6 STRINGS. [ TOM KAULITZ ]

- 14

✮ ✮ ✮

PLANS FOR THE HOLIDAYS.

—

"WHAT HAPPEN TO YOU?" Bill laughed, [Y/N] looked grim and sick. Motion sick.

"Here's your lunch." She replied, placing the multiple Mcdonald's food bags on the table.

It was decided earlier that day, she'd never get in a car with Tom Kaulitz again.

—

[Y/N] looked up from her phone, Georg sitting opposite of her as they hid away in a corner booth.
Georg was kind enough to invite her to breakfast, feeling guilty about having practically cut contact with her after not having a phone for weeks.

Then again, [Y/N] was one of his friends, best friends almost. Certainly not on his bandmates' level, but she was up there.
Between working together once, now again, time was made for them to spend a lot of time together.

However, it also made time for her and Tom to spend time together. — And that was exactly what Georg was going to tease her about now that they'd finished their food.

"So you and Tom.." Georg smiled, [Y/N] rolled her eyes.

"— Are friends." She finished his sentence for him.
Georg shrugged, picking up his menu and deciding to let it go. "Whatever you say." He laughed.
[Y/N] kicked him under the table, "It's unprofessional," She rolled her eyes. "I'm a professional."

"Who taught you to say that?" Georg laughed, a table nearby whipping their heads to eye them due to their loudness.

"I don't need teaching." [Y/N] smiled, flipping her phone over to look at the time. "We should probably leave now anyway."

The time read 8:37 A.M.

Georg pulled up his sleeve, confirming the time on his wristwatch.
"You need to throw that thing away." [Y/N] commented, standing up and pulling on her coat.

"What?" Georg said, confused, "You don't like it?"
He pulled his sleeve back over his watch.

[Y/N] laughed lightly, "No one wears those anymore." She said, poking fun at Georg's old wristwatch.
She began to pull out her wallet, looking at the check on the table.

Georg immediately covered the total with his own money, smiling at her.
[Y/N] sighed, but smiled back with gratuity. The two began to exit the place, the wind immediately freezing [Y/N] the second they stepped outside.

"Any plans for Christmas?" [Y/N] said as they walked towards Georg's car.
Georg scoffed with a laugh, "Stay here." He replied, "With the twins. You?"

[Y/N] shrugged, "I'll probably work, the pay is really good on Holidays."

Georg looked at her, "Serious? You can't work on Christmas." He protested.

The girl only smiled at him, shrugging once again. "You're staying in L.A? What about your girlfriend?" She asked, silence filling the void between them.

She winced at her own question, catching the hint.
Lights were wrapped around the few decorative trees in the city, fake snow on roofs, and her sneakers crunching against the icy sidewalk.

"Sorry." She said, smiling sheepishly. Georg shook his head, fishing his keys out of his pocket as they neared the parking lot.
"It's fine," He said with a small laugh, "I'm over her anyway."

[Y/N] raised her eyebrows at his use of slang, but shrugged figuring he'd picked up a few sayings from her after all.
She waited for Georg to unlock the car, she could see her breath in front of her, smiling and drawing a heart on the window.

Due to the cold weather, the windows were icy and foggy, the slightest warm touch of her hands turning the fogged surface to water.
Finally, she pulled on the handle and immediately went inside, letting Georg blast the heat as she rubbed her hands together for warmth.

—

"You work in instruments shop." Tom raised an eyebrow, laughing a bit. "You should know this."

"I'm no expert." [Y/N] replied, putting her bag down and taking a seat on the floor next to him. They sat in an empty recording room, rows of expensive looking guitars displayed on the walls, amps laying around, amps she did not recognize.

Which was why [Y/N] was sitting on the floor with Tom, who was happy to show her up at her own game and show her how they work.

"Okay." [Y/N] clasped her hands together, "What does that do?"
She pointed to a set of buttons on the side, all unlabeled and completely identical.

Tom looked at her as if she were joking, but scoffed and pointed to each one, telling her what they did.
Volume up, volume down, so and so.

[Y/N], to her luck, knew what the pedals were. Speaking of pedals, there had to be at least 20 laying on the floor, lined up against the back wall and all connected to a singular amp.

"And all the amps look like this?" [Y/N] asked, a genuine concern in her voice.
Tom always found [Y/N] taking work seriously a little funny, especially because he was the biggest slacker in the building.

Tom nodded, browsing the wall to pick a guitar to practice.
"These don't look anything like the ones i've seen." [Y/N] muttered to herself, examining the buttons that were labeled, and quizzing herself to make sure she knew the ones that weren't.

Tom picked a plain black guitar, the markers worn out and one of the strings hanging on for dear life. It looked acoustic, but obviously it was electric.
An electric acoustic guitar?

Furthermore, it was obvious the guitar was a favorite of his.

"Yeah, they're professional." Tom replied, sitting back down next to [Y/N].
[Y/N] rolled her eyes, laughing a little to herself as she replayed where she got the word 'professional' from.

"So," Tom added, "Go."
[Y/N] looked at him, her eyes glaring at his attitude briefly before reaching for the cords tangled behind the amp.

She plugged in the guitar Tom was holding, switching and adjusting buttons on the amp as Tom watched.
He leaned his cheek on the neck of the guitar, watching intently, ready to obnoxiously correct any mistakes [Y/N] made.

However, she didn't make any. She successfully set it up and looked back up at Tom, a cocky grin on her face.
She rushed a little, disliking the way Tom stared at her without trying to hide it.

He wasn't watching what buttons she flipped, or what pegs she turned, he watched her.
[Y/N] knew why, he was a player. As much as he denied it with his life, it was simply a fact.

She couldn't indulge in that, and the way he watched her so intently made it harder every time.
Then again, it was that look that made him able to get any girl he wanted in the first place.

She refused to be one of them.

[Y/N] nudged Tom, indicating he play.
"So," She smiled, "Go."

Tom scoffed with a laugh, strumming the guitar to check the sound before playing a small riff.
"How is it?" [Y/N] asked, smiling widely at her work.
He raised his eyebrows slightly at the sound, it was practically perfect.

Tom looked at her, shrugging.
"Not bad."