Der Regen Fällt

There’s nothing else he could do but wait. He listens to the clock ticking, he never knew what to expect, but it always happened. Every night when he lay in the dark, alone. He never got used to it, he couldn’t wait for the sun to rise the next morning, and then everything would be okay again. But only for the day, when the sun would set, it would return, leaving him empty.

He counted along with the clock. It was a routine in his life, waiting for the clock to strike midnight, when he felt as if his life had ended.
Five…
Four…
Three…
Two…
One.

Not a second too late. He smothered himself with his pillow, trying to keep his tears from escaping underneath his closed lids. It didn’t work. Like every night, at exactly midnight, he was drained of all happy emotions, replaced by misery, emptiness. There was nothing left for him; he didn’t want to feel this way anymore. He didn’t want to feel anymore.

Of course, when they were children, this was all he dreamed about. Reaching the top, getting everything he ever dreamt of, making it to number one. But then they only thought of the fame, the money, and their music. It was the most important thing to them, and it still is.

They just never thought of what it would be like years later. His friends didn’t have it as hard; they had someone next to them nearly every night, but not him. He was different. He liked to be alone, but he never said he wanted to be alone forever. Fear filled up inside of him. He was going to feel this every night for the rest of his life. Fame was a curse. Because of that curse, he would never be able to find the one, his one, who could fill the emptiness inside of him.

He stopped wondering why he would feel this was at night, or why it would disappear when the sun started to rise. He didn’t want to know why, he didn’t want to ask. He couldn’t sleep at night, his empty tears kept him awake; he had no way of keeping them away anymore, because nothing could help. He hadn’t confided in anyone about how he felt, he longed for the times when he still could.

Now all he does is keep on smiling, hoping no one can see through his mask, and it worked for the most part. People believed his act.

There had been times where his twin would try to talk to him; it always ended in an argument. He wanted to spill his heart to his brother, his other half, but it wasn’t possible. He could never find the words. He spent his days in hotel rooms, his curtains closed as he hid away from the world. Or in his bunk on the tour bus, pretending to be asleep while he let his tears fall when no one was watching.

All of those things were still easy for him, it was the time where he could be what this world had made him out to be, it got harder when they were performing. He felt the pressure with all the people staring up at him… He didn’t want them to know. They would stop loving him… He couldn’t take that.

He never thought of this as a big secret, it was his hidden life. He was far from perfect, and now, he was far from happy. He sat up in his king-sized bed, glancing over at the other side. Sometimes he would make believe that she was there, her dark flowing hair covering her face just a bit as she slept peacefully, a small smile on her lips because of her sweet dreams. And he would look down at her, smiling because, for once in his life, he was truly happy.

He would be there when she wakes up, kiss her lips gently and hold her closer to him, not wanting to move away from her. They would stay there until they broke down the door, looking for them. When she would laugh, it would be the most beautiful sound in the world.

That was what he dreamt about, but the chances that he would find her, wasn’t even possible. No such girl existed in a place except for his lonely mind. His legs swung to the side of the bed, landing on the floor with a gentle thud. He stood up and walked towards the glass doors, placing a shaking hand on the cold glass, staring at the rain outside.

He pulled open the doors and walked out. The rain was pouring hard, soaking him immediately. He smiled humorlessly. He knew if someone saw him now, they would know that he was crying, that was why he liked the rain. No one would see his pain now; he doesn’t need to smile because it was in the dead of night. This was his life, Bill Kaulitz, the famous rockstar. His so called ‘life’ perfect, the dream that became his worst nightmare. He fell to his knees, his hands in his hair.

He wanted nothing more than to stop crying, scream as loud as he could. He hated his life, he hated what he had become, and he never wanted to live this way. He could feel his clothes starting to stick to his numb skin, he didn’t care. He looked up at the sky, to see the dark blue turn to light gray. It was getting lighter, and yet, he wasn’t feeling any better.

He would do anything to make the emptiness go away, he was desperate. Thinking back to all the things he’s seen, he ran into his bathroom, turning on the lights, heading to the cupboard. They’ve been in the hotel for three days now; he knew where to find the thing he needed.

He stuck his hand into the cupboard, digging deeper than most people would care to look, until he found the one thing he couldn’t live without. He didn’t have the strength to smile, but he felt a sense of security when he held the cold metal in his hands.

He rested on his kneed, extending his arm in front of him, mentally preparing him for it, his lips twitched slightly. His hand moved slowly to the exposed skin on his already scarred wrist, making light marks. He closed his eyes, opening them seconds later, deciding where he would make yet another scar. Making his decision, he started to push the metal against his skin, winching as he felt the skin being parted.

He felt no pain, only disappointment. A year ago, he would have never thought of doing this to himself, but that was before it started. All he is now is an empty shell with a fake smile plastered upon his lips. There was nothing left of the person he was, that boy was dead and gone. And only one thing could bring him back; the impossible. This was the side of his story no one could ever see, his life, his career, everything would be ruined in the blink of an eye.

He smiled as the negative, bitter emotions were drained from his body, filled with the pleasure that the blade brought him, it was what he lived for. He was afraid of doing that his entire life, but something about it, made it hard to stop. The scars didn’t matter. Nobody saw them, nobody cared. They wouldn’t be able to stop him if they did.

His head shot up when he heard his alarm go off, for the first time in a while; the band had an early show. He stood up, placing the blade in the place where he had to retrieve it again later. Stripping down, he ran cold water over the one cut he had made; it was all he needed to make him feel better.

It took him half an hour to get dressed and get his hair done, only then did he begin to feel the burning sensation of his shame. He didn’t care it was worth it. He slipped on a jacket, making sure it was covered. There was a knock on his door, he didn’t need to speak, it opened seconds later. “David said you need to hurry up.” Tom said in a cheerful tone to Bill’s back. He nodded.

Rubbing his wrist bitterly, he slipped a pair of sunglasses over his swollen, red eyes, hiding his soul from the world of vultures that awaited him outside of this room. He ran a hand through his hair and walked to the door, swallowing his emotions like a bitter pill. He smiled widely, looking cheerful and skipped down the hall to face his friends and fans alike. Because that was the Bill they wanted to see.