1000 Stars Are Passing By

Will’s POV

“Will, get your ass out here!” I heard Sophie yell from my hotel room door.

I groaned and rolled out of bed, looking at the clock. It was only seven in the morning, and our signing wasn’t till two.

She placed an outfit on my bed, including extensions, fake piercings, colored contacts.

“I don’t want to be Mike today,” I whined, running a hand through my hair.

I had different names for each getup she made me wear. The goody-goody getup was named Steven, this insane scene hardcore one was Mike, and usually we just switched it up here and there with different hair colors or piercings or clothes.

Sophie already had her hair done; the long blond extensions run through with pink leopard streaks. The top half, her natural shorter layers, were teased out as high as dads. Her contacts were red-colored, like a deadly serpent.

She handed me a picture of how she wanted me to do my hair.

“I expect you to be done in forty five minutes,” she demanded.

“Yes, your majesty,” I whispered as she walked away.

She turned around and gave me that look that tore holes into my skin.

“Bitch,” I muttered when she was gone.

I put in my fake contacts. Bright green today, they didn’t look half bad.

“Will are you hungry?” I heard Uncle Tom call from the door.

“Uh...yeah.” I looked at my strong-built, dreadlock-covered uncle. He was so cool. Like seriously, he acted like my dad most of the time. I was always hanging out with him and Aunt Bea. They were the coolest adults in the world. Whatever happened to my dad, I don’t know.

“Alright. I’m going on a Starbucks run,” he said and left.

I reached for the liquid eyeliner and tried to apply it, but it didn’t work.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. I could never put on eyeliner. I always had to have dad put it on.... Not that I didn’t love dad, he was just...weird.

I left my room and went to his. He was sitting up in bed, fully dressed, hair and makeup done, and he was watching something on TV.

“Was ist das?” I asked.

He turned to me and smiled. “Just some movie I used to watch a lot when I was younger,” and before I could see it again he’d turned it off.

He saw the eyeliner in my hand and laughed, but it was short, and almost bitter. “Do you need some help?”

I nodded and he got up off the bed and took the eyeliner out of my hands.

“Close your eyes,” he said, his accent thick.

I felt the cool liquid against my eyes. His hands were so gentle and soft. There was just something about him that I never understood, and maybe never would.

He finished fast and I looked in the mirror. It was perfect.

“How do you do that?”

He smiled mysteriously. “Decades of practice.”

He didn’t look my dad. He didn’t. He looked like he was twenty, not mid-thirties.

He turned to his closet and looked through it and took out a leather jacket.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I asked you something?”

“Depends,” he wouldn’t even look at me.

“Uh...nevermind..” I walked away, feeling hurt.

“Will!” I heard him call and I turned around. “I’m sorry son. I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah dad, I love you too,” I replied, still hurt, and left to do my hair.

Mom, where are you?

I sat next to Sophie, who had a cocky smirk on her face as we sat at the table, thousands of fans holding copies of a Reverse Gravity CD.

There were screaming girls; some dressed to look like Sophie. Sophie Kaulitz just had to be the epitome of scene fashion these days. There were girls with shirts that had my picture on it, scene girls that loved me, wanted to fuck me, wanted to do anything to me. And there were some people, mostly older, but seem teens wanting to be cool, who were wearing Tokio Hotel shirts. Dad and Uncle Tom were with us of course.

I wanted to stand up on that table, tell them all to go away. I didn’t want this, but I didn’t have a choice.

Maybe I could...sometime...tell them that this was not me. Go off on my own into my own music career, without Sophie controlling my life.

“You say anything stupid, you die,” she whispered to me and then turned back to the crowd and flashed a fake smile full of big, fake teeth. She muttered something under her breath in French.

You know, she really did aggravate me. Speaking French all the time. Dad and Uncle Tom spoke German all the time. Aunt Bea could understand most of it and me and Adelaide spoke fluent German too. She was the only one in the family that wouldn’t.

“You’re so arrogant,” I’d told her.

“I’ll be my own person, Will. I don’t care if my dad was a big German star. I’m not German, I live in America, I can speak what I want,” she declared.

I wanted to slap her so bad. But if I did I’d get told on, get in trouble. Yet every time she did something to me it was okay, she was never a bad girl.

The barrier was pulled back as soon as the clocks read two and a herd of screaming fangirls, scene kids, and lots of guys too crowded around the table.

I feel a hand cramp coming on..