★┊[ Lights, camera, action
aka… a simple television interview sparking an old flame
warnings ~ actress!reader, reader is implied to be european, set in 2010 era, film reader is in is made up, made the interviewer act like Jimmy Fallon except British and gave him a random name since I couldn't really find an actual interviewer that had the vibes I was going for </3
w/c ~ 1400+
── .✦ a/n ~ first tom fic!! this will become an official AU, so be aware ;)
The bright lights of the studio blur your vision, the loud cheers of the audience causing a loud ringing to appear in your ears.
You don’t think you’ll ever be used to it. Fame.
“You know her, you love her, you wanna be her…”
You feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest.
“Everybody welcome the star of Europe’s new favorite film, the lady you’ve been waiting for–” He yells out your name with a grin as you walk out onto the stage.
You smile sheepishly as you take your seat before Mr. Smith, waving to the crowd as you do.
“Nice to meet you, how are you this evening?” He begins kindly. “Nice to meet you too, and I’m doing just fine, thank you.”
You haven’t ever truly been interviewed. Sure, maybe interrogated by a fan, but not a genuine, live interview in front of an audience.
“Now, we all know you’re the star of the film Scars on My Heart…” For the first little while, all the questions are related to the movie – what filming was like, your costars, etc. Then, they’re focused on your personal life. Favorite music, where you’re from, favorite foods – like highschool icebreakers.
However, one question catches you off guard.
“So, we actually have some images from your high school years we have some inquiries about…”
Your heart early stops
Is he gonna call you a nerd? Make fun of you? You’ve seen the things some interviewers have revealed to the world.
But the real thing might as well be an even bigger shock.
Mr. Smith brings out a photo, one that you vividly remember being taken.
You, six years ago at the age of fifteen, posing for a photo in your algebra class…
… next to rockstar Tom Kaulitz, with his arm around your shoulders.
“Mind explaining this?” He says with a smirk.
You can’t help the laugh of surprise that leaves you.
“Oh–! Uhm, yeah, we did actually go to school together, me and Tom. And Bill and Georg and Gustav.”
“Were you friends in any way? What– what’s the story behind this?”
You laugh nervously once again.
“So, uh, we were sort-of friends. Not necessarily all that close, but I still knew him well enough.” Your eyes fall to your feet. “He was actually really sweet – they all were, the band – and I thought it was cool seeing them slowly gain more fame.”
You’re sort of leaving out some key details, how they had to drop-out due to their fame and bullying. The things you heard people say about Bill. About Tom.
“Really? Did you ever see them when they were small, before the superfans and all that?” Mr. Smith questions.
“I actually was hoping to see them perform at a more intimate venue at some point, but then they got too famous and…” You take a breath. “Y’know, we just… grew apart.”
The crowd gives a united ‘aww.’
“That’s too bad. Now, we all might as well be wondering this, but was your relationship ever more than friendly?” An echo of ‘ooo’s’ verberates throughout the room.
The question catches you off guard.
“O–Oh! No, uh, no… not at all, actually. Well, I thought he was cute, but a lot of girls did. A lot of girls do. Not much else to it.” You’re lying straight through your teeth.
You had the fattest crush on him. From the eighth grade up until Senior year, you had a crush on him.
You longed for something to become of it, but that never happened.
“Oh, really? Okay, so…”
The rest of the interview goes as expected. A couple more questions about Tom and Tokio Hotel, more questions on other random topics, what a typical interview is like.
But by the end of it, your heart is racing with a newfound realization.
You never stopped liking him.
That stupid crush still weighs heavy in your chest.
God, what are you gonna do?
Across Europe, in Berlin, Tom Kaulitz sits in his bedroom, browsing mindlessly on his computer, when an article appears on his screen with an awfully eye-catching title.
“Rising European movie star reveals some enticing secrets about famed German guitarist Tom Kaulitz, their high school relations, and much more in an interview!”
What the hell…?
He scoffs, before immediately clicking on the link to the interview.
The moment he sees your face, his heart stops.
It's you. And even after six years, he can tell. You radiate the same beauty as you did way back then.
Ten minutes later, after watching the interview, he’s left with a pounding heart and resurfaced emotions.
“Bill! Come here, right now!!” He calls out to his twin.
“What?! I’m taking off my makeup, give me a–”
“No, this is urgent! It’ll be worth it, I swear!”
Tom hears Bill groan comically, then watches as he angrily leaves the bathroom and approaches.
“What?”
“Look at this!”
Bill sits down at Tom’s side, peering over his twin's shoulder at his computer screen.
Almost instantly, recognition appears on his face.
“Oh my god! No way, she’s an actress now?!” He exclaims
“I know! C’mere, lets look at what she said about us!”
Tom skips the video to where she talks about him and Bill, playing with his lip ring subconsciously.
“Just watch!”
The two boys watch attentively as you speak of what your high school life was like.
“So, everyone knows Tom Kaulitz is a total ladies man–"
“Yes, I’m aware,” You laugh softly.
“But, like, was he always? It’s just funny to think about–”
The two of you laugh together.
“Well, uh… He was actually always really kind. Sure, handsome and sassy and – albeit – disruptive, but more often than not he was really quiet. Y’know, the sort of brooding, mysterious guy that a select group of girls was obsessed with.” You go on to explain.
Bill glances at Tom.
“Damn, she’s got some balls–”
“Shhh! I’m tryna listen!!” Tom can’t help getting giddy at the sight of you speaking so positively about him.
“Really? Y’know, I always took him as the troublemaker with less than stellar grades.” Mr. Smith states with a shrug.
“What? No! I-I mean, he might not have been the best student 100% of the time, but who is? He got good grades, at least. He was actually a pretty good guy. I can see why so many girls hang posters of him on their walls.”
This makes Tom’s heart skip a beat. Several, actually.
Him and Bill spend the rest of their night reminiscing about you. The way you treated them, how gentle you were, your general kindness. All of it.
And by the end of the night, he realizes one thing:
He still likes you.
Even after all this time, that stupid, god forsaken crush sticks to him like a moth to a flame.
That same week, Tom and the other members of Tokio Hotel are sitting in a studio, being interviewed for their new up-coming album.
About ten minutes in, a question is asked that catches Tom off guard.
“Tom, we recently got word that you had relations with a certain actress we all know and love…” The interviewer, a stubby man with gray hair and a gruff voice, inquires.
Tom simply laughs.
“Yeah, I, uh, I saw that interview. She was really sweet.” He explains.
“Well, go on and tell us more! What was she like, per say?”
For a moment, Tom quietly debates how he should describe you: in the way you truly were, or in a stupidly flirtatious manner like his agents would want him to?
He decides both.
“Oh, she was a total catch! Man, I don’t think I’ve met a woman more beautiful than her.” He begins, smirking at the interviewer as he plays with his lip ring.
“On top of that, she was so sweet too. She was smart, nice to everyone, and… yeah, just an all around amazing girl.” He grins.
“Oh, really now?” The older man chuckles.
“Yes, really! Bill and Georg and Gustav would agree with me!” The three others nod and giggle to themselves
With that stupid smirk on his face, he turns to the camera.
“If you’re watching this, liebste, gimme a call!” He winks at the camera as laughter erupts in the room.
He had only said that because he didn’t think you’d be watching.
Little does he know, you were.
You stare at your computer screen, cheeks flushed with surprise. He remembers you? After all this time, all this fame, he remembers you?
With shaky hands, you open your email, typing in his email with bated breath.
“You free for coffee this weekend?”
(1/9/26 edit: I USED THE WRONG TOO WITHIN THE FIRST LIKE FIVE SENTENCES. SOME1 KILL ME.)
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