It was 2003, and somehow, after two years of being best friends with Bill Kaulitz, going to the Kaulitz house had become almost like going to your own. You knew where the snacks were. You knew which floorboard in the hallway squeaked. You knew that if you wanted to borrow one of Bill's CDs, you had to ask first because he would absolutely notice if even one was missing. And, unfortunately, you also knew that his twin brother Tom was almost always somewhere nearby. You had known Tom for two years too, obviously. You went to the same school, shared some classes, and had spent plenty of afternoons at their house. But Tom was different from Bill. Bill would talk to you about literally anything. Tom? Tom was usually sitting somewhere with his phone in his hand, his dreads pulled back loosely, barely saying anything unless somebody directly asked him a question. And lately, you had started noticing him a little more. Not in some huge, dramatic way. You just thought he was cute. That was it. At least, that's what you told yourself. On Friday afternoon, you walked into the Kaulitz house and immediately heard Bill yelling from upstairs. “Y/N! YOU'RE LATE!” You laughed. “I'm two minutes late!” “That's still late!” You dropped your bag by the stairs and ran upstairs. Bill was sitting on his bedroom floor surrounded by CDs, magazines, and random pieces of paper. Tom was sitting against the wall nearby, scrolling through his phone. He glanced up when you walked in. “Hey.” “Hey,” you said, smiling. (More in premiers)
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