KISS Imagines

Paul Stanley #9

"Paul can repair his own boot," you muttered, sitting down with one of Paul's platform boots in your hand. You set it down in your lap and went straight to work. "I don't even work here and I have to fix a boot!"

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, followed by a voice. "Hey, Y/N?"

It was Peter.

"What?" you asked without looking up.

"Someone is in a bad mood and you might have to come to his rescue."

"If it's Gene, then no." You inspected the star designed boot, then frowned. How did Paul even mess it up?

"It's not Gene. It's Paul," he said.

Peter's words surprised you. Paul was in a bad mood? That was new. You looked up and raised your eyebrows at the drummer who only had half his makeup done. "Paul?"

"Yeah. Ace has been trying to cheer him up but it's not working. So we thought maybe you could talk to him." Peter shrugged. "He's even refusing to participate in the concert."

That astounded you.

It wasn't like Paul. What could cause him to be like this? To make him get in a bad mood, especially on the night of a concert? One thing for sure is that you didn't want the show to go on without Paul, so you decided to see what was going on and possibly cheer him up. Lighten the mood. And if everything fails, then well, you weren't sure what will happen. You figured that the band will perform without him, though that would be odd. But what can you do?

"Thanks, Peter. I'll go talk to him." You stood up from your chair with Paul's boot in hand. "I'll talk to him and repair his boot at the same time."

"Thanks, Y/N. He's in his dressing room."

Like Peter said, Paul was in his dressing room. He sat at a table, staring into the large mirror in front of him. Ace was also in the room, chatting away only to stop when you knocked on the door. It was halfway open.

"Come in!" Ace called.

You walked in, taking note of a silent Paul and a happy Ace. The latter was ready for the concert - his makeup was done and everything. Paul, on the other hand, played with a makeup brush. His star was half painted and he didn't wear any lipstick.

You attempted a small smile. "Hey, guys."

"Hey, Y/N," Ace greeted with a grin.

Paul didn't reply.

Ace got up and made his way toward you. "I don't know what happened, Y/N. First Paul was fine and then he just got in a bad mood. I've tried cheering him up but it's not working."

You let out a sigh. "Okay. I'll try my best. But no promises."

The guitarist nodded, then left, closing the door behind him. A few seconds later you turned to Paul, who was now staring at the table. Makeup products were scattered across it.

"Paul?" You set his boot down and took a few steps toward him. "Are you okay?"

He didn't answer, not even when you reached him. "Paul?"

"I'm fine," he said finally, though you could tell he wasn't. "I'm fine. There's no need to worry about me."

"But . . ." You didn't finish your sentence. Paul went back to work on his star, adding black paint to the rest of it. A sigh escaped from your lips. "Paul, what's wrong? Just tell me. You know I'll listen."

"Y/N."

"All right. I'm not going to force you. Talk to me when you're ready." You moved away, grabbing his boot and sitting down to repair it. Due to being engaged in your work, you didn't notice the fact that Paul was watching you, taking note of how you took care of it diligently.

You could be a wardrobe assistant for them. But unfortunately you weren't. The only reason why you were on tour with them was because Ace invited you. And of course you accepted his invitation, unaware of what effect your presence had on Paul.

But you weren't the reason why he was upset. No way.

He was just in a bad mood.

Several minutes passed and you were still fixing Paul's boot. You wanted to take your time. After all the show didn't start for another half hour, so you had plenty of time.

Paul finished his star, then turned to look at you again. The corners of his mouth turned upward, but only slightly. He liked how focused you were.

Sighing, he gazed back into the mirror to apply his lipstick. The fact that he bothered completing his makeup obviously meant something - this is what you concluded when you decided to glance at him. Perhaps he would go with the show after all. But you didn't know that yet.

No one did.

Pretty soon you finally repaired his boot, setting it down on the floor afterwards. By that time Paul's makeup was fully applied. This made you smile.

"Are you performing?" you questioned.

Paul shrugged, running a hand through his hair. You hummed a bit before getting up, taking his boot with you and walking toward him. Eventually you gave it to him and he put it on. Then you stood behind him, your arms now wrapped around him, resting your head against his.

And at this time his heart was pounding.

"Paul . . ." your voice trailed off as you kissed his head. You moved so that you were now beside him, only one arm wrapped around his shoulders. "Feeling better?"

"A little," he mumbled.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?"

He shook his head.

"Okay." Sighing, you were about to leave when suddenly Paul took a hold of your hand. You glanced over your shoulder, wondering what he wanted.

"Can you stay with me?" he asked. "Until it's time for the concert?"

A smile entered your face. "Sure."

Paul pulled you into his lap and smiled. You chuckled before placing your head on his shoulder, breathing in deeply.

The two of you remained like that for awhile. No words were spoken, for all you did was enjoy each other's company. Though as time went on, it seemed like Paul's mood was being lightened. You liked that.

Finally it was time to go. It was announced that the concert will be starting, and so you got off Paul's lap. He stood up.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said softly. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

"Of course." You grinned. "I'll see you on stage."

"And I'll see you in the audience." Paul was about to kiss your cheek when you suddenly moved your head, making his lips touch yours instead. It was only a short kiss, but the feeling of his lips against yours surprised you.

A chuckle came from him. "Did you like that?"

"Yeah . . ." You smiled. "Yeah, I did."

He kissed you again. It was another short one but loving. "Okay, I think we should go now."

"Good idea," you agreed.

Paul smiled, leading you out of the dressing room. You were happy that Paul was no longer in a bad mood. In fact, he was now cheerful.

And you liked it.