Disclaimer: KISS, Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons are real persons, and this story is not meant to harm or demean them in any manner. It is a work of fiction. Trynia Merin and other characters are property of the author. Rated R for sexual content and language, so no readers under 18 please.

Monday morning found Trynia striding into her research lab, refreshed and happy. She noticed a note from Dr. Davis, neatly printed with the instructions for that particular week.

"Hmm, I wonder what the guy has for me now," Trynia muttered. She slipped on her labcoat and pushed her goggles into the pocket. Grabbing a few pens she took Dr. Davis' instructions and headed out toward Davis research lab to get the necessary chemicals. Inside the lab, Dwight rested his head in his hands. He pounded the keys impatiently and slammed his hand down with a curse.

"Hey, are you okay?" Trynia asked him, striding in.

"No, thanks to you," he snapped.

"Whoa, wait, what did I do?"

"If I hadn't gone to see Phantom I wouldn't have gotten my ass chewed read on this goddamn project!" Dwight snapped.

"Now wait, you didn't have to come," Trynia reminded him. "I didn't twist your arm..."

"I'm sorry," Dwight said, backing down at the firm stare in her dark brown eyes. "I just... shit... he wanted me to do these calculations, and I thought I did them right, for the protein assay, and I gave them to him and he's telling me they're all wrong and I have to do them again.

"Let me see that," Trynia muttered, and glanced at them. "We were doing this in our last lab... and he's having you do it this way? Why not use Excel?"

"I don't know how to set up the algorithm on the spreadsheet, and neither does Davis..."

"Wait, I have a disc with a perfect spreadsheet me and another student came up with to make it 10 times faster..."

"But if I don't' do it his way..." Dwight's voice trailed off, his eyebrows lowering in frustration.

"He doesn't have to know till you write up your lab book. Just write the numbers down in the lab book, and say you used excel. If he gives you hell then send him my way..."

"Thanks..." Dwight said.

"It's my fault, so I'll help you..." she nodded, and rushed out to find the disk.

By lunchtime, Dwight had finished his number crunching. He taped the spreadsheets into his lab book, and finished writing up the experiment. Trynia checked his figures, and he grinned.

"Thanks, you helped me out of a real pain in the ass," he smiled. "Damn..."

"Well it's not fair of him to not let you use Excel. This isn't QC, and you don't need to validate. For crying out loud you can use 21st century technology..."

"Well I think he doesn't know how to set up Excel for this, so that's why he makes me use a calculator..."

"well if you can set up the formula for the sheet, then you understand the principle the long way. That's how I see it..." Trynia nodded.

"I'm gonna take this to him, and then we can go to lunch," Dwight nodded.

"I'll tell Sharmane," Trynia smiled. "And see if Art and Mel wanna come with us..."

"Great... see you there..."

By mid afternoon, Trynia had finished most of her reagent preparation. She was in the midst of cleaning up when she heard a hated voice say, "Trynia Merin, I NEED to speak with you!"

"Yes Dr. Davis?" she asked, coldly. "What can I do for you?"

"You can explain just WHY you interfered in my student's work," he said acidly. "And why you took it upon yourself to impede his progress under my direction by undermining my authority!"

"Excuse me?" Trynia demanded, whirling around to face him. "I was simply helping him, because he was behind. As I recall, the experiment you have him do is identical to what we do in class, and the students routinely use an Excel spreadsheet to perform the calculations for protein concentration..."

"I want my students to understand the concepts necessary... that is why they must perform all calculations on a calculator. That is sufficient for their needs..."

"You didn't object to your undergraduates using a spreadsheet for the lab..." Trynia breathed, trying hard to keep her heart rate from racing.

"If I had been informed you thought that was an acceptable method I would have insisted otherwise! Yet again you have demonstrated your lack of respect for the proper authority!"

"Sir, I was assisting a friend..." she said, backing up against the lab counter. Her stomach sank, and her blood ran cold.

"Let's just say, Ms. Merin, I have some serious concerns about your work performance, your work ethic and your desire to be a top-notch chemist. I find myself contemplating perhaps a formal complaint to the graduate studies board," Dr. Davis announced, hands on his hips.

Something inside Trynia snapped, and she moved quickly from fear to sheer anger. She had all she could take, and the words tumbled out in an angry slew, "Well I have serious doubts about your performance as a PROFESSOR! What gives you the right to make people feel inferior just because they don't have letters after their name?"

"Excuse me?" Dr. Davis asked, astonished at her sudden shift in attitude.

"You're nothing but a BULLY!" Trynia responded, stepping forward toward him as she came within six inches of him. "A mean spirited bully who gets his rocks off by tormenting those less educated then he!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Let me give you an example. I drive 1.5 hours to school each day but that somehow apparently it is not good enough for you. I put in all sorts of hours that I should devote to my research preparing your reagents, which you constantly criticize if they are even worth using! And for your information, my advisor is more then satisfied with my work! If you'd bother to ASK him instead of jumping to conclusions you'd know!"

"I'm not satisfied... and that is because you should have exercised more prudent planning in your priorities as a teaching assistant, and in the responsibilities entailed. If you are going to attend this school, you must make certain sacrifices..."

"At the expense of my life and liberty and self worth? I DON'T THINK SO!"

"Then perhaps you should consider other alternatives..."

"As a matter of fact, I am. Dr. Goyette and I have a working relationship and I she know that he will give me a favorable review wherever I choose to go. And I might even go to Los Angeles, where it's sunnier and warmer, and the professors have a much better disposition to match the weather!"

"Forgive me for my bluntness, but you are telling me a graduate student has the resources to simply change schools at a whim, not to MENTION finding an inexpensive apartment in Los Angeles."

"Yes. And how do you suppose I do?" she laughed ironically. "Or is it beyond your ability to comprehend that outside your cozy little world I have a LIFE!"

"MS. Merin. I have no further interest in continuing this inane conversation. My complaint to the board will read as follows. Your knowledge of chemistry has been questioned by me on several occasions. Your work ethic is lacking in that you fail to report for necessary duties at a time agreed upon by both of us. You are sarcastic and rude, and very unwilling to learn from your mistakes."

"And you are the paragon of virtue? Making me feel like I'm nothing?" Trynia laughed. "Well.... let me tell you something, Dr. Davis. You are NOTHING to me. Nothing but a bully, and a tyrant who uses his academic acumen to tyrannize unsuspecting students."

Dr. Davis opened his mouth to say something, and barely managed to say, "And clearly this demonstrates my case! Your priorities are way out of order to even deserve to be here. And if you are so inclined to have the money to rush out to LA on a moment's whim, then perhaps you have no business in this atmosphere..."

"And I don't CARE what you think about my life. I do things MY WAY, got it? And as far as the academic council is, GO RIGHT AHEAD and complain! I DARE YOU!"

"My integrity is not at question here. I am not the person who is facing possible expulsion from this program. Have you ever stopped to think what your father might think of this latest development. I met him the other night, you know. He seemed VERY concerned."

"Oh really?" Trynia asked, stopping short. "What did my 'father' have to say?"

"That he would definitely 'put the screws to you...'" said Dr. Davis.

"You know NOTHING about me, Dr. Davis. You've sought to control me with questions about my private life, which is NONE of your business... And for your information that was NOT my father, you spoke to the other night. I love that man. My lover..."

"You're joking..."

"And he probably has enough money to buy this place out and make it the Paul Stanley School of Chemistry. So you see, you mean NOTHING to me. So, yell all you want. I don't care."

Dr. Davis' response was a widening of the blue eyes. He stood agape, mouth a perfect circle to match his eyes. Stammering he finally said, "What...a re you talking about? So you seriously expect me to believe...you are lovers with Paul Stanley of KISS?"

"Yes. That's the truth, since you insist on poking your nose where it doesn't belong..."

"You are... delusional! Us... that supposed... to impress me?"

"Not really, Dr. Davis. But it's the truth. And since you insist on rubbing my lifestyle and choices in my face, I'm letting you know the score..."

The piercing gaze had evaporated into one of surprise and doubt. Disbelief replaced resentment, and the sternness in her own eyes caused him to back away. Fumbling with his hands, he coughed, "Well........Ms. Merin... hem....I expect you in the lab tomorrow."

"You do, do you?" Trynia asked.

"And we shall continue on as planned. Why, yes. Yes, I do."

"What changed your mind?"

"I.....I have a lab to run. This conversation has evaporated into foolishness and I am frankly growing very tired. Now, if you will excuse me..."

"Well, if you'll excuse me, Dr. Davis, I have a LIFE to get back to..." Trynia finally announced. "And you and your foolishness will no longer be a part of it."

Just then Dr. Goyette poked his head and shoulders into the lab, and glanced at Trynia and Dr. Davis standing with clenched fists. Clearing his own throat he asked, "May I ask what this ruckus is in reference to? Half the department can hear this debate!"

Eyes sparkling with fury, she snapped, "Well, Dr. Goyette, apparently I am stupid, lazy and morally loose. And sleepign with a man who's robbing the cradle!"

"Excuse me?" Dr. Goyette asked Dr. Davis. "What is this all about?"

"Ask your friend," Trynia sighed. Turning on her heel, she marched right out of the lab, past her advisor.

Goyette turned to Davis, thrusting his hands into his pockets with a judgmental stare, "Merle, what is this about?"

"Er... well..." Dr. Davis stammered, regaining as much of his dignity as possible.

"What did you say to my student?" Goyette asked, voice dropping to a low tone that sent icy shivers down Davis' spine.

"I....I....I just don't understand it. One minute we are talking and the next she's......."

"Talking, what about?" Dr. Goyette demanded further, stepping forward as Davis took one step backward. "Does SCREAMING constitute talking?"

"I have a right to expect her to perform work as I assigned it. I regret to say that I feel our department will run much more efficiently as soon as she moves on and I am free to choose another student in her place."

"Hmm well I think from what I just heard, you should be careful what you wish for..." Goyette said slowly. "From the looks of this situation, I think she is about ready to walk out of her own volition.

"I appreciate your input. I'm just sorry that it didn't work out. From what I gather.......Ms. Merin has some personal issues."

"What personal issues?" Dr. Goyette asked again, tapping his foot. "Can you please be more specific?"

"It's, of course, up to her, but from what I HEAR, she is dating a much older man and I can see where it's interfered in her assignment." Davis began, dancing around the real issue.

"Since when is that any concern of yours, Merle?" Dr. Goyette asked. "How is her love life affecting her work?"

"Robert, all I'm saying is that you know as well as I do how it works. Sometimes young ladies enter our program, and well, there are outside influences which impact adversely on what we are doing here."

"Merle, I've been a professor here for a long time. There are some students who just cannot function in this environment, but they are good chemist material," Goyette sighed, shaking his head. "And I believe Ms. Merin is intelligent and compassionate. She might not have the same priorities as you or me, but she is passionate about chemistry. She knows how to balance her life, academically and personally."

"I was just discussing with Ms. Merin that by her failing to meet my objectives, I unfortunately was finding it necessary to have to file a complaint with the board. Nevertheless, apparently it is over..." Davis coughed, straitening his tie. "She has left in a huff, and I will concentrate my activities on finding a replacement. I just think that next time, perhaps, I will pick a young male to fill the spot. One not so likely to let love guide his path."

"Oh really?" Goyette said, circling around him and peering at him from the side, which made the other professor very nervous. "Hmmm. First you accuse Trynia of sleeping with an older man, which is none of your business anyway, then you apply a SEXIST attitude? Gender discrimination. Now I think THIS might be a complaint worthy of the school board."

"Sir it's not that... I..."

"I do believe that you have exhibited similar discrimination in the past... Toward female students, especially young Chinese students who worked for you..."

"I... don't know what you're talking about sir," Davis said hastily, pushing glasses up his face.

"Who were too afraid to come forward when you made their lives a living hell, and because of their culture, you KNEW they wouldn't want to dishonor themselves by complaining about it. Especially the Female students. Remember Jingwey Yueh?"

"She worked very diligently for me," Dr. Davis stammers.

"Yes, only because she was AFRAID of you." Goyette corrected, waving a finger in his colleague's face.

"Good Lord, I fail to see what this has to do with...."

"She came to ME repeatedly, when I was the Graduate Chair two years ago, in TEARS, about how she felt she could never live up to your expectations. And she spent much time in the company of a student that I had teaching assisting for my general chemistry class, Terri Mason...Terri Mason was told repeatedly by Jingwey about your outrageous expectations, because she was one of the few students that could be trusted, and Terri came to me, knowing I'd listen... and why do you think she switched to MY group?"

"I don't know... she... was not interested in the project, and requested a transfer..." Dr. Davis stammered.

"So, look for cuts in teaching assistantships to hit our school very soon. And my dear Dr. Davis...you can IMAGINE who we will start with. You may have outside grant money from NIH, but I doubt that will save your butt. When you are put on Academic probation. Not to MENTION the fact that you'll be doing your own lab work for awhile."

"Sir, you have no proof of this..." Dr. Davis protested.

"Oh I do. Because Terri Mason happened to call me herself... as did Jingwey. She has finally decided she wants to come forward and testify about your abusive manner. And Maureen contacted me as well... so I am sure we can straighten this little matter out. So thanks to you we might lose a very big financial contributor in Ms. Mason if this matter is not favorably resolved!"

"I... have some pertinent business elsewhere... pertaining to my sabbatical," Davis stammered. He stumbled out at that point, accidentally knocking over some equipment on his haste out the door.

"Damn, that will be expensive. Payroll deduction OK?" Goyette called after him, shaking his head. Dr. Davis took one more look at him and dashed quickly back to his lab.

By the time Dr. Goyette conferred with Dr. Ellis, and Dr. Marion, the current department chair, Dr. Davis had requested a leave of absence, and an emergency sabbatical. His resignation letter was just being signed by both as he walked in.

Trynia grabbed her purse and almost ran straight out of the building. Anger gave way to tears and fear, and she reached her car in the parking lot. For a moment she slumped into the seat of her Mercedes, burying her head in her hands.

"I really did it now," she sighed, wiping away angry tears. She knew that Paul had another performance tonight, and he had wanted her to come. Sighing she remembered she had a dress and shoes in the trunk, waiting for her to change. Anger, fear and hatred of Davis stirred up from her stomach, exploding into a fresh set of sobs.

Reaching for the hands free telephone she depressed the button, and dialed Terri's number. Perhaps she would find some solace in her friend's own experiences of Villanova. Anxiously she waited for Terri to pick up, and was relieved when she heard Terri's cheerful, "Hello there..."

"Terri thank God..." Trynia half sobbed.

"Tryn, what's wrong... you sound terrible!"

"I am," Trynia gasped, wiping away tears. "I just told Dr. Davis off... he threatened to throw me out of school... report me to the graduate committee..."

"WHAT?" Terri gasped. "Tell me what happened, all of it!"

Tearfully she recounted the conversations of only a few minutes past. AT the end of it she stammered, "Terri, you once made me promise you I'd never drop out of school."

"Well, yes, I did, and you know what? You're not dropping out. You're just refusing to put up with a bully's bullsh**t."

"Then I'm just giving up this teaching fellowship." Trynia sighed. "I NEVER though it'd actually happen.

"Tryn, I have friends in the business out here who would love to talk to you about opportunities, which you can partake in while continuing to live in that beautiful Beverly Hills estate and sharing the bed of one Mr. Paul Stanley."

"Are you sure I have to move out there? Why can't I just stay here?"

"Trynia, it might be easier. Away from the crap there, you can think for yourself... start fresh..."

"Terri, I appreciate the help, but I have to do this for myself. So far, Paul's taking care of me and you're taking care of me, and I'm just sort of taking it all in."

"Trynia, you stood alone when you told that guy to kiss your rear end. You did that by yourself. You should be proud."

"I know... I just...." Trynia sighed, catching her breath. "But I just feel like I'm taking TOO much help. Or doing things the easy way... by leaving."

"By your leaving and REFUSING to give in to this maniac, you're leading the way for others to come forward and agree with what you've said," Terri said sternly. "You're there to LEARN, don't forget, and trust me, from what Goyette said, you have nothing to learn from Davis."

"Are you sure?" Trynia asked.

"Most Definitely. You can walk away from this, if you're not learning anymore.

"But does that mean I have to leave Villanova?" Trynia asked her. "Is it best if I just walk away and transfer elsewhere?"

"Start fresh in a new city and a new school," Terri said. "Dr. Davis will continue to try and make life miserable for you, even after you quit, I'm afraid."

"Terri what should I do?" Trynia asked.

"Look, sweetie, just go enjoy your man's performance tonight. Once you get home, we'll sit down and work everything out."

"I hope so..."

"You did the right thing," Terri assured her. "By the way, Gene says he's proud of you." she laughs.

"Aww... thanks..." Trynia laughed. "But I still owe him for that guitar!"

"He's not worried about, Tryn, but he is getting excited about being able to find the perfect spot for the pictures you're going to paint."

"Oh, that's what he wants?" Trynia wondered. "He conveniently neglected to mention that..."

"He's already mumbling about how he's going to stick a few Merin originals in the nursery."

"You know Gene," she laughed, "He always exacts a price."

"Oh man... do I ever..." Trynia laughed. She could hear Gene in the background, making muffled comments.

"Uh is that the Peanut gallery I hear?" Trynia joked.

"Yep, and the Gallery's yelling at me to ask you if you and Paul enjoyed your festivities after the art show. Apparently, there was a call made."

"You mean that was GENE...." Trynia asked.

"Gene wants you to know that ALL activities must be put on hold when he calls for Paul. I don't know. For some reason, I'm getting the sh**t-eating grin."

"Well you can tell Gene that he has a WARPED sense of humor," Trynia laughed, sadness momentarily forgotten. "And that Paul doesn't take kindly into intrusions into his Tryn time..."

"He just said something about your insatiable appetite."

"Say what?" Trynia almost squealed with laughter. "You just tell Gene to take a long walk off a short pier..."

"Now he's laughing hysterically. Girl, I'd better let you go get ready for your man, while I administer progressive discipline to mine."

"Goodbye Terri... and thanks..."

"Anytime. We'll get you straightened out."

Only stopping at Sharmane's to dress, Trynia headed off to New York City for that night's performance of Phantom. She found a place to stash her car, and took a taxi to the Majestic on Broadway. By now, the box office manager knew her face well, and let her backstage immediately. She was led back to Paul's dressing room, struggling to keep herself composed.

However all attempts failed when she saw Paul sitting in front of his makeup mirror, his voice burbling through the vocal warm-ups she knew he did every time. At the sound of her entry, he turned, with a warm smile on his face. He had just about completed getting his costume on before he would report to makeup.

"Hey sweetheart," Paul smiled, rising and turning to her. Trynia buried her face in her hands, tears dripping down her cheeks again.

"Paul... I...."

"Tryn, Hon, you look... have you been crying?" he asked, rising from his chair and moving over to her. He slipped his arms around her waist and hugged her tightly.

"Uh, I had a crappy, simply horrible day..." she sniffled into his jacket front.

"I can see that. What happened?" he asked, stroking her hair. He held her out at arm's length, tilting her chin with one hand while still keeping the other snugly around her waist.

"I hope it doesn't bum you out and ruin your performance," she stammered.

"Tryn, I'm starting to panic. What happened? Do we need to leave?" Paul asked, face wrinkling with extreme concern. "Take it easy, and relax... tell me what happened..."

"No... Paul... I don't think so..." Trynia gasped, taking a deep breath. "Davis... he finally pushed me to far... And... well... I basically told him...."

"Pushed you too far how? Did he DO something to you?" Paul demanded, voice rising in volume. His grasp on her tightened protectively.

"He finally accused me of being insubordinate, and that he threatened me with academic probation..."

"Accused you of what? Academic probation? For God's sake, that's...that's impossible! He can't do that!"

"Because he heard about me giving free tickets to my professor, and my fellow research students. Dwight, a student who worked for him, must have told him... because he was Sharmane's boyfriend, and they were all there last night for the premiere, and then when Dwight had problems with his research the next day I helped him because I felt responsible for Dr. Davis yelling at him..."

"Wait, let me get this straight, you helped another student out of a jam, and Davis YELLED at you?" Paul demanded. "This is freaking ridiculous! What the HELL is up with that shit?"

"Davis assumed I was not being serious in my academic studies, and that I was a bad influence on his research assistant Dwight...."

"That's damn ridiculous right there." Paul snorted, dark eyes flashing with fury. "THAT DOES IT... if that Asshole thinks he can do this crap to my woman..."

"Well you know what ELSE I told him?" Trynia asked.

"I know what you SHOULD have told him, but you have too much class, my dear."

"That my personal life was NONE of his business...And I told him that his threats meant NOTHING to me..." Trynia said firmly, as Paul wiped away her tears. "And that I didn't need his damn fellowship..."

"Excellent," Paul nodded. "You're damn right you don't need it."

"I DARED him to go to the academic committee..."

"He should be begging you to stay, not pushing you out the damn door." Paul shook his head.

"He then said he refused to continue this 'inane conversation'.... and then..." Trynia stammered, lowering her eyes. "I... oh god I shouldn't have...."

"This has gone too far. Baby, he's upsetting you now on a daily basis. This man has major problems and he's taking them out on you."

"Paul... I hope you're not mad at what I'm gonna say to you..." Trynia hesitated.

"Tryn...." Paul begged. "Please TELL me."

"But he started saying things about me being with an older man..."

"Goyette?"

"No... He commented about my 'father'. And I said "You know nothing about me... that was my LOVER!"

"Your father? This isn't making any sense. Wait! You talking about ME?"

"And then I said you had enough money to buy the whole damn department, and call it the Paul Stanley school of chemistry...."

"And then..."

"He wouldn't believe me. But then I told him I didn't care... He thought I was delusional..."

"You're damn right I could afford to hurt that school." Paul nodded adamantly.

"Yes... I know..."

"My and Terri's resources TOGETHER..." he added, stroking her cheek affectionately.

"I was tired of the cover up, the dancing around the issue. I am Paul Stanley's girlfriend... after all.."

"This is getting worse and worse. I understand you want to do this, but it's self-destructive at this point. I sure as hell hope you told this guy to kiss your ass as you walked out the door."

"I told him I wouldn't be back next morning..." Trynia said. "And you KNOW what he did? He begged me to stay, when the reality hit him..."

"And then...."

"And I told him no."

"Tryn.....that's wonderful," Paul exclaimed, happiness evaporating his scowl.

"I'm so scared Paul..."

"Forget that mother....err....that freakin' ego-maniac. You surely do not need him to get where you want to be."

"No, I don't..." Trynia nodded, still sniffling. "But what do I do, Paul? I even called Terri for help..."

"Look, Hon, there's nothing to be scared of. When we go home, we'll find you a program where you can finish and be happy. Besides, your painting gallery is there, don't forget."

"How can I REALLY leave this all behind?"

"Like that, sweetheart. You and me both... out of here..."

"But what about your show?" she asked him.

"Because somewhere in California, there is a school that will appreciate you."

"I... that's... whoa... a whole coast away..." she stammered. "That's a HUGE step!"

He sighed, "I have to go on soon. It's just.....I know this is probably awful of me when you are in such misery, but I'm excited as hell over the possibility of you starting over in California."

"Yes Paul," she said quietly, not wanting to quash his sudden happiness. Now was not the time to debate the details. He had a show to do, and she would find the time later.

"I know you will come to love it as I do. You said so yourself, how much you missed it there."

"Thank you..." she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek softly.

"I'm proud of you, my biggest fan. You don't stand for anyone's garbage."

"No, I guess... I don't," she laughed sadly. For a moment she was tempted to end her sentence with 'for all the good it did me,' but it somehow seemed inappropriate. She struggled a brave smile for Paul instead.

"Hey, and look......"

"What?"

"My timing is absolutely miserable, but my intentions were good. I sort of have a surprise...." he smiled, stroking her back. "......which I HOPE will make you happy."

"Uh... what?"

"....and will show you how much I love you."

Trynia tensed, and he looks her directly in the eyes, "Uhhhh, Trynia, you know my parents live close by."

"And...."

"I guess I thought rather than tell you before and watch you stress out over what to wear and how to talk...."

"That I'd just sort of invite them to tonight's performance. Spur of the moment."

"Oh no..." she groans, burying her face in her hands.

"Honey, look, this isn't exactly the scenario I pictured for this, but well, they're here." he looked helplessly at her. "And they'll love you. I know they will."

"I hope to hell I get SOMETHING right," she sighs, hugging herself.

"I know I sprung this on you at a really lousy time. It's just I thought you'd be happy."

"I'm just still in shock..." Trynia stammered, wiping away a fresh crop of tears.

"Not from this..."

"It's what I meant to happen anyway." He pauses and puts his hands on her arms, "You've had a long day and I'm afraid I just made it worse. I tell you what. They're supposed to meet me in the lobby after the show. If you're not up to it, just walk on out and I'll meet you at home later. I'll tell them you were sick."

"For your sake I'll try..." she sobbed, she burying her face in his chest and hugging him tightly.

"They'll understand." Paul urged her. "I hope so. Dad, he's....he's a great guy. Really friendly. Everyone says we're just alike. Mom, she's more the "I've got to get to know you" type, but she'll warm up to you."

"Well at least I'm not some... airhead..." she laughs sadly.

"You have two things going for you in your favor with mom. You're not a model and you're not Linda."

"Very true... I'm a chemist... or WAS..." she sighs.

"You STILL are. Tryn, my dad managed a furniture store and mom stayed home with us kids. They are basic, normal people. It's not like you're meeting Donald and Ivana Trump."

"Well thank God for that... just wait till you meet my parents..." Trynia laughed through her tears. "They're normal more or less..."

"Huh. No offense, but I think I'm going to have the harder time of it. I'm pretty sure mom and dad won't accuse you of robbing the cradle with their sweet innocent little boy." Paul laughed nervously. "Now, YOUR dad on the other hand...."

"Yeah...." Trynia nodded. "But let's worry about that then..."

"Look, the call is yours. If you're not up to it, they will understand."

"I just want to FORGET about this afternoon..." Trynia sighed. Paul grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her tears again.

"Have you seen them before? You'd recognize them from the pictures at home, wouldn't you?"

"I think so..." Trynia nodded. "I saw them on that KISS interview for VH1..."

"Great. Again, sweets, I'm sorry. My timing failed miserably."

"Well... so did mine..." she sighed. "I can't BELIEVE I told Dr. Davis... what I did?"

Someone poked their head into the door, and looked apologetically between Paul and Trynia as he said, "Mr. Stanley, you're overdue for makeup..."

Paul glanced anxiously between him and Trynia, who urged him along. Sighing, he said, "Sweetheart.....I've got to go....I'll see you in the lobby, hopefully. Wait for me. I love you."

Trynia waved goodbye, and flopped exhausted on the makeup chair. She pulled off her glasses and buried her hands in her arms. Again, she let the tears flow, uninhibited by anyone or anything. It felt good to cry, even though she knew her life had irrevocably shifted into another path. A door had closed and another had swung wide open, and Trynia was not sure she could pass through it.

She couldn't ever go back to a so-called normal life. Now she was Paul's woman, and with that came a whole new set of rules, no matter how much she tried to pretend they were not there. It came back to haunt her, that she would never again be the same person whose car broke down that fateful day.

A few minutes later, Trynia heard the doorknob click. She straightened up automatically, running hands through her styled hair, which had gone wild with her tearing her fingers through it. Grabbing Paul's brush she struggled to work it into a presentable form once more.

In the door walked a young blond stood, wearing a neat white blouse with a lace collar, and black pants. She was perhaps 21 at the most, the age of many college students she had seen graduate, and she carried a small basket of cold cream, with a paper bag in her other hand. At sight of Trynia she started, and apologized, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize anyone was in here."

"No... it's all right..."

"You must be Paul's fiancée'..." she stammered, and almost backed into the door in her haste.

"Yes..." Trynia laughed slowly.

"Wow, you are really, really lucky. Paul's very gorgeous." The girl stammered out. "And talented."

"I suppose," she laughs. "Man this day has been unreal..."

"You're telling me! Wow... only the second night of performances... but Paul, he's amazing!"

"He is... isn't he?" Trynia sighs, and dries her eyes on some tissues.

"Yes. He's done a great job here. He's been so nice to me."

"I'm sure," she says, rubbing her aching head. At that moment, she couldn't care less that was talking about Paul. She felt as if she was part of something she had no control over.

"Sometimes, you know, they aren't. My job isn't exactly high profile if you catch my meaning," the assistant chatted, closing the door behind her. She placed the paper bag down on Paul's makeup table, and set the cold cream next to it. Trynia continued to sit, resting her face in her hands, still in shock at what happened this week

"Well I know what you mean," Trynia muttered.

"I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you must be the luckiest girl in the world." The assistant said.

"I guess one would think so," Trynia sighed, still weary.

"Anyhow....look....I'm sorry I went on and on. I hope I didn't bother you. Please tell Mr. Stanley I've left everything he needs."

"I will... and look..." Trynia said, reaching for the girl's arm. "About feeling like your job is not glamorous..."

"Yes?" she asked, her chest heaving up and down a little faster. There seemed such nervousness in her eyes.

"Every job is important..." Trynia said, grabbing her hand. "Take it from someone who knows, firsthand..."

"Well, sure, I suppose." The girl said cautiously, afraid of saying the wrong ting.

"Yes... it is..." Trynia insisted. "And don't let ANYONE stand in the way of your dreams..."

She laughed nervously, "I guess I can't see these stars getting their own supplies, so I guess you're right."

"No. They were once you. And in 10 years you could be the star that someone else is getting the stuff for," Trynia said, fixing her gaze into the younger girl's blue one. Glancing carefully at her face, she realized how young the slim girl was. Only eighteen at the most.

"Oh......I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that to be rude against your boyfriend. Paul's been nothing but sweet. I didn't mean it like, that." She apologized.

"No, that's not what I mean..." Trynia said, motioning her to sit down.

"Oh, good, because I wouldn't want him mad at me. I just started here."

"I mean... that if you have a goal, don't be afraid of starting out in a position that seems unglamorous..." Trynia said. "Just know that it doesn't last forever, and someone will appreciate your hard work."

"Wow, I hope so."

"Yes. I know so."

"That's....that's nice of you to say. You didn't have to do that." She said slowly.

"I didn't." Trynia nodded. "But after the day I've had, it made me realize how important it was. Because someone I worked for, they treated me like nothing..."

"I really appreciate it."

"You are welcome. It doesn't matter if someone is 'higher up' then you are... Because to get that way, they started out from where you are... and they sometimes forget what it's like..."

"Hey, it's just a thrill to talk to Paul's girlfriend. It's really cool that you care." She said.

"Hon, I'm nobody special," Trynia sighed.

"Are you kidding? Man...."

"Well, I guess Paul thinks I'm special," Trynia laughed. "Look, I'll let him know that you got everything ready, okay?"

"Wow, I really, really would like that." She nodded eagerly.

"I will." Trynia promised. "What is your name?"

"My name is Sarah...in case it comes up."

"I'll remember," Trynia promised again.

She giggles again. "I'm sure he wouldn't recognize my name, but he teases me because I'm constantly darting in and out all the time."

"Are you a 'gopher' then?

"Yeah, pretty much. I do what they tell me. Or what no one else wants to do. Paul....Mr. Stanley...he teases me that nobody in theatre should have to move so fast. I guess I just want to get everything right."

"He does too," Trynia nodded. "Can you guess what I had to do for a living once?"

"Oh, gosh, I'll bet I can't."

"Guess..." Trynia smiled.

"Well, you're dating a rock star so you probably came from money."

"And?" Trynia asked.

"I'm sorry. I didn't' mean to be rude." Sarah apologized, flushing as she looked away.

"No you aren't. Let me tell you a secret..." Trynia assured her, and waved her to lean over. She wanted to stop this inflated notion the girl had of how she met Paul.

"Sure!"

"I'm a normal person," Trynia whispered, as if it were a big secret. "I washed test tubes in college... when I was getting my degree. And until today, I was a teaching assistant in Villanova, helping students to learn chemistry...."

"Damn.....err....man, you must be really smart." She shook her head.

"I was a gopher... dofer... but I wasn't appreciated..." Trynia said.

"I can tell, about you being a normal person and all. What I mean by that, is that you actually are talking to me."

"Anyone can do chemistry... if they put their mind to it," she smiles. "I guess as a teaching assistant I had to teach people who didn't believe they could do it... I could teach you... and if I can teach Paul, I can teach anyone chemistry. I could never do Theatre..."

"Some day I want to produce on Broadway. Which is somewhat silly, I know, but..."

"I couldn't produce a Broadway show." Trynia laughed. "but I'm sure you could."

"My dad, he says I need to start somewhere, so here I am."

"Good place to start," Trynia agreed. "At the Majestic, for Phantom..."

"My boyfriend, he works in the prop department here, so I guess this is really a good place to start for me. Of course, he's NO Paul Stanley."

"No, but he must be a nice guy, to support you." Trynia asked her.

"Oh, sure. I mean, we get along well. He's OK."

"That's good..." Trynia nodded.

"Yes, and like I said, everyone is really, really nice. Noel, she's even given me voice tips before."

"Well someday you could be Christine..." Trynia shrugged.

"Oh, I'm not singer. I don't think I could."

"Has Noel told you about the importance of diaphragmatic breathing?" Trynia asked her.

"Yes, I remember that." Sarah nodded.

"And singing not in the back of your throat, but from down here..." she says, hand on her belly. "It will take you a long way... And you WONT wreck your voice like so many singers do. And learn to read music... You'd be so surprised how many singers DONT'"

"I just don't think I can compete with the voices we've got here, but like you said, don't give up on your goals, right?"

"Yes right!" Trynia reminded her. "You have your whole life ahead of you."

"You seem like a nice person. I'm glad I got to meet you. I thought when I came in that maybe...well...you looked like you might not feel well. I didn't want to intrude."

"It's great to meet you too Sarah."

"And one more thing I wanted to tell you, the flowers you sent to Paul, he kept them here for like a week or two. He had me water them every night. I just thought it was sweet. Like I said before, you're very lucky."

"Aww I didn't realize..." Trynia smiled, flushing. "That means a lot to have you say that."

"Yeah, I think they died a long time before he threw them out." Sarah said. "Most guys, they don't do that, you know."

"I guess.... they don't," Trynia shook her head. "Wow..."

'Hey, I won't keep you, though. I think they're starting any minute. Enjoy the show, OK? And thanks....for your words."

"You are welcome... Sarah." Trynia smiled, and shook Sarah's hand. The girl laughed again.

"I don't even know your name, I'm sorry. Noel, she teases Paul by calling you Paulette. I guess it's sort of a joke now."

"Trynia. Trynia Merin. But Some people called me lady Starchild," she groans.

"I like that much better."

"Thanks..." Trynia nodded, and took her purse. She got up from the chair, and smiled warmly to Sarah before leaving.

After the show, Trynia headed out into the lobby for some fresh air, and to wait for Paul to emerge. It would be a good thirty minutes or more before the makeup would be stripped off, to reveal the man she knew and loved underneath. Sitting on a chair, she glanced at the patrons exiting the theatre still, in hopes of seeing the Eisens among them.

Finally she noticed two people striding down from the side, a man and woman she recognized from the interviews and other pictures. They were talking animatedly about the show, their accents very apparent, and far stronger then what Paul retained. Swallowing her nerves, she rose from the chair and casually strolled up toward them. They glanced back and forth, Mrs. Eisen wondering where their son was, while her husband assured her he would be out any moment now. Paul's father was neatly dressed in a charcoal grey suit, with a black tie and crisp white shirt. His black shoes were polished to a mirror finish. His mother wore a purple and black velore top, with a long black skirt and sensible flat shoes. Her hair was coifed into a thin style of curls that clung tightly to her head, and she carried a black aligator handbag tucked under her arm.

"Mr. and Mrs. Eisen..." she asked, clearing her throat.

Mr. Eisen turned his head and asked, "Yes? May I help you?"

"I hope you enjoyed the performance," Trynia started, noticing the warmth in his eyes. They twinkled, looking into hers while the more cautious gaze of the wife pierced through her with stern judgement. Trynia recognized that look, it mirrored that from her own mother!

"Why, yes, we did. I hope you did too." Mr. Eisen said.

"Yes, I most definitely did," she says, almost losing her nerve.

Mrs. Eisen tapped her watch, and asked, "Bill, what time did Paul say he'd meet us?"

Mr. Eisen answered, "He'll be out in just a minute, hon. I'm sure he's got a lot to do."

Trynia sensed she was receiving a polite fannish brush off. They probably thought she was a KISS fan trying to glean information or just come to gawk at them. Trynia continued to glance around for Paul, unsure of what to do. Mr. Eisen smiled at her as he glanced around as well, while Mrs. Eisen ignored her. Should she tell them who she was, or let Paul introduce her? She opened her purse and reached in for some spearmint gum to chew on. Unfortunately, she was so nervous the bag dropped from her fingers and landed right in front of Paul's parents.

Paul's dad picked it up, and his eyes met hers with a look of sympathy. Politely he handed it back to her, and said, "So, ma'am, I assume you are a Kiss fan?"

"Well... yes but that's not why I'm here sir," she said carefully.

"An opera lady, then. I should have pegged you right away. I am sorry." He said.

"Ah, I take it you are into opera yourself?" she asked him.

"Eve and I try to get to shows occasionally, being from New York. Paul.......our son....makes sure that we are well entertained when he visits."

"My favorite is Madame Butterfly... by Puccini..." Trynia said casually. "I also like Carmen..."

"We saw Carmen in Paris..." Mr. Eisen said to his wife.

"No dear it was ROME..." Mrs. Eisen corrected him, still not looking at Trynia.

"I saw Carmen in New York... at the Met..." Trynia said.

"It's a pleasure to finally get to talk to you."

"Likewise. By the way, I am Bill Eisen and this is my wife Eve.":

"I'm Trynia. Trynia Merin..." she says, nervously.

"Trynia. Hmm," Mr. Eisen muttered, glancing more carefully at her. "I think perhaps.....do you know our Paul?"

Eve gasped, 'Trynia. That's Paul's...." before Mr. Eisen waved a hand for silence.

"Well... yes..." she stammered. "I do know your son, Stanley Eisen..."

At this, Mrs. Eisen raised her eyebrows, and Mr. Eisen said, "Trynia. We have heard a great deal about you."

"Good, I hope," she laughed. Just then, she saw Paul himself emerging from the back, glancing around the lobby anxiously. He stopped before one couple who held out their program for him to sign. At sight of them, he strode quickly over and leaned down to kiss his mother on the cheek. Trynia felt him press a soft but brief kiss to her lips, before turning to his father and hugging him. Father slapped son on the back, rubbing him warmly.

"What took you so long dear?" Mrs. Eisen asked. "I don't recall it taking forty-five minutes to take off makeup... not when you were on the road in your band..."

"Dear, he probably had to sign autographs even here, you know how it is," Mr. Eisen told her.

Paul moved over to Trynia again, and drew her to his side, wrapping an arm around her hips. Turning her toward his parents he said, "Mom and Dad, I want you to officially meet the love of my life, Ms. Trynia Merin."

Trynia had their full attention, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Mr. Eisen spoke first, taking her hand and shaking it gently, as he said, "Trynia, it's a pleasure. You are indeed a beautiful lady."

"My thanks, sir," Trynia answered.

Mrs. Eisen took Trynia's hand for a brief moment and pulled it away as she said, "Hello."

"Hello Ma'am," Trynia nodded with respect.

"Paul, your lady here is quite an opera fan, it appears."

"I... well... sang in a choir when I was little..." she blurted out. "My voice teacher... well she was an opera star... and she encouraged me strongly to attend.... "

Immediately Mrs. Eisen commented, "Of course. Paul always dates models or singers or actresses."

"No ma'am, I'm not a singer or a model. I'm a graduate student in Chemistry actually..." Trynia blurted out. Mrs. Eisen gave her a strange look of surprise.

"Mom, call off the dogs, OK? This isn't the inquisition," Paul quickly interrupted.

"And I can't act my way out of a paper bag..." Trynia joked uneasily.

"Well, neither could Linda." Mrs. Eisen sniffed. Mr. Eisen cast her a mean look.

"But I can paint... reasonably well... when I'm not in the chem lab..." Trynia added quietly.

"Don't let her fool you. She's wonderfully talented as well as beautiful," Paul gushed, stroking Trynia's hip with his hand as he pulled her even closer to his side.

"Oh man, please Paul, you're embarrassing me!" she groaned, flushing bright red.

"Trynia, if I may call you that, Paul has mentioned that you have set up a painting area in his house. I would really like to see some of your work some day." Mr. Eisen said.

"I would love to show you, sir," Trynia smiled, tension easing a bit at Mr. Eisen's friendly smile.

"Paul paints too. Honey, you need to paint more often." Mrs. Eisen told Paul, resting her hand on his arm and giving it a little shake.

Paul rolled his eyes teasingly and said sarcastically, "Sure, mom, in my spare time."

"Well, I have tried to encourage Paul to paint actually," Trynia said quickly. "He has a good concept of positive and negative space..."

"I'm trying to encourage a creative streak in her, so she can create enough artwork to redecorate our house." Paul laughed. Mom raised an eyebrow at the mention of "our". The look alarmed Trynia, who felt as if she wanted to run away and hide.

"She's going to put some pieces in an art show. She's just begun on the LA scene and already she has sold two pictures." Paul continued.

"That's wonderful, dear." Mr. Eisen smiled.

"Three... if you count the Starchild portrait," Trynia whispered to Paul. "Remember Rochelle bought that one?"

"Or four...if you count the one that...." he whispers and tickled her.

"That one isn't done yet," she whispered back.

"So, honey, how did you two end up meeting? Paul mentioned you were a fan." Mr. Eisen asked her.

"I er.. well..." Trynia stammered, not sure of what to say. She was so relieved when Paul answered on her behalf.

"Actually dad, Trynia and I met when she had some car problems. I made sure that she was well taken care of so that she could get home again."

"My Stan is very good to women," Mrs. Eisen nodded.

"Yes, he is," Trynia nodded back. "He was the perfect gentleman."

At these words, Paul chuckled, and Trynia winced. However, Mr. and Mrs. Eisen failed to notice. In fact, Mr. Eisen took the comment at face value when he said, "That's great, Paul. The world is a scary place, especially for a young lady."

"Honey, when is Shane coming out to see us?" Mrs. Eisen asked, changing the subject.

"I don't know, mom. It's been difficult with the holidays and all. He just spent some time with me recently."

"Stanley here... told me he was there for Chanukah," Trynia interjected quickly. "And New Years he spent with us..."

"It just seems to me that Linda is none too hasty to make sure he gets out here to see us. I would be willing to bet that Mr. and Mrs. Purcell have had plenty of access to him." Mrs. Eisen sighed.

"A grandson should see his grandma and grampa... both of them," Trynia agreed.

"It's not that we want to make a complicated situation even more so. We just miss him, Stan, and we would like to see him at some point." Mr. Eisen said.

"I know you do, Dad. I'll see what I can do." Paul assured them.

"I'm sure he misses you both very much," Trynia added.

"It makes it tough on us. Erica is all grown... but at least..."

"That's a shame, sir," Trynia sighed. "If I had children, I would want them to see both sets of grandparents... Even if they lived on opposite coasts..."

Mrs. Eisen apparently ignored her when she said, "Paul, we got a Hanukkah card from Linda."

At the mention of the name, Trynia felt Paul stiffen next to her. He leaned on her heavily, and she moved closer to glance sidelong at him. His jaw tensed, and he bit his lip when he said, "Oh..."

"Yes. Apparently, everything is going well. She's married now you know. Such a shame...."

"Eve, perhaps this isn't the place...." Mr. Eisen cautioned her. Trynia held Paul close to her hip, unsure of who Linda was. Was this another ex of Paul's, with some sordid past?

"Bill, I didn't mean to cause waves. I just thought he would like to know. We were talking and Shane, and well....." Mrs. Eisen began.

Paul's discomfort radiated over in to Trynia, his leg shaking against her. He quickly cut into the conversation with , "Hey, look, how about we all go catch a bite and I'll show you Shane's latest report card?"

"Sounds good," Mr. Eisen agreed, his sharp glance at his wife silencing any further comments. "How about that diner on 54th?"

"Good, I'll meet you both there. Shall I call a cab?"

"Heavens no, don't' bother with that," Mr. Eisen said. "We'll hail one!"

Trynia watched as Paul flagged down a cab for his parents, and then walked with Trynia to get another. He said very little, squeezing her hand tightly as they climbed into the vehicle and Paul told the driver where he wanted to go. They sat close, Trynia squeezing Paul's hand tightly.

Paul apologized, "Hon, I'm sorry about that. Mom has a tendency to yap at the mouth about old girlfriends."

"Paul, it's okay." She assured him, stroking the back of his hand. "That doesn't matter anymore."

"Tryn, I feel like I need to say something, but I just don't think I'm ready."

"I understand, love." Trynia said. "Just do what you feel is right. Don't do or say anything that makes you uncomfortable. I'm cool with it... whatever your decision."

"It's just......It's really hard..." Paul sighed deeply.

"I know..." Trynia nodded, leaning over to kiss his cheek softly. Paul kissed her back, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"I've been trying to think of a way..." Paul sighed yet again.

"Paul, look, I can't tell you the right or wrong way." Trynia probed, unsure of what he was talking about. Was Linda an ex wife perhaps?

"Hell, Tryn, what's done is done. I can't change that." Paul slapped his knee in frustration. "It's YOU I'm afraid to tell."

"Is this another person you married? or is it an old girlfriend? I'll understand." Trynia began, struggling to get him to understand she was ready for him to unload his burden. "nothing surprises me about you or Gene anymore."

Dark eyes stared into the night, peering into some distant memory. A noise in his throat sounded like a sigh choked off, his hand shaking in hers. She hated to see his jaw clenching and unclenching, the eyes filled with pain so tangible it stabbed into her heart.

"Paul I HATE to see you in pain." Trynia begged. "Please... tell me..."

"Linda was someone I met on the Love Gun tour. She traveled to a few cities with us." Paul finally admitted. "She stayed in my room. And you can imagine the rest."

"Yes," she nodded. "Did you have a child with her?"

"She went home, thought I'd never hear from her again, the usual. Next thing I know, Aucoin's got a message for me from her." He finished. Paul glanced away quickly. He pulled his arm from around her shoulders, angling his body away as if anticipating her possible rejection. Trynia felt a knot rising in her own throat, not out of jealousy, but out of sympathy for the pain, she felt from him.

"Paul, it's okay." Trynia soothed, grabbing his hand. "I'm sure Gene has kids he doesn't know about..."

"She tells me that her parents are really religious, but that they are OK with it and she wants to raise the baby. Damn it, Tryn, I'm a big rock star at the time. I'm nobody's dad." Paul choked, voice wavering and cracking with anger.

"I know..." Trynia nodded, squeezing his hand between both of hers. "But that was then."

"I told her I can't be there for her, but that I'd support the child."

"You did what you could, Paul." Trynia said, hoping he'd believe her. "You tried to take responsibility..."

"In exchange for money, she'd have to keep deathly silent about it. I didn't want the press hovering around me. I'm a private person, and I was then too."

"So, the child didn't know who its dad was?" Trynia asked, matter of factly

"She's 26, and I've never met her." Paul sighed, burying his face in his hands. Slowly his breath heaved in and out, and Paul fought the tears that seeped through his fingers.

"Aww Paul, I'm so sorry."

He lifted his head long enough to wipe away a few tears. He coughed and shook his head, "No, she has no idea. Linda says mom and dad postcards and such sometimes. Keep them informed, I guess. All I know about her is she's got dark hair like you, she's still single, and she plays the violin. She's very musical, according to her mom."

Trynia kept her silence, not knowing what to say. What could she, when he was pouring out this terrible secret? All she could do was listen to his choked anger and breaking voice that cried, "She's my daughter and that's all I know. I could pass her on the friggin' street and I wouldn't have a clue."

"Paul, I wish I knew what to say to help take away your pain, but I don't..." Trynia shook her head, her own voice breaking.

"And my worst nightmare, next to losing you or Shane, is that she finds out, comes storming in and wants to know why I failed her."

"Oh Paul..." she sighed, and took him in her arms when he lay his head on her shoulder. She wrapped him close and held him tight, giving him what strength she could muster. "How could you fail her?"

"It's OK, sweetheart. This is something I've been wrestling with for years, because I second-guess myself, you know. I feel like I bought my freedom. She deserved a dad, and I exercised a buy out clause instead."

"Paul, you can't change the past..." Trynia reminded him. "Even if you want to erase it or change it..."

"No, I know that."

"But the pain never goes away does it?" she asked, fingering his hair softly.

"That's an understatement. I just wish I could feel like I did the right thing."

"Would it have been any better to have her on the road with you?" she asked. "during the Groupies and the rock and roll? Or keeping her in LA where you're hardly there?"

"No, it wouldn't," Paul sighed, his chest heaving against hers. "And this is awful to say, but Linda and I were far from in love."

"Then it is best then... perhaps?" Trynia tried, unsure of what to say next. "She grew up loved by her family, right?"

"And, I guess, according to mom, she's married now, so my daughter has a dad. Someone ELSE to walk her down the aisle some day, I suppose." Paul said bitterly. "Better that then a horrible marriage."

"Are you angry at that, or yourself?" she asked again. "Because of what you could have had?"

"Both. I mean, Linda deserves to be happy."

"Yes she does. But so do you." Trynia said vehemently, squeezing his arms tightly.

"And Claudia.....that's her name....." Paul blurted out. He was silent for a moment. "I hardly ever say her name"

"It's like giving a child up for adoption, isn't it?"

"Maybe that's why I try so damn hard with Shane." Paul wondered. "It's so hard. It's different now than it was. It never even crossed my mind for Linda and I to get married. Frankly, when I found out, I was pissed. How DARE she do this?"

"How dare she what, Paul?" Trynia asked, her own voice rising in volume to match his. "Have your child?"

"How dare she get pregnant? I had a damn tour to run." Paul snapped, slamming his fist into the door.

"Or tell you about it?" Trynia asked. "She could have kept it secret from you, you know."

"I was a different person back then," Paul said, turning his face to hers.

"Yes, you were," Trynia said, stroking his cheek tenderly. "And I'm VERY glad to know who you are now, Stanley Harvey Eisen..."

"I know that. If it happened now.....if it was YOU, I'd....I'd marry you, Tryn."

"I know that," she says, kissing his hand. "Isn't that worth the pain?"

Paul laughed a bit, as she wiped away at his tears with a tissue from her purse. He said, "She's almost your age, you know. If she's sleeping with some 50 year old rock star, I'm going to have to kick her ever-loving ass."

"I wish I could someday give you children... so you could have another chance..." Trynia told him. He looks at her for a prolonged period after that last comment.

"I know I can trust you, Trynia. The only people who know about this are my parents and Gene. And Aucoin of course."

"Oh man, that was cheesy..." she groans.

"I would really like to have another daughter some day." Paul said slowly, fingering her cheek with his hand.

"I know," she nodded. "I think I'd be honored if you walked her up the aisle. If my parents didn't convince her to join a CONVENT!"

"One way or another, before I die, I want to make this right. I just don't know how yet." Paul said, straightening up. He suddenly tries to act chipper.

"You will... Believe me you will," she kisses his hand.

"Well, now you know, so feel free to ignore my mom's prattle for the rest of the evening."

"I will, and Thanks for telling me the truth,"

"Any time. I can't hardly expect you to be honest with me, if I can't do the same. It's just not my most proud moment, by a long shot."

"Well I've done stupid shit... so you're not alone..." Trynia laughed. "Sleeping with 2 horny rock stars at once?"

"And maybe if we do, I can convince Linda that I'm settled and ready to meet her." Paul nodded.

Paul finally grinned, "Tryn, let me ask you a question?"

"Yes?" she asked.

"Who's better in bed: me or Gene?"

"Oh MAN! You HAD TO Ask!" she groaned, shaking her head as she pressed her hand to it.

He laughed loudly, "Awwwww, c'mon, Hon, humor me."

"Aww man, I only had one time with Gene..."

"My ego needs stroking right now."

"uh-huh..." Trynia relented. "Well, if you like hard fast screwing Gene is fine... but I'm NOT into that..."

"Go on...."

"Actually, I enjoyed you far more.... that first night..." Trynia admitted. "Because... you were so gentle, even though you were a 'horny rock star' at that point and I was a 'groupie'

and you stopped to cuddle me at he end..."

"Funny you should mention that. I enjoyed YOU more than Gene too that night." Paul laughed. "JUST kidding"

"Awww..." she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. "Isn't it weird Gene insisted You sleep with me first? And you wanted to bugger off!"

"Well, let's just say, Gene knows he's short comings." Paul said diplomatically, kissing her cheek. "Even though he will NEVER admit them."

"Uh... sizewise?"

Paul burst into laughter, hugging his stomach. "Woohoooo. Wait 'til I tell him THAT little remark."

"well, it's TRUE," she flushed as she groaned. "And I don't care what they say, you have a very talented tongue yourself mister!"

"I'm kidding, hon. I'm not saying anything."

"Good because I'd have to KILL you then."

"Mmmm. Now THAT'S a comment I'm glad mom and dad weren't around to hear."

"Besides, someone needs to enjoy those other seven inches... and I don't mean your leather heels." Trynia cooed, and winked saucily at him. Very slowly and deliberately, she ran her hand up and down his pants.

"Hey, now, doll, you going to make me walk into this trendy New York restaurant with suddenly tight, tight pants?"

"Well, perhaps if you do, Ill have to take care of that little detail..."

"I LIKE when you talk like that, sweets." He grinned.

"I know it..." she laughs back.

"Uh, Sir, we're here," the cab driver interrupted. Paul glanced up, a guilty look on his face when he saw the cab with his parents pulling up first to the restaurant's front door.

They waited for a table, and Paul whispered something to the matre'D. He nodded, and escorted their party toward the back, in a table less accessible to the general comings and goings of normal patrons. Thankfully, there weren't many people still there in the place, and Trynia was glad to sit down beside Paul. Their table was a square, each sitting equidistant from the other, with Paul to her left and Mr. Eisen to her right, and Mrs. Eisen right in front of her.

"Nice that this place was still open this late," Mrs. Eisen said to her husband.

"Well, it's a place I've been to a number of times," Paul said. "They don't close till very late. So we can just relax..."

"What are you having dear?" Mrs. Eisen asked her husband, who had barely enough time to look at the menu. She struggled with her coat, and Paul jumped up to help her. Trynia wrung her hands in her lap, too anxious to even pick up her menu.

"Aren't you getting anything, dear?" Mr. Eisen asked Trynia.

"I... well.. I'm not that hungry," she said.

"Nonsense dear, you can at least have some soup," he responded.

"Food is never a bad thing to turn down..." Mrs. Eisen commented. "Thank you Stanley dear. Now..."

"Tryn, your coat, sweetheart?" Paul asked. She got up from her chair and pulled out of her coat, and handed it to Paul, then turned to Mr. Eisen who was just slipping out of his.

"Tryn, why don't we go put their coats away while they decide?" Paul asked her with a slow wink.

"You do that while your father decides," Mrs. Eisen muttered, and nudged her husband.

Taking the coats over his arm, Paul tossed his head in the direction of the coatroom in back. Trynia followed, and Paul's arm slipped around her waist tightly as he guided her to the front. He passed the bundle to the waiter, who immediately took them away to hang them up.

"C'mon," Paul whispered, taking her hand and leading her off in the direction opposite where the table was. He still had his own long leather coat over his arm as he walked with her.

"Where are we going... you forgot to put away your coat..."

"You'll see," Paul grinned mischievously, walking her toward where the restrooms were. They passed into the back hallway, where a few empty banquet rooms were. He led her into the darkness of the roped off area, where the lights were turned off. Glancing around he noticed several doors in the rear. He opened one that said, "Smoking lounge" and lead her inside the darkened room. There were several couches and he threw his coat down on one, and closed the door behind them, locking it.

"Paul what are you..."

"Cmere... I don't think anyone's going to smoke any cigars anytime soon," he winked, drawing her close. He turned the lights off, and reached around to unzip her dress. He stroked his hands up and down her back to her ass, squeezing it tightly as he pulled her hips toward his.

"Uh... Paul..."

"What?" he asked, kissing her neck then working his way into her dress top.

"Paul... your mom and dad..." she gasped before he plunged his tongue into her mouth and stifled off her reply. He pulled her hands onto his belt, urging her to unbuckle it and free him from the confines of his pants. Then he placed her hands on the buttons of his shirt, and she started to unbutton it without question.

"What about them?" he asked, breathing heavily as he tore off his shirt and threw it down over the couch. He ran his hands up and down her legs, lifting her skirt and fingering her stockings.

"This... is interesting..."

"I forgot my pantyhose," she laughed. "And the only thing I could find at Sharmane's was the stuff from my play outfit!"

"I love them," Paul winked, working the bare tops of her thighs, left exposed by the stockings. "And I LOVE you...."

"I do to..." she gasped, arching her back as he breathed in her ear and drew his tongue down her earlobe to nibble it. Still his hands kneaded her legs, tugging her dress up and off over her head to reveal her slip and bra. On the way down, he rubbed his hands over her breasts, kneading them through the black silk. He shook his hips, kicking off his shoes and tugging his pants down. He sat down on the couch, and tugged her to join him.

She groaned as he lay her down across his spread coat, the cool lining chilling her bared back and thighs. He slid up her slip, not even, taking her shoes or stockings off as he unfastened the elastic tabs and slid his hands up under her lacey underwear. It was not a thong, but was sheer and higher cut, and slowly pulled them off. Grabbing her ankles he threw them over his shoulders and licked her thighs just above her stockings.

"OHH god that tickles... Paul..."

"Mmm. I can't let you get away with all that rap in the taxi without following through on it, can I?" he hummed against her skin.

 He whispered to her, "While your sitting there talking opera with my dad, don't forget who's passion is going to be running down your legs."

"Paul this isn't FAIR!" she whispered back, as he put her legs down and returned attention to her bra. Reaching around her he unfastened it and released her breasts. He began to nibble both, kissing each nipple softly.

"Ask my mom, I'm a good boy." He laughed, and traced his tongue up to lick her neck.

"I can't believe you can do me in here with your parents out there," she groans.

"Love, tattoo this on your forehead. I can do you ANYWHERE, ANYTIME."

"I already have your face tattooed on my boob, so what is one other?" she joked, kissing his chest softly..

"Perhaps I shall give you another tattoo here right now, only one not of the permanent persuasion." He headed down between her legs again. Teeth closed on her sensitive skin and she let out a shriek as he bit down and suckled for a time.

"You... oh grrrr...." she gritted her teeth.

"MmmmHmmmmm. Marking my territory, love." He laughed, and looked up from where he was positioned. Slowly he knelt and pulled her legs along side his hips.

"Just in case some tight young busboy catches your eye," he teased.

"Oh RIGHT," she groaned.

"Tryn," he teased, 'It's not nice to bite people's coats."

"Paul... you are just... too much..."

"Is this too much?" Paul laughed and entered her in a firm thrust. She shrieked as he pumped into her vigorously. It became increasingly hard to stop groaning and gasping, and she sensed Paul was deliberately making it difficult for her to keep quiet.

"No... but oh god... what if..."

"What if what?" he laughed.

"I can't... keep... OH god!" she shrieked. Paul kissed her soundly, holding her on his lap as he thrust upward, fingering her nipples with his thumbs in the same tempo as his movement. Her gasps bordered on screams, and Paul finally seized the side of her face as he thrust his tongue between her lips. Any further noise was effectively muffled by the tongue worked into her throat deliciously deeply.

Her third climax she felt him tense and push as far in as he could go, groaning deeply in their merged mouths. Lips tightened on hers, stifling her scream and absorbing it as their bodies quaked together. Legs wrapped tight around his waist, holding him in while he erupted inside her energetically. Finally, he released her mouth, both gasping for breath dizzily.

"Whoa," Paul gasped, and cuddled her for a moment. "Awesome..."

"I... wow..." she stammered.

"OK, Tryn, let's go," he laughed, patting her thigh as he eased her legs apart. He pulled out and began to hunt for his pants.

"What do you mean..."

"Mom and Dad are probably wondering if we lost our way," he grinned, turning on the light. "and besides, someone's gonna want a cigar and a brandy I'm sure soon..."

"But... where are my..."

"Here's your dress love," he said, handing it to her as he pulled up his pants and fastened them again. He grabbed his shirt and slipped it on, hastily buttoning it as she tried to pull herself together.

"C'mon... stand up, I'll help you zip up," he clapped his hands and tugged her up before she could find her panties.

"I have to clean up, Paul!" she protested when he whirled her around and zipped her up.

Paul laughed and teased, "Oh, no. Don't forget what I said."

"You're NOT serious?"

"Oh, but I am," he grinned, taking her hand. He held her panties out for her to step into.

"I'M STICKY!!!" she protested.

"Just think of it this way. If Mom gives you a hard time, you'll have something nice and warm to remind you of little old me." He winked.

"Well, I'm not saying its MAYO!!!" she groaned, as he helped her into her panties again. He actually helped fasten her stockings and handed her purse to her, grabbing his coat and opening the door for her. They both walked out, Trynia feeling the stickiness inside that she swore would drive her crazy.

"And it's not hair gel either!" she hissed, as he threw his coat to a waiter and urged her along. He grinned and laughed hard, leaning her back to their table.

"There you two are... did you get lost?" Mr. Eisen asked.

"Well we had to find the coatroom, and I forgot to leave my coat," Paul laughed, pulling out a chair for Trynia. She sat down and hid her healthy flush. Coffee sat at her elbow, a bowl of soup in front of her. She groaned when she noticed it was oyster soup!

"Uh I didn't order this," she said sheepishly.

"Oh sorry, that's mine," Mr. Eisen said, and took it from her. She sighed with relief, and Paul nudged her knee under the table. Trynia bit her hand to stop herself from laughing. It was funny, she had to admit.

Paul hummed and pursed his lips, "Hmmm. Tryn loves clam chowder."

"Shut up, Paul," she scolded him.

"Or fish... with Plenty of tartar sauce," he leaned close to purr into her ear.

"Paul knock it off," she whispered back. He squeezed her thigh, sending a jolt of awkwardness up her spine. She began to laugh hysterically, hiding her face in her hands.

"Are you all right?" Mr. Eisen asked.

"I fail to see what's so amusing about tartar sauce," Mrs. Eisen shook her head.

"It's just a private joke," she stammered. "Please excuse me. I must use the ladies room."

Paul's eyes twinkled, and he rested his chin on his hands with a slow smile.
"Sweetie, don't go." he winks. Trynia threw him a look that clearly said she was going to kill him for such a prank as she hastened her way to the lady's room.

Paul said within earshot, "She'll be back. I think she left something in the coat check room."

"Most curious young lady," Mrs. Eisen shook her head.

"She seems very nice, son." Mr. Eisen commented.

"I'm glad you think so, dad. I think my luck is finally changing."

They ate for a time in silence, enjoying soup and other entrees. Paul fingered his glass of chable, and looked from his mother to his father. He knew he was hard on Trynia, but to hear her laughter again made it all worthwhile.

"You certainly both share the same sense of humor, son," Mr. Eisen commented.

"She's a little shy, but I'm breaking her of that," Paul nodded. "She can be really funny when she lets her hair down..."

"Hmm yes, I noticed," Mrs. Eisen relented. "She's NOTHING like Linda."

Mr. Eisen threw her a critical look, soupspoon poised before his mouth to say something. Paul shook his head, and Mrs. Eisen looked back with confusion as she said, "I'm serious. As you KNOW, that's a good thing."

"Well, I'm glad you think so," Paul said. He sipped a bit of wine, and rolled the glass between both his hands. Over his mother's shoulder he could see Trynia returning from the Ladies room, walking a great deal more naturally.

"I've told you and told you, Paul. You need to find yourself a nice normal lady who will make a home with you and have more babies. I think this could be it," Mrs. Eisen continued, totally unaware of Trynia's proximity. Mr. Eisen caught Paul's eye and saw hi son's intimation of silence.

"I......WE appreciate that, mom. It means a lot." Paul said with a slow smile. Trynia waited a moment, and then walked the rest of the way back to sit down next to Mrs. Eisen.

"Back again, good," Mr. Eisen nodded. Trynia glowed with the rare compliment. It must have taken Paul's mother a lot to admit what she had just said. Leaning over, she kissed Paul on the cheek and turned to his parents again.

"Mr. and Mrs. Eisen, you have a wonderful son," Trynia said.

"Trynia, we are very pleased to finally get to meet you. Paul AND Shane have told us a great deal about you. It's been a delight." Mr. Eisen smiled, taking her hand across the table and patting it.

"Yes, especially since Stanley usually has horrible taste in women." Mrs. Eisen chimed in. Paul rolled his eyes and sighed at her acid comment, and Mr. Eisen groaned.

"Dear... please behave," Mr. Eisen nudged her. "Well we all make mistakes, right, Hon?"

"Well, it's just that Stanley....." Mrs. Eisen tried to explain before Paul cut her off again.

"Mom, bless your heart, but you talk too much." Paul laughed.