The Only Difference Between Bill Kaulitz and Brendon Urie Is Press Coverage

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Here in Montreal, a beautiful city, a city I currently loved for its awesomeness.

Until Bill opened his mouth.

“C’est magnifique! C’est…” he struggled to think of a word. “Uh… c’est magnifique!”

“Bill, I’d stop before you hurt yourself,” Tom said, laughing. Bill sent him a death glare and pouted.

We were currently at a French restaurant. And no one spoke French, besides myself. So I had, let me see, twelve people who were currently looking at menus who didn’t know what the hell they were looking at. I was babysitting grown men.

“Oh, look, look, escargot, that looks interesting!” Brendon said, pointing excitedly at his menu. Ryan looked at him.

“Should we get it?”

“I highly discourage that, boys,” I said, biting my lip.

“Why?” Brendon said, looking confused.

“Do you guys honestly not know what escargot is?”

They both shook their heads.

“Escargot is snails.”

Brendon made a horrified face and looked down at his menu. “I don’t think I’ll have that…”

“All right, Tara, you’re going to need to help us out here, we’re all sort of lost,” Tom said, shaking his head. I found it a little bit funny how the maitre-d had looked at Tom with one of those ‘I’m better than you’ looks just because of Tom’s clothes. How shallow and pathetic.

“Okay, let me see… don’t get bouillabaisse, I’ve had it before, and it is foul.”

“Can’t you just tell us what we should get?” Trace asked, eyebrow raised.

“Oh, fine, do it the easy way.”

I informed them all of what looked good and what was, in my experience, inedible. We got our food, and I had to stifle a laugh when Bill got his plate. He looked at it with a huge look of disappointment on his face, like a kid who hadn't gotten the exact toy he wanted on Christmas.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“It’s just… it’s so small! I may as well have an empty plate, there isn’t enough food on this to fill me up!”

Tom snickered, Gustav nodded a bit in agreement, and Mason, who was on my right (Bill was on my left) stared at his plate. “You know, he has a point.”

“Just shut up and eat, you guys, we can get some ice cream afterwards, I saw a Dairy Queen a few blocks down.”

Bill made a happy face and started to eat.

~+The Venue+~

“Ryan, give me my phone or I’ll throw my shoe at you during the show! I want to call Jeni!” I chased him around the venue, trying to maneuver my way around the things he was running around.

Stupid skinny jerk.

“What, you mean those frilly little small things you put on your feet and call shoes? Those can’t do any real damage!” he stood across from me on the opposite side of a table, an evil grin on his face.

“Says you, I have heels here!”

“I’m not that scared, your aim is so pathetic, I think you’d end up hitting Brendon instead. Maybe he wouldn’t like you then if you did!”

My jaw dropped. “Oh hell no, it is on!”

I ran after him full speed. He tried to run, but I was thoroughly pissed this time. I ran into him, trying to reach my phone. He held it above my head, taunting me.

“Too short, Tara!”

Bill came up behind him, his hair half fixed up. I would have laughed, he looked hilarious. “Too short, Ryan,” he said, taking my phone out of his hand and giving it to me.

“Thank you, love. Now go and finish fixing your cheveux.”

His eyebrows stitched together in confusion. “Mein was?”

“Your hair, now go!”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed like a diva, walking back into the dressing room. I sat down on one of the chairs and scrolled down to Jeni’s name on my contact list. I pressed the call button and put the phone to my ear.

She picked up on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hey Jeni.”

“OH MY GOD HI TARA! I miss you, love, what’s up?”

“Eh, nothing much, just babysitting my husband and his friends and family.”

“Sucks for you. How’s my darling Georg?”

I smiled. “He got eaten by a wildebeest.”

I could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Haha, very funny. Oh my god, guess what!”

“You flew to Mars and civilized it.”

“Ha, no. I got the part of Christine!”

I screamed loudly. “Oh mein gott, oh mein gott, no way! This is so amazing.”

“It’s so cool, I know, but practice is brutal. I have never slept better after a practice in my life. It’s pretty cool, though, because this is like the longest running show on Broadway, and I’m the star. I’m going to get so much notoriety for this, I’m so excited!”

“You want me to tell Georg or do you want the honors?”

“Oh, you can tell him, but make him call me after he finds out or the second he has enough time.”

“Sweet, I can just imagine his face now.”

“So can I.”

“Yep.”

I heard her sigh. “Okay, I can hear it in your voice, what’s wrong?”

Dammit. “It’s just… it’s Tom.”

There was a very long pause. “Tara, I love you, but if you slept with him again-”

“Okay I’m going to stop you right there and tell you you’re insane.”

“Fair enough. Now what’s wrong with Tomi?”

“He…” I bit my lip and looked around. No one was around. “He’s about ninety-nine point nine percent positive he’s still in love with Bea.”

I pictured her jaw dropping. I expected her to drop the phone. “Oh my lord in my heaven. What does Gussi think about this?”

“He doesn’t know. And the thing is, I think Bea feels the same, because during the show in Chicago, she and Tom kind of… yeah.”

“This is like a soap opera, you never have to watch Days of Our Lives again.”

“Like I watched that show in the first place. But Jeni, this is major! I heard Tom literally and honestly crying about it last night!”

“Tom, crying? Man.”

“I know, so, that’s why I’m afraid to give him advice about it, because I can’t say ‘go after he’ because that would hurt Gussi’s feelings and I can’t say ‘Give it up, you had your run with her and it didn’t work’ because that would hurt his feelings.”

“How bad is it, though?”

“He said it hurts him so bad he can feel it physically.”

“Oh my god, that’s serious. I’ve felt that before, it sucks really bad.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“There isn’t much you can do, hun. You just kind of need to let things unfold on their own. Hey, I have to go. I’m going to be late for practice. Don’t worry about it to much and say hi to everybody for me, okay?”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She hung up. I pressed the end call button and went on a search for Georg.

I found him in the dressing room, searching for something in a bag. “Hey Georg!”

“Hallo Tara. What’s up?”

“Guess who I just talked to.”

He looked up at me. “Jeni?”

I nodded.

He stood up and walked over to me. “What did she say, what did she say?”

“She got the part of Christine in The Phantom of the Opera.”

His face lit up like a twenty-watt light bulb. “That’s so good, I’m so proud of her!”

“Yeah. And she also asked me to tell you to call her when you have a lot of time, but not right now because she has practice.”

He nodded. “Thanks for telling me, Tara.”

I smiled. “What are friends for?”

~+~

Okay, I officially love working at the merch table. These French-speaking Canadian people were like the ultimate amazing. They kept gushing about Panic and Metro’s songs, most of the girls giggling over Mason, Trace, Brendon, and Ryan.

Most of them, however, talked incessantly about Tok, chattering away about Bill’s hair, Tom’s clothes, Gustav’s mysteriousness, as they called it, and Georg’s all-around sweetness. I loved it.

There was one girl, her name was, ironically, Sophie, who I got alone great with. She had a strange sort of female fauxhawk and bright red hair. I had to restrain myself from giving her a backstage pass, she seemed extremely eager to meet Tom. I knew that if I did give her one, he’d either brood and pay her no attention or revert back to his old ways, and god knows I did not want that.

That night after the show, lying in the bunk with Bill, I couldn’t help but think about Tom. No, not in the sexy kind of way, just thinking about him and Bea as well. When I got right down to it, I couldn’t deny that they were right for each other. They may have brought out their old selves when they were together, but it was just them, so I couldn’t see the harm in it. And thinking about them and their old selves, I couldn’t help but feel a want to be just like Tom and Bea with Bill right there.

But I restrained myself. Frankly, he still smelled like a sweaty guy (which, I don’t know if you’ve ever smelled, is just horrible) and he was exhausted. He needed sleep, and I may have been his wife, but sleep gets higher priority right about now.

I leaned my head on his shoulder and conflicted with what I should tell Tom.

Looking out for a family member was not easy.

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