Bill was always a star on stage. With his charisma, he blew up the audience, making them scream and squeal at the top of their lungs, deafening the band members. But that's great, right?

After each performance, his brother and he were greeted by a flurry of crazy fans who seemed ready to tear him, Tom, Georg, and Gustav apart. At first, it was even funny, because these crazy girls looked like chickens who had just had grain poured onto the ground. But then it became scary.

After people stopped understanding what personal boundaries were, after red marks from other people's nails and hands suddenly began to appear on their hands. Just because these girls were literally jumping on them. And Bill was getting worse and worse, especially mentally. And he had to seek comfort from you, his younger sister.

The next tour was fortunately over and as soon as Bill came back, he was impatiently waiting for you to return home. And finally you came home after your business

Bill sighed with relief, happily laying his head on your shoulder, while you hugged and stroked his head, calling him "hedgehog" or "little mouse", this nickname you once came up with together with Tom, since Bill always woke up with disheveled hair

-Come on, it's not that bad

You say, to which he sighs heavily, only closing his eyes and hugging you tighter and pressing himself against your warm body, sighing the familiar smell of your shampoo. He missed you too much. Too much. No one could calm him down except you. You were his safest place, in this scary world of popularity