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Improvisation	By : Rina76 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Tokio Hotel Views: 1721 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Georg Listing, Tom Kaulitz, Bill Kaulitz or any members of Tokio Hotel. This story is a complete work of fiction and not true. I don't own this fandom am not making any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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When Tom and Georg show up on set the next morning with their war wounds, Gustav nearly has a fit. Georg’s eye is blacker than a lump of coal and puffed up that much that he almost can’t see out of it but Tom looks much worse than him. The boy’s jaw is covered in dark blue bruises, his mouth is twice its normal size and his lower lip is divided by an unsightly crusty scab that formed over the split during the night as he slept. He has removed his lip-ring as it was cutting into his swollen flesh uncomfortably. The bump on his forehead is still there, like half a billiard ball lodged under his skin.

As Georg predicted, they both get a royal reprimanding from their German director with words like, ‘foolish’, ‘careless,’ and ‘irresponsible’ thrown at them while they meekly hang their heads in shame, feeling like disobedient children. If Tom and Georg were spoiled actors with huge egos and inflated senses of self-importance, they wouldn’t have tolerated such a scolding but because they are still so humble and respect Gustav so much, they take the other man’s chastisement without arguing and even agree that they deserve it. Regardless of who started it, the two actors both know they shouldn't have been fighting with anyone in the first place. When he’s finished yelling at them, Gustav orders the guys out of his sight until he works out what to do with them and they scurry away like mice.

Somehow, they gravitate to Georg’s trailer and the older actor makes some coffee, the two of them sipping on the fresh brew while they wait for Gustav’s next instructions. They talk about the previous night and how it was both awesomely terrifying and awesomely exhilarating at the same time, battling that huge bodybuilder and surviving. They laugh with the sheer relief that they both managed to live through it, and then Tom broaches the subject he spoke of last night, in Georg’s truck. The whole ‘boyfriend’ thing. After the fierce way Georg hugged him and began to cry, Tom knows the older man still has feelings for him, so he asks hopefully if Georg has reconsidered his stance on them just being friends.

“You know how much I want that,” Georg replies, his brow lined with seriousness. “You know I’d love for us to be together. But there’s an issue we need to discuss first.”

“What, Bill?” The younger actor frowns. “Because if you want me to break up with her I have to do it in person and-”

“No, this doesn’t have anything to with Bill,” Georg interrupts. “I have to tell you something. About me. It’s important.”

Unsure if this is going to be bad news or good news, Tom continues frowning, his normally fidgeting fingers staying still around his coffee cup.

Reaching across the table and caressing Tom’s wrists, Georg confides softly, “You mean a lot to me, Tom, more than you know. After what happened last night, or almost happened, I realised something. Life is precious. And you are precious to me.”

Georg’s sea-green eyes are earnest and his voice is strong with sincerity.

“If we’re going to have a relationship, I want us to have an open, honest one without any lies or hidden truths. I want you to know everything about me. And there’s one thing you don’t; there’s one thing I haven’t told you yet.” Georg nods to himself. “But I think it’s time I did. I think that you should know.”

His dark-brown gaze wide and expectant, Tom peers up at his brunette co-star, wondering what this terribly important secret is.

Drawing in a brave breath, Georg releases Tom’s wrists and wipes his sweaty palms on his own pants. “Oh boy. I don’t know how you’re going to react to this. But I gotta say it.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” Tom demands. “What is it?”

“I, uh...I...” Georg coughs to clear his throat and begins again, the last few words coming out in a rush to get it over with as quickly as possible. “I had a one night stand.”

Not at all the confession that Tom had anticipated, he just blinks and says dumbly, “What?”

“About a week ago. With Ria,” Georg adds, cringing and recoiling backwards at the frightening expression that flares on Tom’s face like the flames of hell.

“The maid?” Tom blazes, pushing himself up with both hands flat on the table. “You fucked the MAID?”

“Um...Yeah.”

“I don't fucking believe this,” Tom growls, coming around the table and standing in front of Georg threateningly, eyes glowing like black lightning. “How could you, Georg?”

Giving himself a little distance from Tom’s scorching glare, Georg retreats further into his seat, stammering defensively. “Before you start punching me, Tom, I just want to point out that I don’t normally sleep around when I’m with somebody. You have to understand that when this happened, you and I weren’t seeing each other,” he stresses. “I wouldn’t have done it if things were fine between us, if we were still together at that time. But we weren’t. We weren’t even on speaking terms. I thought that it was over; I wanted to move on. And Ria was just there.”

“Yeah, I bet she was,” Tom scoffs. “With her legs wide open.”

“Don’t be mad at her,” Georg pleads, not wanting Ria to lose her job over this. “She didn’t seduce me. I seduced her, okay?”

“Sure, and she was trying really hard to stop you,” Tom drawls sarcastically. “I’ve met her, Georg. I know what she’s like. Ria’s easy; she hit on me like a tank. Only difference is, I didn’t fuck her!”

Lowering his lashes in guilt, Georg admits, “I know it was the wrong thing to do and I regret it. I was just...just lonely.”

Tom rolls his eyes in disgust. “If you wanted to get laid that badly, couldn’t you have just gone out and found an anonymous fangirl? Why’d you have to pick someone that works here?”

“I didn’t really think about it,” Georg lamely answers.

“Evidently not,” Tom drums in. He aims an accusing squint at Georg. “When I came to your trailer that night, you said you weren’t dating anyone else.”

“Sleeping with someone once does not equal dating them,” Georg insists, lifting his eyebrows for emphasis. “It only happened the one time and I felt bad about it afterwards because I knew I shouldn’t have done it. I knew it was a mistake. I still wanted to be with you and being with someone else only made me miss you more.”

He starts to reach out to Tom and then thinks better of it, dropping his hand back down to his side.

“I knew then that no woman on earth could ever change my feelings for you. She meant nothing, Tom,” the older man promises, anxious appeal on his face. “You mean everything. Please believe me.”

A deeply troubled look flits across the younger boy’s features, his following sentences filled with disillusionment. “If you care for me so much then why did you lie to me about it? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

In a quiet tone, Georg discloses, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Tom’s expression hardens. “Bit late for that.”

“I’m sorry,” Georg mutters, wishing he hadn’t told Tom now.

“You’re sorry?!” Tom repeats irately, the flush of fury rising in his cheeks. “You should have thought of being sorry before you went and shoved your cock in the maid! I hope you used protection because Christ knows where that whore’s been.”

“I did. And she’s not-”

“And then to hide it from me? To lie to me?” Tom barges into Georg’s feeble defense. Fraught with the myriad of upsetting emotions bubbling up inside him, Tom roughly rakes his fingers through his own hair, clenching his fist and almost ripping out a handful of blond strands from his scalp in his overwhelming turmoil.

“I trusted you, Georg, and you’re nothing but a sack of shit!”

Cut by Tom’s less-than-understanding reaction to his noble confession, Georg gets out of his seat, steps forward and retaliates, “If anyone deserves that title, it’s YOU, Tom.” He jabs Tom in the chest with a vengeful forefinger. “You’re the one who’s been cheating on your girlfriend. I know because it was my dick in your mouth. What do you think Bill would say if I called and told her exactly what a two-timing little slut you’ve been?”

Georg’s words are cruel but lethally accurate and they slash into Tom like switchblades. Hating the older male for speaking the harsh, ugly truth, Tom slaps him hard across the face, throwing Georg’s head to one side, the sound of the vicious blow like a whip crack. There is a silent pall in the air. Georg has the same stunned, disorientated, displaced sensation that most people get when they’ve been unexpectedly struck by another’s hand. Then, after the shocked silence, comes the awful, weak, impotent emotion of humiliation. Slowly, he turns to face his teenage co-star, Georg feeling precariously close to crying. His cheek throbs. The blow was on the same side that he was hit by the bodybuilder last night and it hurts even more because of that.

Tom can see tears welling in Georg’s eyes but is too mad to feel sorry for him.

“You want to call Bill?” The teen grabs a portable telephone off the cradle nearby and thrusts it at Georg. “Go ahead; call her. Tell her everything. See if I fucking care.”

Georg does nothing. He stands there dully staring at the phone yet not really seeing it, looking right through the white plastic hand piece with blurry eyes.

“Are you gonna do it or what? I’ll read the number out to you.”

Tom’s goading forces Georg to give a jerky shake of his head.

“Well, then don’t say things if you don’t mean it.” The younger one slams the phone back down, his anger far from appeased. “In fact, don’t say anything to me at all. As of right now, I don’t want to speak to you. I don’t even want to see your face anymore!”

Tom’s venomously hissed words bring Georg even closer to breaking down and he fights to keep calm, fights to keep his expression impassive, avoiding eye contact with his furious co-star. Tom scrolls his glare up and down Georg’s figure with contempt.

“I thought you were one of the good guys, Georg. But I guess I was wrong. You’re just a lying bastard like everyone else,” he spits.

And then Tom leaves, wrenching open the front door of Georg’s trailer and closing it behind him with a slam, leaving Georg blind with his own tears.

………

Kicking the door shut on his own trailer with a loud bang, Tom swears passionately. He throws a few things around before storming into the bedroom and falling onto his mattress where he stews in his own rage, cursing Georg for letting him down and not being the gallant gentleman Tom wanted him to be. How dare Georg talk about how precious Tom is to him, when a week earlier he was screwing the maid, mere yards from where Tom slept? How could the guy do that behind Tom’s back, like Tom doesn’t even matter? He thought Georg was better than that and Tom never expected the older man to betray him like this. Even if it was only one time. Even if he and Georg aren’t a real, legit couple at the moment. But they could have been. However, thanks to Georg’s thoughtless actions, they’ll probably never get together again. If Georg thinks that Tom will forgive him and take him back, the fucker’s got another thing coming.

Tom doesn’t forgive and Tom doesn’t forget.

After a while, the phone on the wall starts ringing. Not in the mood to talk, the pissed-off teenager keeps smoking the hand-rolled cigarette in his fingers and ignores the phone until it rings out. It rings again and eventually Tom caves in and picks up, in case it’s Bill trying to get through.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Georg.” The older man’s voice is a little hoarse on the other end of the line, like he has been crying.

“What do you want?” Tom snaps back, offering no sympathy.

“I want to apologise for what I called you before. It was a low shot. I really don’t think you’re a two-timing...Well, you know.” Georg breaks off, unable to repeat the degrading label he gave his young co-star. “I mean, I knew the stakes when I got involved with you so it was wrong of me to throw that back in your face. I shouldn’t have said it and I’m sorry.”

Tom doesn’t reply, just takes a long drag on his cigarette, holding the phone to his ear to hear what else Georg has to say for himself. Not that it will change Tom’s mood. He’s hoping that the marijuana mixed with the tobacco he’s smoking will mellow him and help settle his temper. It must be working because Tom is calmly listening to Georg instead of screaming at him like a hormonal housewife with PMS.

“I’m also sorry for lying to you about Ria.” Georg turns quiet, as if mulling over the issue. “The only explanation I can give you, Tom, is that at the time I was crazy with wanting you so much. It was like a fire inside of me, a fire that wouldn’t go out, that kept getting hotter and brighter until it was a raging inferno. I had to do something to relieve the inferno, and that something was Ria. I know that’s no excuse and I accept the blame completely.”

Georg hears his eighteen year old co-star exhaling another lungful of smoke over the phone but gets no verbal response. He sighs wearily. “I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, Tom, and I get that. I’ll hang up and leave you alone. But before I go, I just want to say one last thing.”

The older actor pauses and swallows. “I still have that fire inside me. God, I wish it would die out but it won’t, and I don’t think it ever will. I realise you don’t feel the same way about me but I just wanted you to know. So, now you do.”

And then, without waiting for Tom’s reply, Georg disconnects the call.

………

Mr. Schafer’s personal assistant visits the two actors individually that afternoon and informs them that they are allowed to have a week off while their injuries heal so Tom packs his bag and hails a cab, keen to go home to New York City.

Meanwhile Georg, desperate to get away from his own trailer and the memories it holds, drives two hours to spend time with his dog Ernie who nearly licks him to death with joy when he arrives. With the affectionate way he interacts with his beloved pet, it’s easy to see why Georg’s mother says he has a heart of gold. Georg thinks his heart is more like a lettuce sometimes - easily ripped apart, easily crushed and wilted - but he’d rather have a lettuce in his chest than a chunk of stone. It would be much less troublesome to have a heart of stone but alas, he does not. It seems the one with the stony heart is Tom Trumper.

Sitting on the grass in a park after an energetic round of Frisbee, Georg scratches his dog’s ear and declares sadly, “Tom doesn’t love me, Ernie. But you do, don’t you boy? You love me.”

Whimpering concernedly, Ernie nuzzles into him, licking the drops of saltwater trailing down his master’s face, while Georg hugs his pet’s furry body and sobs.
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Improvisation