I finally got off my ass and decided to post the story for @cosmicrealmofkissteria‘s Model AU I talked about here! So in this story, Heather McMann is Paul’s makeup artist and fellow exchanger of sass... and they’re the best of friends. I wrote this ages ago, so this probably doesn’t fit in the Model AU anymore, but enjoy it anyway!
Other people were shocked. So many of them shook their head in amazement and asked, either out loud or to themselves, “How the hell is she able to put up with him?”
It was a valid question, Heather supposed. How was she able to put up with Paul Stanley, the notorious “Diva Star” of Peter Criss’s modeling agency?
The answer, she supposed, was that at the end of the day, Paul was no different than the other diva models she’d been employed to work with. They were all the same, really—they bitched about their hair or their bodies (if she had a dollar for every time she heard the word “bloated,” she wouldn’t have to work at all); they had an air that screamed “I’m better than you”; they shrieked about the dumbest of things; and almost every time, they insisted that they could do their own makeup themselves and didn’t need a makeup artist.
And Paul had done all of those things. Admittedly, he had thrown her for a loop at first, because she never thought a guy could be that much of a diva. But eventually, she adjusted, adapted, and made sure he knew she wouldn’t take his bullshit. It was the same thing she’d done with all the others.
But she had never actually befriended them before.
Paul, though, was different. While the other models just tolerated her presence, Paul was the first to actually reach out to her. Heather still didn’t know why, even after working with him for a whole year, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. Yes, he was a diva, and yes, he could be difficult, but she didn’t mind very much. She knew it was all an act, anyway.
But at the moment, Heather wasn’t thinking about such things as that. Right now, it was precisely 9:06 in the morning, and she was very late for work.
She ran into the lobby of the Catwalk Studio chanting “Shit, shit, shit,” under her breath. She had never been this late for work ever. One of the pains of relocating to Los Angeles; shitty traffic and shitty parking.
Lydia looked up at her as she ran in, and they were only able to exchange a quick “Good morning” before Heather ran past her. Peter was going to kill her.
Speak of the devil, she was wrenching open the door to the studio when she almost ran smack into Peter himself. Luckily for both of them, she screeched to a halt before they both ended up on the floor.
“What the hell—Heather! Where the hell were you? Do you realize how late you are?”
Heather straightened up, panting. “I’m so sorry, Peter, it’s just… traffic was horrible, and… that’s the only explanation I’ve got. I’m sorry.”
Peter frowned at her. “It better not happen again. Now get in there. Thanks to you not being here, he’s been bitchier than usual.”
Heather nodded, and went past Peter into the studio. She was just glad Peter wasn’t going to fire her. With anyone else, she would have been worried, but not with Peter; being able to work with his bitchiest model had its perks.
When she entered the studio, she wondered if she was interrupting something. Instead of sitting at the table, where he should have been, he was standing and talking to a man Heather didn’t recognize. The man was tall, taller than Paul, and had long dark hair. Paul flashed him a smile and said something to him, then turned and walked back to his chair. The man’s eyes followed him the whole way.
Heather rolled her eyes. It seemed Paul had set his eyes on a new employee. She just hoped he wouldn’t drive him to quit.
Heather walked over to his chair, making herself known. Paul turned to her. “Finally! I thought you’d finally left me!”
Heather scoffed at him, but still smiled. “Me, leave you? No way. I’m never gonna find another job that pays so well.”
“Oh, so you’re here for the money and not my lovely presence? Rude.”
“Your presence is simply a perk of this job,”
Paul clutched a hand to his chest. “You wound me,”
“I hope it’s internal. God forbid I scar that pretty face.”
Paul laughed. There was a sudden clattering sound, and both of them turned to see the tall man bending down and hastily picking up camera equipment. Heather couldn’t see for sure from the distance she was at, but she thought she saw the tall man’s face turning red.
She jerked her head at the tall man. “So who’s he?”
“His name’s Bruce. He’s my new photographer.”
“Thank God. I thought we were never going to find another one.”
Paul chose to ignore that. “So, what do you think of him?”
Heather looked over at Bruce, appraising him. “He’s pretty cute, I guess,”
“I think I might like this one,” Paul said thoughtfully, watching as Bruce set up his camera equipment.
Heather raised an eyebrow at him. She knew that look. “No,”
Paul turned to her. “No what?”
“No, you are not going to ask him out after work today. And no, you’re not going to hit on him the whole shoot either.”
“I didn’t even say I was going to do that!” Paul protested.
“No, but I could tell you were thinking it. C’mon, Paul, it’s his first day. Wait a week, at least, before you make a move.”
Paul pouted at her. “Buzzkill,”
Heather rolled her eyes as she set out the makeup supplies and tools on the table. “Not all of us flirt with everything that moves, Paul. He’s not going to know how to deal with it if you come on too strong.”
“How would you know? You’ve probably never been hit on in your life.”
Heather frowned and tried to ignore how that comment stung, however accurate it was. “Yeah, because you keep taking away any potential dates.”
She was met with silence. Heather continued to organize the makeup supplies, with her back turned to Paul. She was very sure he had heard how snappish her voice had gotten.
“I’m sorry,”
It was quiet, but she could still hear it. Paul’s hand reached forward and grabbed hers. “Heather, really, I’m sorry. That was a shitty thing to say.” Then, in a voice that was a little more pleading than before, “Please don’t be mad at me.”
Heather sighed. She hadn’t even been that furious at the comment. And yet he was apologizing like he had said something far worse.
He always did that; desperately apologize like this was the time she decided she’d had enough of him and quit. Her quitting was the last thing he wanted to happen—she knew that from the rare occasions he got drunk and called her, sobbing out apologies and begging her not to leave.
Not that Heather would ever dream of quitting.
Heather turned to her friend and grabbed his hand. “I’m not mad at you,” she said. She gave him a lopsided smile. “How could I ever be mad at your pretty face?”
Paul smiled and laughed as she turned to pick up the jar of foundation. “You make a man feel so special when you say things like that. You’re an angel incarnate.”
“Oh, stop, I bet you say that to all the girls… and guys.”
“You got me there. I’m incorrigible.”
“Surprised you know what that means,”
“You say it all the time. Usually paired with ‘diva’.”
Heather laughed. “Because ‘incorrigible diva’ describes you perfectly. Now hold still.”
As Heather began to apply makeup to Paul’s face, he briefly looked back over his shoulder at Bruce. “Do you think he likes me?”
“I mean, you’re kind of at a disadvantage already,” At Paul’s questioning look she continued. “Knowing Peter, he probably already warned him of how much of a bitch you are.”
Paul smiled confidently. “I can work around that,”
“I dunno… he is pretty cute. I might take him for myself.”
He gaped at her dramatically. “You wouldn’t do that to your best friend, would you?”
“What makes you think I wouldn’t do that?”
Paul smiled and batted his eyelashes at her. “Because you love me,”
Heather paused, staring at him for a second, then smiled. “That’s true. Now seriously, hold still.”
All in all, it wasn’t the worst of jobs. The pay was good, really good, she got along well with all the other employees, and she got an unexpected friend out of it. She, of course, had never expected to find a friend in someone like Paul Stanley, but honestly? She wouldn’t have it any other way.
Besides, if Paul decided to pursue Bruce after all, she owed it to him as his best friend to third-wheel them the entire way.
