6 STRINGS. [ TOM KAULITZ ]

- 04

✮ ✮ ✮

LOW TOLERANCE.

—

"NO, IT'S *HÄSSLICH." Bill explained, accentuating the 'ä'.
[Y/N] repeated it, obviously with a thicker accent. Her pronunciation wasn't the best.

*hässlich; ugly.

She and Bill stood at the dessert table, [Y/N] out of her red polo work shirt and in a formal-fitting black gown. Bill himself in a graphic tee, as usual, essentially in his usual clothes with the exception of a striped suit blazer he added to further fit the formal theme.

Georg, in a normal black suit, was off chatting it away with a worker from another store. Leaving his plus one, Bill, to chat it up with [Y/N].
She didn't mind, though her original plan to collect food on a plate and leave after an hour was thrown away.

Bill commented on the raisin cookies, which he found absolutely disgusting, claiming they were unsightly. Which led to a short German lesson, Bill laughing at [Y/N]'s poor pronunciation.

"German is too hard." [Y/N] sighed, letting herself be helped onto a nearby seating area. By now, the cookies she was gulfing down were to balance out the amount of drinks she'd chugged.
It was helping, though not enough before the tipsiness started to kick in.

Bill laughed at [Y/N]'s low-tolerance, though kicked a small trash bin at her feet once she started to gag.

[Y/N] didn't imagine herself as someone to casually hang out with a rockstar, sure, it didn't feel real at first.
She didn't have the slightest idea who he even was, but seeing him and his band's name everywhere helped her confirm this 'Tokio Hotel' was the real deal after all.

She was used to hanging around them by now, having met and served a few celebrities in her time. – And she'd admit, her friend's friends were fun to hang around.
[Y/N] would definitely like to befriend Bill though.

Bill noticed the metal ball hidden behind [Y/N]'s teeth when she talked, his head cocking to the side as he pondered on whether it was what he thought it was.
"Do you have a piercing, [Y/N]?" He practically blurted, throwing their conversation out the window.

[Y/N] looked at him quizzically, but nodded. "I have 6," She replied, taking a swig of her drink.

"Four," She counted, revealing two earrings on each ear. "Five," She added, sticking her tongue out.
It was a small gold ball, sitting further back on her tongue, making it not so visible.

"— And six." She pointed to her stomach, a simple bellybutton piercing only slightly visible behind the tight fabric of her dress.

Bill listened intently, smiling as he stuck his tongue out before taking another bite of his cookie.
He had a similar piercing, only silver and sitting farther up his tongue. "Twins." He smiled.

[Y/N] laughed, the sudden movement making her dizzy.
The amount of drinks she'd had started to kick in, the room muffling in sound and her vision blurring slightly.

[Y/N] was already drunk to begin with, only worsening. Bill confiscated the drink from her hand, patting her back as she started to feel sicker by the second.

"Sorry," She muttered, leaning on Bill's side as the singer laughed. As someone who dealt with nights alone, [Y/N] certainly knew better than to get drunk with no ride home.
Though she let herself get carried away in the moment, her pent up stress heaving led the way to the bar.

"What happened here?"
The two looked up, a confused Georg standing in front of them, drink in hand.

"[Y/N] 's throwing up, — Like out of nowhere." Bill replied, "I told her to slow-"
"Oh-" Georg flinched at [Y/N]'s sudden movement, she'd passed out cold.