Reflecting The World

"Look," Bill said with forced patience. "I really have no idea where Tom is and I really don't get why you're looking for him here."

Bill ran his hands through his hair. He wasn't close to Tom. Not anymore. He hadn't seen him since he escaped.

"If you want to find him you can go haunt the mirrors in the police station."

"But I don't know how to get to the police station!" Bill protested. "You have to take me there! You have to take me to Tomi!"

He didn't know where he even was, much less where the police station was. And why would his Tom be at the police station, anyway? Tom was so weak and pathetic...maybe someone beat him up or something. That sounded more likely, at least. But how did Tom get to the police station without Bill following? That was weird...

"I am not taking you there!" Bill said, panicked just by the thought of going near that place. "No way. Find someone else to take you."

Bill was extremely anxious to get rid of this... thing... he would do just about anything to make it go away, but that did not mean getting caught by the police in the process. "You can check his apartment," he said eventually. "If he's not at work, then he's there. I'm sure since you apparently know him so well, then you know where he lives."

"But..." Flex protested, feeling lost. "I don't know where I am. Why don't you take me to the apartment?"

How long had he been asleep? Did Tom move? He lived in a house in the suburbs, not an apartment! This one must be lying to him; he must be hiding Tom from him!

"Take me to his apartment!" Bill beat on the mirror lightly, not wanting to break it.

"I can't take you there," Bill said, frustrated. "For once, I don't know where his apartment is either. And second... I just can't. He can't see me, okay? I'm not supposed to be here."

Why couldn't he just get it?

"So... chill out," he said and shook his head. "This is just crazy."

He turned away from the mirror and walked to sit down on his old and worn out sofa, but still not out of eye-shot for the person in the mirror.

Bill let out an aggravated groan.

"Tom doesn't even live an apartment!" He shouted at him. "He lives at home, at the same house I live at, with ME!"

Bill whimpered lightly, curling up on the floor. "I just want my brother back...he's all I've got...please, please help me find him...His name's Tom Kaulitz and he lives at 715 Walden Street and I just really, really miss him..."

Bill froze. "Tom lives... with you?" The confusion was almost too much to take before he heard the rest of what he said. "Your brother...?"

The puzzle was finally whole and Bill got up and walked quickly back towards the mirror and hit his fist against it, making it shatter just a little in the upper corner. "We're not talking about the same Tom, you idiot!" he cried, both frustrated and relieved at the same time. "The Tom I know doesn't have a brother and his last name is Trümper. He's a stuck-up policeman with too little to do in his spare time."

Turning around with an almost crazy laugh, Bill continued, "So you miss him, that's too bad. But it's not my problem."

Flex stared at the broken mirror in horror and loss. No...he had to help him find Tom. He had to!

Walking away from the mirror, Flex sat before the tv, speaking loudly so the other one could hear him.

"Then find my Tom for me! I swear to Dog I won't leave you alone until you find him!"

"I'm not dealing with this shit," Bill spat. "I don't know your Tom is, I don't know where to find him. I've never even met the guy!"

He turned away from the TV. "God, this is stupid. If you're really a delusion after all I swear I'll check myself back into the mental hospital."

He grabbed his jacked that was a slung over a chair and put it on. He was leaving, he needed air.

"Where you going?" Flex taunted from the tv, watching him get ready. "The car? I can be in the car, too. I can be anywhere you are. Just watch."

He ran to the door, Scowling at the other one, suddenly realizing he doesn't know the other one's name. "Who are you, anyway?"

Bill closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose. He didn't have a car, but the idea of this guy following around everywhere he went was maddening. It wasn't like he could break everything with a reflection either.

He stopped in front of the door with his hand on the handle. "I'm 815Bill," he said. "I can't really say nice to meet you. No offense."

"Well, if you ever want to be rid of me, 815," Flex retorted, "then you'll find my Tom. Now. Whatever it takes."

With that, he slammed open the door and walked out, waiting for 815Bill on the other side.

"Oh, hell," Bill muttered under his breath. He walked out after Flex. "Do you know where Tom lives?" he asked through gritted teeth, not able to believe he was doing this. "I won't be able to take you anywhere, though. I have no car, as I said."

"I already told you. He lives at 715 Walden Street. Or he did..."

Flex looked worried, biting his lip lightly as he looked around.

"I don't recognize anything...where am I?"

As if being in a strange house wasn't enough, he wasn't even on the right street! He had gone to bed with Tom yesterday, he was sure of it, but now...What was he to do? He didn't even know where Walden Street was...

BDTom wandered around outside by himself, newly lit cigarette in between his lips. It was highly unusual for him to be out of the house anymore, but he was committed to therapy and committed to changing. To being a better, less depressed human being and moving on. One pack of cigarettes and a bottle of antidepressants at a time.

It was a good day to be out, he had to admit. On a day like this a year ago, everything would have been perfect. Endless possibilities with his boyfriend, his brother, and his friend. Or maybe just a shit ton of interviews followed by a show.

He kept walking, he didn't really have a clue where he was, but at the same time he didn't care. As long as there were no fangirls.... not that anyone gave a shit about Tokio Hotel anymore. He took a long drag on his cigarette and looked around. It didn't seem like there was anyone around.... until his eyes fell upon a tall figure standing about fifty feet away who appeared to be talking to himself. Tom smiled to himself and watched from afar as the person still hadn't spotted him.

"You're in my apartment," Bill gritted, not planning on giving Flex the address just in case he would feel like stalking him some more later. "Doesn't Tom have a phone or something, you could--" He cut himself off and tensed. Something was moving in his side-vision. There was someone here.

He turned around slowly and yes, someone was definitely standing there, eavesdropping.

'You know what would be fun?' Flex thought to himself. 'Letting this other guy think 815 is crazy.'

Smirking a little to himself, he turned with 815, matching his facial expression and everything. He doubted that the other person could see and hear him, too, but there was always a chance. Of course, they didn't even look the same, but Flex wasn't thinking of that.

Tom froze as he was spotted... he thought. Yes, he was definitely seen, but he didn't move. His smile faded, though his mild amusement didn't. He hadn't really seen anyone talk to themselves like that before. Except for once in his therapist's office.

He didn't know if he should approach the person or just walk away. Schizophrenics could be dangerous, right?

If he walked away, the person could chase him. If he approached the person, they could attack him. He stayed where he was and watched and waited to if the person bothered to pay him any mind. He hoped not, but at the same time... he hoped they would.

Bill saw the person freeze as he realized he had been seen. He considered going over there and teach him a thing or two about what happens when you eavesdrop, but decided he couldn't be bothered. He settled on simply calling out to him. "What are you looking at?" he barked, scowling.

Flex kept a giggle to himself as he shouted with 815, mimicking him with a smile as he looked at the other person. Said other person had black cornrows and brown eyes, just like him. He wasn't too interesting, but then, making 815 think he was crazy was fun.

Bill flinched as Flex mimicked him and turned towards him. "Shut up," he hissed. "What's wrong with you, you're acting like you're five."

He turned back towards the eavesdropped. "Now?"

Tom flinched as the heard the person talk to him. He opened his mouth to talk when the other person started talking to himself again. It made him second guess if the oddball was talking to him in the first place, but then he turned back and looked directly at Tom. He was definitely talking to Tom.

He stepped a little closer to the other, just enough to get a better look. Tom generally hated fights, but that was usually with his family and friends. But fighting with a stranger was different... there was no leftover tension. And on second thought, the odds were in his favor - he was sane.

"I'm looking at you," Tom called back, amused by his own pointing-out-the-obvious response.

Oh, this guy thinks he's funny, Bill thought with a sneer. He was really not in the mood for this.

"Liking what you see then?" he asked and narrowed his eyes as the man walked closer. He had to remind himself that he couldn't jump on this guy and kick his ass. If he did, he might end up getting sued. Not good. So this man better not piss him off more than he already was, or this could get ugly.

"Are you flirting with him or trying to kick his ass?" Flex laughed, unable to hold the pose anymore. 815Bill was nearly out of view of the window anyway, as it was.

"Hey new guy! Come over here where I can see you!!" he crooned.

Bill did a double take as he thought of the question he had been asked. He always had sort of teased in flirting way and flirted in a teasing way, but he had definitely not wanted to flirt with this rude eavesdropper. He just send Flex an annoyed glare and then he flinched as he called out to the stalker guy.

"Hey, don't call him over here, you idiot! What, are you crazy?" he hissed. "What did you do that for?"

He should just leave now, he thought. Just go and leave Flex with the eavesdropper so he could bother him instead.