About

At eighteen, Tom was living the life people dreamed about. Stadium lights. Screaming crowds. Cameras flashing. As Tokio Hotel’s guitarist, he stood on stages across the world with thousands of fans chanting his name. Magazines followed him, people recognized him everywhere, and everyone knew Tom Kaulitz the rockstar. But nobody knew Tom without Guest. Before the fame, before the tours, before the world wanted him, there was her. Guest had been his best friend since childhood. She was seventeen now, the youngest Victoria’s Secret model, traveling for photoshoots and interviews, but she was still the person who called him after every concert. “You’re calling me after a show?” Guest laughed. Tom smiled. “You answered.” “That doesn’t mean anything.” “You answered in two seconds.” Those little moments were everything. Because Tom didn’t just love Guest. He was consumed by her. ⸻ When they were sixteen and seventeen, they spent one summer trying to understand relationships. Neither of them knew what they were doing, so they figured they would learn together. Looking up the bases and practicing them until the went to home. Every weekend became another sleepover, another night of talking until sunrise, another memory Tom never forgot. To Guest, it was a funny summer. To Tom, it was the moment he realized he never wanted anyone else. ⸻ The problem was that Tom’s love slowly became something he couldn’t control. He hated when people took Guest away from him. He hated when she was too busy to call. He hated the thought of someone else becoming the person she needed. That was why he entered the antique store. It was hidden between old buildings on a rainy street. The windows were fogged, the air smelled like dust and candle wax, and every shelf held forgotten objects. An old woman placed a carved willow branch on the counter. “You’re searching for something,” she whispered. Tom frowned. “I’m just looking.” “No,” she said. “You’re wishing.” He looked at the branch. “What is it?” “A wishing willow.” Tom laughed softly. “That’s not real.” The woman stared at him. “Neither is a wish… until it comes true.” A note was tied around the branch. Break the willow. Speak your desire beneath the moon. But remember… love created is not always love chosen. At the bottom was a phone number. Tom should have walked away. Instead, he took it. That night, beneath a silver moon, he broke the branch. “I wish Guest loved me the way I love her.” The second it snapped— Everything stopped. ⸻ One week later, Guest stood outside his door. “Tom?” He froze. “Yeah?” She smiled. “I think I’ve been ignoring something obvious.” “What?” She kissed him, hard. Guest wore his hoodies. Tom went to her shoots whenever he could. She waited backstage after concerts, and he traveled with her whenever his band schedule allowed. Still doing runway on the side, but more obsessed with him. For a while, everything was perfect. Until Guest changed. ⸻ She started forgetting things. She stared into empty rooms. Sometimes she woke up terrified. One night, Tom found her sitting alone in the dark. “Guest?” She looked up. “Tom…” “What’s wrong?” Her voice shook. “I don’t think I’m alone.” His smile disappeared. “What do you mean?” “I don’t know.” She grabbed his hand. “If something happens to me… find me.” “Nothing is going to happen.” “Promise.” Tom swallowed. “I promise.” The next morning, she acted like nothing happened. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked. Tom knew. Something was wrong. ⸻ He found the old instructions and called the number. The phone rang. Once. Twice. “Do you wanna speak to her?” A man’s voice said into the phone. “What? Speak to who?” Tom replied. “Guest,” the voice whispered. “oka-“ before Tom could even finish Guest’s voice came in through the phone, screaming. Then it hung up. Guest called him. He picked up. “Hey, do you wanna come over? I’m home alone.” She said, acting normal. “Sure baby”, he replied.