Chapter 1 - Pilot

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He woke up in the middle of the night, screaming silently. Apparently the dream that he just travelled in was too scary for him to even imagine. Dark and bloody, as crucial as it seems. The hotel scene was cold and dark, he was all alone, no one was there but only him and his shadow. To his surprise, he was shocked to have seen he was in that modern art looking hotel suite.

The only thing that he could recall was he is at an old vintage shop, fascinating all about the jewelleries that were being displayed for the sake of the customer’s viewing pleasure and purchasing offer. That one wicked chain has caught his eyes like a bulls’eye shot. He seems to be attracted to it. It was a perfect chain, like the one he was looking for to complete his accessories for his rocking dark image. That mysterious old lady who donned all in black, owner of the shop to be precise, saw his admiration towards it. She then, immediately put the chain around his neck for no reason and he felt as if the crescent moon with a black rose intertwined pendant was glowing when the chain was hanging on him.

“This is a new beginning for you. Keep it, the chain is all to you now.” She whispered with her soft but harsh voice and a piercing stare was her other gift.

Oh well, the next thing he knew, he left the shop too quickly, a sudden reaction over that old lady and poof, no more memories. While, at the very moment, he caught himself on that king-sized bed, suffered a thrill of awakening from his so-called nightmare. He couldn’t recall what happened after he left the shop. Was it all a part of his dream? Should be. That was all he could ask and answer to his body and soul at that exact time. He tried to close his eyes and let himself drown in his sleep but fail is the word, he felt as if it is a morning scene when it was actually at night. Jet lagged, maybe? He is a Rockstar, so why bother that one tiny fact?

He eventually left the comfy bed since it was a no use for him that night. He made his way to the desk and his foe finger made a push on a little button of the symbol “on”. The white metallic-like laptop branded with the name “Apple” was switched on. What could be better than having an excellence in song writing skill if you’re not doing anything else other than writing a riddle of lines which would produce a song as the last piece, a masterpiece of music or so it is said to be. To compose deep song lyrics that are well done enough to catch the soul of every fan that has a heart on his band would be his main priority. It was that night he let out his weird train of thoughts that he still felt after he was awaken from that deep sleep, jot down everything on that particular cyber notebook of his. This could not be a song but it could be literature, some sort like a poem expressing his own feelings. As soon as he has finished on writing all those thoughts of his for just that one strange night, he remarks the beautifully written words with B.K, his initials at the end of the whole text. Bill Kaulitz, wouldn’t that be more familiar?

Little did he notice, something was glaring from the end table of the bed. Imagine, it was all dark and all of a sudden, a tiny spot of light flickered at the scene. Bill is brave, he stood off the chair and went directly to where his attention was caught. There it was; an antique silver plated chain with the pendant of a glowing white light of a crescent moon beautifully wrapped with vines of a black rose, laid wickedly on the hotel room bed’s end table right next to his favourite shining Aviator which he worn most of the time to keep his dazzling eyes away from the ever so bright sunlight. He left no words to speak since his nightmare could have been a real deal, after all.

 

 

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