Dance With Me in This Rain

Waking up the next morning was dreadful. Clara, the boys, and myself had talked til God knows how late last night.
My eyes felt like two heavy bags of sand. They simply refused to open, and I kept rolling around in bed, covering my face with a pillow. Tom was the one who had woken me up and I nearly smacked him for it. I wasn't a morning person, as I've said before.
Once my eyes had finally managed to open and saw the brightness of the sun pouring into the room, I noticed Tom looking down at me with a devilish grin.
"Morning, beautiful!" He greeted loudly, which shocked my tympanic membrane.
I rubbed my forehead, and groaned, as the sunlight was unbearable in my eyes. "Why are you up so early?" I asked groggily.
"It's noon," He replied, scrunching his face.
"Early," I moaned, grabbing the pillow and stuffing it up to my face again.
I heard a muffled laugh, and felt the pillow fly off my face and land next to me on the bed. "It's not early. People are usually up at this hour."
I groaned again, and turned on my back so that I was facing him. "Why are you up?" I repeated the question I had previously asked.
He laughed. "David wants me and the guys to be at the studio by one. You know, to discuss band stuff."
I nodded, and slowly, my grogginess was fading. I sighed out, causing some of the hair that was all over my face to fly up. Tom half-smiled and brushed the hair away from my face with his index finger.
"You're pretty," He said in a childish voice, which didn't keep me from laughing.
"So are you," I answered with a wink.
He laughed and grabbed my arm in attempt to drag my lazy ass up off the bed. I whined, pushing my weight down so that he couldn't.
"Jeez, you're heavy," He let out a groan, letting go of my arm.
"You calling me fat, Kaulitz?" I asked with a gasp.
He rolled his eyes and waved his hand. "Look, whatever. Go back to sleep. But please, please, be ready when me and the guys get here."
"When are you guys gonna be back?"
"A couple hours. And when we get back, you and Clara better be dressed so that we can get to the party."
I furrowed my eyebrows. "Wow. Look at you being all demanding."
He frowned. "Bells, seriously."
"What? It's hot," I replied with a shrug.
Tom laughed and shook his head. "Freak."
I snorted in laughter and blew him a kiss. "Love you too, sweetums."
"Oh God," He said, pretending to choke. "Love you, pookie."
I burst out in laughter. "Okay, I get it. Pet names are not for us."
"Damn right, Pumpkin Pie."
"Tom! Seriously, aren't you supposed to go?" I said, still laughing. "Go on, before the guys barge in here and see me in my jammies."
"Yeah, okay. Hey, if I'm late, I'll just tell Dave it was your fault." He grinned.
"Perfect. See ya," I said, grinning back with a wave.
He blew me a kiss in the most girly way imaginable and yelled out, "Love you, sweetcakes!" before disappearing out the door.
I laughed to myself, and settled in bed.
At least I can sleep for a little while longer, I thought.
I closed my eyes and prepared to drift off peacefully, but a sudden noise made my eyelids fly open.
The door to the room had opened, and I heard someone clearing their throat.
"Bella?" It was Clara. "You're awake, I know."
I sighed, closing my eyes for just two seconds, then I opened them again. I sat up lazily in bed.
Clara laughed. "Was it my normally wild imagination running, or did your boyfriend just call you sweetcakes?" She questioned, lifting a brow at me.
I half-smiled. "What do you want, Clara?"
She grinned, and came over to sit on the edge of my bed. "Are you guys going by pet names now or what?"
I rolled my eyes. "Did you come in here just to ask me that?"
She made a thoughtful face. "No. I just wanted to see what you were doing and to get your opinion about something. But hearing Tom yell 'love you, sweetcakes' made my mind wander far."
I laughed. "He was just being....well, you know. Tom."
She nodded slowly. "I see. Yeah, that clears things."
"So what do you want my opinion on?" I asked, taking a scrunchie from the nightstand and fixing my hair up into a messy bun.
She crossed her legs. "A few outfits I picked out to wear to the party."
"Oh," I said, with a nod. "Bring them here. I wanna see."
"Kay," She said, before bouncing up off the bed and running out the door in glee.
I rubbed my tired eyes, and pushed a few annoying hairs that kept falling over my eyes.
"Alrighty, I'm back," Clara sang, holding some clothes on wire hangers in both her hands.
I sat criss-crossed in the middle of the bed, now interested.
"Kay, so I have these shirts and these pants," She said, holding them up, as she took them off the hangers. Then she paused, suddenly looking around the room. "Wait, do you have your clothes picked out already?"
I shrugged. "Nope."
"So you don't know what you're going to wear for tonight?" She questioned in a disapproving tone.
"Clara, it's not that big a deal. It's just clothes. I can pick them out in a second."
She pursed her lips, and let out a sigh. "Great. Not only do I have to worry about what I'm going to wear, I have to worry about you now, too."
I rolled my eyes. "Clara, just show me the damn clothes."
She shook her head in disapproval. "Fine. We'll get back to you later."
She started picking out random shirts, and laying them on the bed. Then she matched each of them with individual pairs of pants.
"What do you think about these?" She asked, resting her hands on her hips and examining the items.
"I like them," I answered.
She made a face. "But which one do I wear?"
I bit the corner of my lip as my eyes scanned the outfits briefly. "This one," I said, pointing to a pair of light blue jeans and a white shirt dress, which had black butterflies decorating the thin fabric.
Clara looked thoughtful, as she took the shirt dress and held it up in front of her.
"Oh, and instead of the light blue, go with these black skinny jeans. Cause then it matches with the black butterflies," I suggested, holding the skinny jeans up next to the shirt dress.
"Hmm," She said, with her fingers stroking her chin. "Interesting."
I smiled. "You like?"
"I love," She replied, with a grin. "Why the hell did I match this with the light blues?"
"What were you thinking?" I joked, laughing.
"Alright, so now that the outfit is picked out, help me with the shoes."
"Oh, that's easy. Use those black flats that have the cute little bows on them. Flats always work with skinnies." I shrugged.
She nodded slowly. "Love it. I should've thought of that."
"Yes, you should have. Cause then we wouldn't be having this conversation and I'd be sleeping peacefully."
"Oh, come on. You helped me big, girl. Now, it's time to see what you're going to wear."
My eyes widened. "Oh, no no. I already told you, I can pick them out in a second. Could I just get back to sleeping?"
"Nonsense. You help me, I help you. That's the deal," She replied, waving her hand.
"What deal?" I asked, confused.
Clara looked at me impatiently. "Where are your clothes?"
I sighed and pointed to the wooden closet across the room. She glided towards it, opening the double doors, which revealed all of my dull clothes. I hadn't gone shopping in a long time.
"Hon, when was the last time you went shopping?" Clara inquired, scanning my belongings.
I scrunched my face. "I honestly have no idea."
Clara spun around, facing me. "Translation: a really really long time."
I smiled nervously. "I guess so."
She laughed. "Tom doesn't say anything about this....neo-hippyish style you got going on?"
I shrugged, sitting back, as I rested my palms on the mattress. "He doesn't really care what I wear."
She smiled. "That's nice. But the question is, do you care?"
I arched my brows. "About what I wear or what Tom wears?"
"What you wear."
"No, not really. Why are you even asking me that? Don't you know me at all?" I asked with a laugh.
"I do know you, Bells. I know how tomboyish you've always been. Hell, first time I met you, you had on a ball cap and ripped man jeans."
"Hey! Those were girl jeans!" I protested, pointing to her.
"Right," She answered sarcastically. "Let's just pretend you bought them off a girl's rack at the mall and not at your neighbor's garage sale."
I frowned. "Timmy was nice enough to sell me those pants at a reasonable price. Plus, they were comfortable."
"Of course they were comfortable. They were man jeans!" She repeated with a 'duh' look on her face.
I sighed, hanging my head back. "I just want to go to sleep."
"There'll be plenty of time for that at night," She waved me off, and went back to examining my clothes.
"Really, Clara, I don't see the need to pick out an outfit right now. I'm not gonna get all dressed up to impress anybody, anyways. Tom doesn't care about my clothes."
"Yeah, and I bet he just cares about what's underneath them," She murmured with a small laugh.
I growled playfully, and took a pillow, chucking it fiercely at her. She squealed, chucking it back at me with much less force.
"Izabella, it's simply frightening how low maintenance you are."
I stuck my tongue out at her. "Shut up."
"At least you're classy," She stated sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Alright, look. If you don't wanna pick an outfit out for yourself, fine. But I'm picking one for you because that's what friends do. They help one another in their times of need."
I threw my hands in the air. "You don't-"
"La, la, la. I ain't listening to a word you're saying!" She began singing loudly, as she covered her ears with her fingers.
I groaned, stuffing my face in my hands. "God, why must I suffer this way?"
"I'm sorry, did you say something? I'm not listening," She continued, picking out random clothes out of the closet and thrusting them on the bed.
"What the hell did I do to deserve this?"

---

"Bella? Bells, are you ready? What the hell are you doing in there?"
The incessant knocking on the door only increased my nervous state. You wouldn't believe what Clara had me try on. It wasn't my clothes. No, no. All hers.
Uncomfortable was merely an understatement for what I was feeling.
Embarressment? Yeah, sure. Asphyxiated? You could say that.
How could Clara even own a pair of jeans this tight? Good Lord, I could feel the fabric picking at my skin with each tiny little movement I made.
I looked at myself in the mirror for what seemed like the hundredth time.
My hair was straight, going down my shoulders. I was wearing black eyeliner with blue eye shadow, a light touch of blush and lipgloss.
Not only did she feel the need to dress me up like Slutty Barbie but she also decided to do my makeup. How wonderful.
The shirt I was using wasn't as tight as the pants, though it was a bit low cut. It was red. Nothing too flashy, like with glitter or sequins.
The good news was that I got to wear my favorite ballerina flats, which went great with anything, even these skanky pants Clara had practically manhandled me to wear.
"Bella?! Did you fall asleep in there? Why aren't you coming out?" Clara screeched, now pounding on the door.
"Clara, you're fucking killing me here!" I yelped back in between gritted teeth, sighing as my reflexion stared back at me from the mirror.
"Izabella Christine, get your ass out here now!"
I groaned. "I don't wanna."
"Bella, c' mon! The guys are gonna be here any minute. Could you stop being so goddam fussy?!"
"I am not being fussy!"
"Sounds like you're being fussy," She chimed. "Now open up!"
I let out one big sigh. I closed my eyes before suddenly hauling the door open, revealing my outfit.
"Just so you know, I'm gonna wear my hoodie. I don't care what you say!" I announced before Clara could think or say anything about what she had put me in.
Her mouth dropped. Literally.
"Bella.....have you looked at yourself in the mirror?" She asked slowly, backing away a bit as she scanned me.
I felt my right leg twitch, and I made a face. "Yeah. Why? Is there a rip in these pants?" I asked concerningly, twisting my body and trying to see the back part of the pants.
She laughed. "Bells, you look hot."
I paused, regaining my posture. "What?"
She nodded. "You look hot. And I don't mean that in a lesbian sort of way. I mean, best friend to best friend, you look outrageously hot."
I pursed my lips. "Are you kidding? I can barely feel my legs in these things. I can feel my veins clogging as we speak."
She scoffed. "Oh, don't be such a drama queen! You look amazing!"
I looked down at myself. "I don't feel amazing."
"Oh, well that's because you're seeing yourself from your point of view," She explained, waving me off. "Trust me on this one, honey. Tom is so gonna love this!"
"Really?" I asked, now feeling a bit less tense.
"Really. Are you sure you wanna use a hoodie? That'll sort of kill the outfit."
I rolled my eyes. "I don't care. If I have to wear this to the party, then my hoodie is coming with me."
Clara sighed and I went over to the closet, in search of my hoodie. I started rummaging through my clothes and realized it was no where.
I spun around. "Clara?"
Clara stood in the middle of the room, with her legs crossed at the ankle as she looked around, suddenly whistling to herself.
"Clara?" I repeated sternly, crossing my arms and glaring at her. "Where is my hoodie?"
She made a confused face. "Hoodie? What hoodie?"
I took a deep breath. "You know damn well what hoodie. Where did you put it?"
She laughed nervously, as she placed her hands on her hips. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Clara!"
"Alright!" She squealed, waving her arms. "It's under the bed."
My eyes went wide. "You stuffed my favorite hoodie under the bed?!"
She shrugged. "It's old and twice your size."
"That's exactly why it's my favorite," I answered crossly, as I got down on my knees and looked under the bed. Sure enough, my black From First To Last hoodie was under there, ready to gather dust.
I grabbed it and got up off the floor, brushing off the white dust.
"Mommy will never let the mean girl hurt you again," I said, rubbing it against my cheek. "You're safe now."
Then I turned to Clara, who stood in the exact same position, looking completely nonchalant. "And you are not. Touch my hoodie again and there will be some serious consequences."
"Are you kidding me?" She questioned, arching an eyebrow.
"Far from it, Smith."
She rolled her eyes and held her hands up. "Sorry. I won't do it again. There. Happy?"
"Ecstatic," I replied, slipping my hoodie on and zipping it all the way up.
Clara let out a small cry. "Your hottness is gone."
"Yeah, well I'm wearing the pants, aren't I?"
She shrugged. "Once a tomboy, always a tomboy."
"Damn straight," I answered with a smirk.
Before Clara could say anything else, the door to the room opened and in came Tom, followed closely by Bill, Georg and Gustav.
"You girls ready? Please tell me you're ready," Tom said, looking like he was about to cry.
"Ugh, relax, Kaulitz, we're ready," Clara replied crossly.
Gustav walked over to her. "You look beautiful," He stated, before kissing her and throwing an arm around her shoulder.
All of her madness washed away from her face, being replaced by a huge grin. "Aww. Thanks," She said, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"Wow, you're wearing your hoodie. Shocking," Tom joked with a smirk. I made a face at him.
"Your hair looks awesome. You should keep it straight more often," Bill commented with a smile. "But you look pretty with your normal hair, too. Just sayin'."
I smiled back with a small laugh. "If I can have the patience with a straightener again, then sure."
"Whoa, wait a minute," Tom chimed, eyeing my pants. "Are those yours?"
"No, they're Clara's. She's making me wear them," I replied with a roll of my eyes.
"You should see how she looks without the hoodie," Clara babbled, leaning her head against Gustav's.
I shot her a glare, and recieved an interesting look from Tom. He smirked. "How does she look under that hoodie?"
"Tom-" I was about to say, but was unfortunately interrupted.
"Hot like you've never seen, I can tell you that," Clara said with a wink. "And she has me to thank for that."
I clutched my hoodie tighter around myself. "Don't listen to her, Tom. She's just exaggerating as usual."
Tom laughed. "I wanna see. Take the hoodie off."
"No."
"Why not?" He complained.
"She's embarrassed," Clara stated.
"Hey Clara, remember that thing I was telling you about? You know, when I said that there will be some serious consequences?" My voice came out frighteningly sour.
Clara bit her lip. "Hey, Gustav. Let's get going. We'll meet ya'll in the car. Bye!" She said all too quick, before grabbing Gustav by the wrist and dragging him out of the room in the blink of an eye.
Bill and Georg looked at each other.
"Um, yeah. We'll see you guys at the car. Don't take too long," Bill announced, before motioning to Georg to follow him out of the room.
I hung my head low, and let out a sigh.
Tom smiled and wrapped his arms around me. "You okay?"
"I'm feeling a bit suffocated," I answered sincerely.
Tom immediately let go of me. "Oh, sorry."
"No, no. Not by you! By these." I pointed to my pants.
He laughed. "I wanna see your whole outfit."
"Ugh, come on. Let's go. You don't wanna keep your friend waiting," I started saying, trying to drag him along with me out of the room.
"Ah, Bells. Please let me see. I'm your boyfriend, I have to see."
"Tom, you're friend's waiting," I whined.
"Let him wait for a while. He knows I'm coming," He waved.
I laughed. "I'll tell you what. If you behave tonight, I'll let you see what's under here."
His eyeballs nearly flew out his sockets. "E-everything?"
I nodded, wiggling my eyebrows. "Everything."
His jaw dropped. "You're an evil monster. I have to be behave myself in order to see the good stuff?"
I shrugged. "Your choice, man."
"Okay, okay. I'll behave. Let's get going? Andreas awaits."
I smiled, and stuck my hand out for him to take. "Let's."