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THE RAIN WAS HORRIBLE. SOME people enjoy soft summer rains but that torrent was nothing like that. The water was running down the windows of the black limousine, the sound of the drops hitting the glass was filling my head. Bill and I had decided to go straight to the hotel with Paul, Gene and Ace. Peter was in another car, hurrying to greet his wife at the airport.

I had pressed my cheek against the cool material of the window, thinking with my eyes closed. I had just managed to find a position which would be comfortable enough for my hair, since the two big braids I had made in the morning were making every position inconvenient. Everything was back to normal a few days after the incident with Ace. The guitarist was following me around with a guilty look on his handsome face and it took me days to ensure him I wasn't angry with him. He didn't seem to buy it, probably feeling like it was his fault that I decided to quit. I didn't realize why he cared about it that much though.

Nobody else talked about me like I was leaving, not even Bill, who seemed to be testing his reverse psychology on me. He must have believed that if he left me alone and let me calm down enough to have a adequate view on things, I would change my mind myself. And I hated to admit it was working.

Suddenly, I was pulled back into reality by a small nudge on my side, a little below the ribs. Without opening my eyes, I moved my elbow to cover the spot and relaxed against the door again. A second later, I felt a second nudge, this time on my upper right thigh. I moved a bit again, without paying attention to it. The third one was a little over the last one, and I could feel my whole body stiffen and ready to strike. When I felt the nudge again, this time on my biceps, my hand shot and grabbed the finger. It's owner gave me a shocked look, as he didn't even expect that to happen.

"Why did you have to keep poking me?" I asked Ace, quite entertained by the look I managed to bring on his face.

"You didn't need to freak me out! I just wanted to see if you were asleep," he grinned, "apparently you weren't."

I rolled my eyes with a smile and took the same position on the window. A moment after I closed my eyes, I felt someone lightly kick my foot. My eyes shot open, just to see Gene smirking at me. He turned his gaze to Ace, who grinned back. I sighed, moving to a normal sitting position. Obviously, I wasn't going to getting any rest.

We were staying in town for a couple of days to take a little rest before the tour continued with full force. It was enough time for all of us to take a breath from the busy scedule. It was midday and we were returning from the venue the concert took place last night. The owner enjoyed the show so much, that he wanted to speak to the band personally to make sure they hire it when their next tour starts.

I hadn't had enough sleep the previous night as usual. Peter liked to joke that I was too nervous to go to sleep at this point, because I was scared someone might fuck-up again. The rest of the band didn't appreciate his humor, especially Gene, who was incredibly annoyed with the accident that had happened and didn't even speak to anyone for the rest of the day. Ace wasn't too happy about it either, his guilt was probably getting the better of him. The drummer however, still found it hilarious and mentioned it anytime he could.

When we arrived at the hotel, I hurried upstairs to try and catch some sleep. From what I heard, everyone was up to that, so I wasn't really missing anything important.

I took a quick shower and unbraided my hair, letting it fall on loose curls around my shoulders. I liked myself a lot more with curly hair and I admit I was secretly jealous of Gene's and Paul's. The soft black waves were dreamy even when they were stuck on their foreheads with sweat and make-up. My hair was something else. Every grease and hairspray surrendered to the dark brown waterfall, who was really persistent about keeping it's natural straight state. Plus, I really needed a new haircut.

Ugh, so many things to do!

I stuck my tongue out at my reflection in the mirror and walked in the room. I discarded the towel and threw it on the bed, pulling a pair of panties out of my luggage. I looked down at my belly. It had gotten softer and fuller since I started the tour, and since I was eating quite often every day, it surely had the potential of becoming even bigger. I poked it with my forefinger, pouting my lip. I had stopped training, since I wasn't in town and probably, I was eating more because of how stressful the tour had been for me.

I was way too busy inspecting my body in panties that I jumped on my place when the door flew open.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I heard a familiar voice apologize before the door was shut again. I hurried to put on a bra and a t-shirt, jumped back in my shorts and hurried to get in the corridor.

"Paul!" I called, when I saw him leaning on the wall a few feet away from my room, his long hair covering half of his face, which was as red as a tomato.

"Look I didn't mean to... I..." he sighed, "God, I just wanted to talk to you, I..."

"Calm down," I managed to laugh quietly, still feeling my face turn hot from embarrassment, "get in," I pointed to my room. Paul shook his head and headed down the corridor. At the end of the hall was a small coffee table surrounded by a big couch and a pair of arm-chairs. It was in a quiet part of the floor, and at least a few feet away from any of the rooms.

The singer jumped on the couch and softly tapped the seat next to him. I sat next to him and raised my eyebrow. Paul seemed to recover from his embarrassment, because he cleared his throat.

"I wanted to talk to you about what happened the night the police came over. The point was, I was in my room with a girl. She had just entered the room, when I heard the voices from the corridor. Then you showed up and went to check, so I decided everything was fine. Then I made a small talk with her and...," he eyed me closely, then sighed. "Promise you won't make fun of me."

I scoffed. "I am the last person that has the right to make fun of you."

"Okay," he sighed, although I could see a small smile appearing at the compliment I made him, "it turned out she was sixteen."

My eyes widened. "No way."

"Way," he stated, "it was also her job to go from room to room, she was a hooker. And yeah, then the police knocked on the door, and I completely freaked out... you promised!"

"I am not laughing!" I defended myself, putting my palm over my mouth. I wasn't making fun of the situation he had been in. Still, I didn't know if it was his reaction or the accusing sound of his voice that made the laughter rise up my throat.

"Yeah, right... well, that's pretty much what happened. When they left I send her away immediately, but I was still pissed. Then I guess just took it out on you. And I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do... just tell me, okay."

I looked at him, trying to seem like I was deep in thought. "Not accepted."

His dark eyes widened, "But, I —"

"After all," I interrupted him, "you just saw me naked. You owe me more than that. But I guess if you let me take three KISS t-shirts for free we might be even," I grinned, waiting for him to answer, proud that I managed to mislead him.

Quickly, the look on his face changed from dumbfounded to relieved and he reached out and gave my shoulder a shove. I dodged is easily and stuck my tongue out at him, making him roll his eyes.

"I'm glad we could figure this out," he said, pushing his body up to stand from the couch. However, he relaxed against the cool leather again and looked at me questioningly. "What do you need three t-shirts for?"

"One's for my dad, one for my brother and one for me," I explained, "wait, I need one more for my cousin, then four, I need four."

Paul let out a quiet laugh. "I didn't know you had a brother."

"I do. He's nineteen. He moved out last year because he got accepted in Yale. And yeah, mom and dad took off with him."

The singer gave me an impressed look, moving his leg over the other and making himself more comfortable on the couch. "Cool, I have an elder sister, she didn't go to Yale though."

"Yale alumni or not, I would still reach across the table just to slap him. All little siblings are pain in the ass."

Paul's lips formed a small, almost careful smirk. "And all older siblings are rude and nasty," he stated.

"That's because we became parents to children we never made. We're quite salty about it!" I exclaimed, making the man laugh.

"Okay, touché," he said with a smile on his face.

"Do you and your sister keep in touch?" I asked. The smile disappeared from his features and his shoulders fell, like he carried some invisible weigh that was about to crush him. He shook his head.

"No, that's... that's touchy subject."

I nodded, suddenly silenced by his reaction. Perhaps it would have been better if he had left when he wanted to.

"What about your cousin?" He asked, taking me by surprise. I thought he would just apologize and go, probably leaving things as they were, staying the only KISS member I felt way too distant.

I felt a wide, slightly silly smile spread across my face. "My cousin is a punk —"

He let out a loud sound, something between a surprise and misbelief, quickly looking around to see if anyone heard him. I rolled my eyes. Primadona.

"Let me finish. She is a punk with perfect grades. My aunt freaked out when she cut off, dyed her hair and started going to school with the ripped black clothes. She was probably thinking that Heather would stop studying."

Paul shook his head. "I was barely allowed to enter the school because of the hair a few years ago. And now..."

We talked like that for a long time, the sound of the rain mixing with our words and laughter. I told him about my life, my hobbies and interests. He didn't talk that much about himself, but listened to me with undisguised interest and asked a lot of questions, which was quite surprising for me.

We lost track of time and were both surprised to hear voices coming from the other end of the hallway, where the stairway was. One of them was gruff and male, the other one soft and unfamiliar and by every means female. Paul and I turned our gazes to the stairs and soon saw the Peter, who had two suitcases in his hands. His hair and clothes were wet but he didn't seem to care, since he had his eyes on the short woman beside him.

Her long straight hair was wet and the heavy strands were hanging around her face. Their color was black, an even darker shade then Gene's hair. She had Peter's jacked draped over her shoulders, the leather wet from the rain. No matter how soaked they both were, they were smiling ear to ear.

Paul grinned and jumped from the couch. "C'mon," he said, "Peter will definitely want you to meet someone."

I followed him down the hall. When the woman saw him, she walked to him and pulled him for a hug.

"Ugh, you're cold, you're cold and you're wet," Paul groaned, but still made no movement to push her away, wrapping his arms around her instead. She laughed an let him go.

"Lydia," Peter called behind her, "meet Lillian Astra. Lillian, this is my beautiful wife Lydia."

The woman gave the drummer a playful shove and rolled her eyes. "Flatterer," she laughed, though I could see her cheeks redden almost unnoticeably. She turned to me an reached her hand out for me to shake.

"I have heard a lot about you, Lillian. Just good things, which is surprising, considering how much someone likes to complain."

"When you get to Ace you'll probably hear more," Peter commented, making me blush slightly. Lydia must have noticed my reaction because she smiled.

"I can see why, she's cute."

"Try her when she's screaming in your face," Paul murmured, making me glare at him. He gave me a small smile and I couldn't help but return it.

"I'd love to get to know you, but I think I need to at least change," Lydia explained, spreading her arms to emphasize her point. Her clothes were soaked and Peter's wet jacket certainly wasn't an improvement to her wet outfit.

"Sure, see you at diner?" I asked and she nodded. Peter picked the suitcases up from the ground and Lydia followed him to his room. Soon, it was again just me and Paul standing in the middle of the empty corridor.

"Uh, I could really use a nap," he said, running his fingers through his hair.

"Sure," I agreed, "see you later then?"

He nodded and gave me another one of his small smiles, turned around and walked back to his room.

As I closed the door behind my back, I remembered the afternoon I spend with him and thought that perhaps there might be something human in Paul after all. I shook my head and got ready for bed.

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If I post once a week but they are like long chapters do we have a deal?