him.