growing up your parents never cared about you. You had a habit of collecting small things. years later you were found in the streets and taken by a gang, tokio hotel. You secretly snuck rocks and shiny objects into your pockets.

“empty your pockets.” Tom said sternly, towering over you with crossed arms. gustav, georg, and bill were invested, you hesitated then emptied your pockets, a bunch of items now sitting on the living room coffee table, as you looked at your lap with a guilty look.