6 STRINGS. [ TOM KAULITZ ]

- 09

✮ ✮ ✮

SILENCE AGAIN.

—

"YOU'RE QUITTING?" She repeated, her mind racing with confusion.

It was 10:58 P.M. on a Monday, the day meant to start fresh, retune all instruments and reorganize the storage.
She'd done all that herself, Georg having not shown up for work.

Yet he was here, an hour after closing, dropping the news like a nuclear bomb and letting [Y/N]'s world crumble before her.

Georg nodded, and he wouldn't deny he was sad to say it. "My manager," He explained, "He say too many fans know where I work."
[Y/N] nodded her head understandingly, pacing around behind the desk, obviously dazed.

"Okay.." She said, sitting back in her chair as she tried to keep herself together for the most part.
It was safe to say in the past month they spent working together, a bond was formed — even if Georg said otherwise.

Unclipping the name tag on his shirt, he placed in on the counter.

[Y/N] stared at it, the store's logo engraved on it, his name misspelled 'George' that she and his bandmates made fun of him for.
She took a deep breath, standing up. "Well," She said, "I better get to work."

Georg looked at her apologetically, with pity even. [Y/N] hated that look, as if he were to know he was her only friend.
Georg reeled her in for a hug, to which she was surprised, standing there with her eyes wide.

Though it didn't take long to return it, hugging him tightly. In that moment all good memories came flooding, and the realization that it was all over as well.
She wasn't sure what to say at the moment, but Georg beat her to it anyway.

"I'll miss you," He said, motioning to the shop, "— And this job."
[Y/N] smiled widely, "I understood that!" She exclaimed, making Georg laugh.

"We're still friends you know?" She added, "Text me.. and stuff."
Georg was smiling widely, shaking his head as he pat [Y/N]'s shoulder. "I will."

"Good." She replied, nodding slowly.
"Good." Georg repeated. "I leave now." He slowly walked backwards, "Don't want to loiter." He added.
[Y/N] laughed, sparing Georg a small wave before he turned around and walked out.

When the bell hung on the door announced his leave, she sighed heavily, collapsing back in her chair.

Tapping her finger on the desk, she bit her lip nervously before reaching under the desk, grabbing one last thing.
She placed the 'NOW HIRING' sign back on the counter, as well as set out the blank applications.

[Y/N] grabbed her bag, reaching for the remote to turn off the T.V. before going to turn off the lights.
When she did, the shop was silent.

No Georg telling her goodnight, just silence.

—

Merely a week after Georg's quitting, the shop was busier than ever to her absolute demise.
A quarter being fans with the impression that Georg still worked there, and that the twins would show up sooner or later as well.

Also to her demise, they were wrong. Needless to say it was driving her crazy, being alone and all.
She'd been so accustomed to being alone before a month and a half of having company, she was too bitter to go back to the loneliness she hated so much.
"He's not here." She groaned, "Are you going to buy that or not?"

The customer looked at her bitterly, knocking over the intricate pick display before storming out.
Flipping her off behind her back, [Y/N] laid her head flat on the counter for a while. Just to think.

The bell hung at the door rung, [Y/N] internally screamed.
"We're closed." She yelled, her voice muffled.

"It's 2 in the afternoon." A familiar voice replied.

[Y/N] looked up, rolling her eyes at the god awful smirk that greeted her.
"What?" She said.

"Are you not happy to see me?" Tom asked, tilting his head.
[Y/N] glared at him, "I don't know, I just lost my only employee and he disappears for a week." She replied. "Doesn't call, doesn't text."

Tom looked at her, his expression one of confusion.
[Y/N] kept ranting, "Is this what he does? I thought we were friends you know, I really did."

Tom's eyes widened for a split second, shaking his head before leaning on the counter. "Okay.." He said slowly, "You fire Georg?"

[Y/N] shook her head, "No, he quit. I'm sorry, I'm just—"
"I know." Tom interrupted. "You haven't been to work, by the way."

[Y/N] broke a small smile, she'd say the first in days. "Of course you would know." She replied, "Well, I quit."
Tom's eyes were wide again, "You did?"

She didn't. Though she didn't have the will or strength to tell Tom she'd gone out of her way to only work at the club when she knew he was performing.
For one, he'd tease her about it, which was a quality of his she found while not endearing, egoistic.
Another reason being that line of work really hit her hard after Georg's resigning, and there was not much more to say other than she was not proud of what she did.

Quitting would be a redeeming way to go about it, but her paycheck from Guitar Center wasn't looking too promising.
Simply working another corporate job was much too tiring in her opinion, the odds were not in her favor of leaving and she knew it.

She'd just have to suck it up.

But she wasn't a liar.
"No." She admitted, "I've just been too busy.. running this shop by myself."
Tom nodded understandingly.
"You aren't here to check up on me," [Y/N] observed, "What do you want?"

The guitarist scoffed, "We're friends, can I not check up on you?"

"Not according to Bill," [Y/N] replied, "You always want something."
Which was true on behalf of him being a chatterbox the night of the company's party a few weeks ago.

"Bill has not the biggest brain," Tom said, "I have heart too."
[Y/N] laughed, lifting herself up from lying on the desk. "Well, I'm good. Thank you."

She looked at the spilled display of picks, flipping it right side up before beginning to organize them again.
"Somebody did not like the blues next to greens?" Tom joked, [Y/N] rolling her eyes again.

"Georg," Tom said, "He drop his phone, doesn't work."
[Y/N] sighed of both relief and frustration, she was a little frustrated at herself for having such little faith in Georg. Though she smiled knowing he didn't just forget about her.
"Oh.." She said quietly, "Isn't he rich? Just buy a new one."

"He's lazier than Bill," Tom muttered, "— And Bill just sleeps all day and eats McDonal—"

"Are you Tom Kaulitz?" A voice interrupted, Tom turning around quickly, startled.
He looked back at [Y/N], who quickly walked to the other side of the store, not wanting to involve herself with another crazy fan.

"Umm. No?"