"WAIT, LIKE BOTH OF US?" I ASKED when the man turned around, walking in the room.

"Yes, yes of course, please come in," he smiled again and I couldn't help but follow Mr Bohnegan inside.

There, around a big table of dark wood, were sitting four other men. They were dressed in dark leather clothes, all of them long-haired, the shiny strands looking like huge black clouds around their heads. I didn't need to be much of a logical thinker to figure out who they were.

KISS were right there, sitting in front of me without a single sign of make-up on their faces. I was quite surprised they had agreed to unmask to me and my fellow uh, colleague, rival, whatever, but they must have figured out that one of us was potentially going to work for them anyway. Or perhaps they decided that it wasn't worth it going through the whole make-up routine for such a short time, I had no clue. I was glad though, it didn't seem ethical to me to talk business without seeing the person's face.

"Here, take a seat," the short man pointed to the two spare chairs and took his own place on the other side of the table. He was sitting in the middle of the group, so that he was separating them in two couples.

Me and Mr Bohnegan sat down and I looked up at the man who had invited us in. He looked at least ten to fifteen years older than me — his hair was short and unlike the rest he was wearing a suit and a tie. I thought he looked almost ridiculously out of place between the rockers on his both sides.

"My name is Bill Aucoin," he introduced himself "and I am the manager of the band. These are Peter and Ace," he looked to his left side. The two men greeted us with wide smiles on their faces. "and those are Gene and Paul," he motioned to the right. Gene nodded, and Paul gave us a restrained smile and a quiet greeting. "Guys, these are Mr Robert Bohnegan and Ms Lillian Astra, who want to work for us as a tour manager's assistant."

"So, ladies first, tell us a little about yourself Ms Astra," Bill asked as he took all the papers I had taken out of my bag for them to take a look at.

"My name is Lillian Astra. I'm 22 years old. I come from a family of immigrants from Eastern Europe, but I was born here, in New York City, where I studied maths and later bank accounting. I've been working for this bank for the past year, but I quit a couple of weeks ago, I —"

"Why?" my eyes flew to Paul, who had his dark eyes fixed on me "Why'd you quit?" I gulped. What am I supposed to say! Was it work ethics to tell your potential bosses that you just quit your previous job because you got bored of it! Would it make me seem inconstant, untrustworthy?

"I... I figured out it just wasn't for me. It wasn't what I wanted to do, " I answered and swore in my mind when I saw a look of confusion cross his handsome face. He opened his mouth to ask something more, but he was interrupted by the man beside me, who had snorted superciliously.

I could feel the that angry part of me that definitely wanted to bite back and defend me make the words rise up my throat. However, I bit my tongue and kept my mouth shut. After all, Mr Boh-kiss-my-ass-negan wasn't worth ruining my job opportunities.

All the eyes in the room where on the guy beside me, who didn't say anything else. He just turned around, looking at me, like he was giving me permit to keep talking. Paul's eyes tore away from the man and nodded at me to continue. If he had a question on his mind he didn't ask it.

"It was just like every day was just the same like the rest. I worked for them for a year and I felt like I was reliving the same day over and over again.

I would go to my office in the morning and all I would see until I would go home were numbers. Numbers, Numbers, numbers until you go insane," at this point I felt like I was riding a bike downhill, the words were coming out on their own, probably caused by the reaction of the dickhead on my right.

"And at some point I asked myself — 'Is that how I want to live my live? Ending up hating it?' Because if 30 years from now I would look back and be bored! That's not how I want to live, that's not who I want to be," I ended my speech, looking around at the four band members in the room.

I might have imagined that, but I swear the looks on their faces have softened just a little. Perhaps it wasn't an idea they were foreign to.

Paul nodded and Bill asked Mr Bohnegan to talk about himself a little, leaving me with my thoughts.

I wasn't really listening the man talking about his strong sides, something I had completely forgotten to even mention. I was counting the leafs on the plant in the corner of the room when I heard it.

"... I am stable, meaning I won't take groundless risks or think about leaving a job when I get bored of it, I don't drink or smoke and go to bed early, so I can be productive enough to actually do my job..."

"You must be fun at parties then, " I hissed quietly under my breath and the room went silent. I raised my head in shock, realising I was heard, something that wasn't my intention in the first place.

Perhaps all the eyes would stay focused on me if their owners hadn't turned their gases to Ace, who was laughing his ass off in his chair. His high-pitched cackle was filling the room, not really helping me to calm down, as my mind was busy with something a lot more important. Would apologizing make the situation worse?

I didn't have time to open my mouth and say anything as Ace calmed down and turned to the rest of the group.

"That's it! That was it for me folks! I have my winner," he explained and chuckled again to himself, turning to me and giving me a wide smile. I tried not to look too shocked and confused, but I couldn't help but smile back, almost shyly.

Next to Ace, Bill coughed and asked Mr Bohnegan another question, playing it off as nothing had just happened, but I could swear I saw the corners of his mouth turn upwards before he returned his expression to normal again.

✵✵✵

The other part of the interview felt almost like a trance. They asked me a few more questions, mostly about my degree and other skills, I talked about my teamwork abilities and other things that they must have found important. In the end, Bill promised they would call us in the next couple of days to tell us if we got the job. I then shook hands with all of them, even Mr Bohnegan, grabbed my things and headed home, not feeling extremely proud of myself.

✵✵✵

The band stayed in the studio long after the two candidates left, around that same table, looking through the notes they had taken during the interview. The room was mostly silent, only the sound of pages being turned and Ace and Peter's quiet conversation about something really different than what they were supposed to be discussing. After all they had a decision to make.

Suddenly, Bill cleared his throat to get the attention. The guitarist and the drummer shut up and four pairs of eyes looked towards the manager.

"So, what do you think?"

"My call was pretty clear from earlier, I don't know what I'm even doing here," Ace prompted, waving his hand to emphasize his words, earning himself a glare from Gene.

"I'm with Ace," Peter added, moving a strand of hair away from his face. "I can't imagine spending the whole tour with that guy. Hell, even those two hours were enough for a lifetime."

"Did you see him though," a smile creeped it's way to Gene's face, "I bet if he comes with us he will make sure we're tucked in and locked in our rooms right after the show to make sure we do him no harm. That chick though," his smile turned into a smirk, "I have a few ideas about her."

"Paul?"

Paul didn't answer right away. "I didn't like how she reacted," he finally admitted. "She defended herself, yeah, but you could see the spite in her eyes when she said it, thinking we won't hear. I believe she is the better choice, but still... I dunno," he explained.

"Really? That's exactly what I liked," Gene defended. "The girl has spirit. And the thing he was trying to call her out for... you got to have guts to do that. Besides, her position isn't that important. If she can't do it, we'll find someone else."

Paul remained silent again.

"Her qualification is pretty good to be honest. She must have sat on her ass and studied when she needed to," Bill added.

"Come on, Paul, let's do it. Dive into the deep. That's rock 'n' roll. What's the worst that could happen?" Ace almost whined. Not that much because he thought the choice was important, he just really wanted to leave this place and head to the bar.

Paul looked around the room and finally, looked at Bill. He nodded.

✵✵✵

I was rolling in my bed, listening to my friend Heather rant about her boyfriend's annoying habit of leaving the lights on in every room of her apartment when he visited her. We had postponed our appointment with the rest of the squad, so Heather had decided to come over to tell me all about how much it was irritating her.

It was around 8 o'clock when the phone in the living room rang. I apologized to Heather and ran barefoot across the apartment to pick up.

"Hello, Lillian speaking," I said into the speaker.

The voice on the other end of the line was unmistakeable.

"Evenin'," Ace Frehley greeted, "and welcome to the freakshow, Lady Spitfire" he managed to exclaim, before someone obviously pulled the phone from his hands and Bill's voice was the next thing I heard.

"So, Ms Astra, are you free tomorrow to come to the studio again to discuss the details and for you to sign?" He asked.

"Yes, of course," I confirmed, trying to get over the initial shock, "uh... same time?"

"Perfect. We'll see tomorrow then." He wished me good night and the signal was lost, leaving me still with the phone pressed to my ear. Moments later, an almost goofy smile spread across my face.

Welcome to the freakshow. We'll see about that.

✵✵✵
Sorry about my English, I'm no native speaker, so unfortunately there might be a few mistakes.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I promise I'll give you some real action too. I also promise, Ace wasn't kidding 😏