LoveandLogic
Refugee
Thank you everyone for all the nice comments! 
Here is the next chapter just for you!
Disclaimer: I own the beer in my hand. That is all.
Chapter Eleven
I really wish I wasn’t so stubborn all the damned time. For four days I have spent the hours either alone or cleaning my apartment. Brooke was even too busy to share coffee with me in the mornings and I had to break down and buy a coffee machine. Who wants to have coffee with themselves? Larry, Edge and Adam all went back to Dublin to see their families. Bono won’t talk to me and I won’t talk to him.
Now not only was I depressed, I was pissed. Why can’t I choose? One minute I hate him, the next I like him, then I hate him again. When he’s not around I feel mental, when he is around I still feel insane but at a safer degree.
My poor mother keeps calling, leaving frantic voice messages. Let’s add her to the list of guilt. Ugh what’s wrong with me? All this time I’ve been insulting Bono, calling him selfish and arrogant. Reality is, I’ve been trying to bring him down to my level. He’s not the selfish one. He was comfortable freedom and independence, who was I to take that away? I’m not no body important or special. I was a simple, small town girl who just happened to land a lucky college in one of the biggest cities in the world.
“Jessie, sweetie, I’m sorry but we just can’t afford a college like that one.” Lynn explained, her heart beating loudly. If she had the money, she would send her only child to the best college the world had to offer. She felt horrible, seeing the look on Jessie’s face.
Bono sat on the far end of the couch, pretending not to hear the conversation. Jessica had mentioned to everyone the night before last her acceptance to Briarcliffe College in New York City. Although her mom had been proud of her daughters accomplishment, Jessica went against the rules and didn’t discuss the college with her parents before applying.
“I can’t go to a community college, mom,” Jessica said. “It won’t get me anywhere. I need to go to a bigger city if I want to be a photographer. I don’t want to hang around Ohio, taking wedding photos and school portraits. I would be bored out of my wits!”
“But those people still make good money.” Lynn stated.
“It’s not about money for me! I want to enjoy what I do. Weddings and school kids and senior portraits won’t be good enough for me. There’s no passion behind them. Art is about passion.”
Lynn kneeled before her daughter and placed her hands on her shoulders. Bono glanced from the corner of his eye.
“Listen,” Lynn whispered. “This is not the time or place to discuss this. We have guests. We don’t have the money for that kind of college. I wish we did but we just don’t. If you go to this college you will be in debt for the rest of you life. You don’t want student loans hanging over your head. And scholarships only provide so much. Let’s make a deal, go to the community college for two years and after that finish your last two years in New York. Is that a deal?”
It’s not what Jessica wanted to do. Even Bono knew that. All she ever talked about was NYC and the college. Jess told him about her acceptance before she even told her parents. Alas, she settled with her mom and they hugged.
“I love you,” Lynn kissed her daughter.
She smiled. “I love you, too, Mom.”
Lynn left the room and Bono sat next to Jessica on the love seat across the room. He put his arm around her and kissed her neck softly. Laying her head on his broad shoulder, she felt dizzy from his scent.
“This isn’t what you want to do,” It was more of a statement than a question.
She sighed. “No. But it’s ok. They work so hard so for me. Just as long as I get to take pictures I guess I will be ok. Even if I’m stuck doing,” She shuddered, “weddings for the rest of my life.”
Bono looked down at the girl, her brown eyes slightly red. Their lips were close, barely centimeters away. He moved in and pulled away, unable to read her body language.
“You can kiss me,” Whispered Jessie, running her fingertips along Bono’s stubbly face, guiding his lips to hers.
Groaning loudly, the sound echoed through the empty apartment. I’m so bored! Why did I have to chase Bono off? Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Ooo, phone call!
“Yes, Brooke?” I didn’t mean to sound so disappointed, but I was.
She sounded hostile. “You need to get down here right now. I’m not joking. The editor of Rollingstone is here and wants to have a meeting with you. Lucy told me to call you. Uh, she said to dress professionally and tell the guy that you have been on vacation.”
“What? But I haven’t! That bitch fir-”
“I know, I know. Trust me, Jess. This guy seriously wants to meet with you. You need to get here ASAP.”
“Alright. I’ll be there.”
Practically jumping a foot high off the ground, I darted to my room to change. Frozen at my feet, the shock set through. The editor of Rollingstone wanted to talk to ME? ME! Ha! Ha! Giggling uncontrollably, I dressed into a white, button up collared shirt and black dress pants with black heels, all the while laughing! I felt like a school girl going on her first date only this was much, MUCH bigger! And more exciting and more nerve-wracking. Damn it! Nerves! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…
Walking as fast as my legs could carry me, my heart drummed along with the fast rhythm of NYC. I was sweating profusely, even though it wasn’t too hot out. My hands shook, my knees quivered. I’d never felt so many emotions all at once: excitement, glee, nervousness, intimidation, curiosity.
I pushed through the door of the building and waited early for the elevator to open, jumping up and down on my. BLOODY ELEVATOR! LET’S GOOOOO!
DAMN! About time! Stupid things. Whoever invented elevators needs to rot…
Running to Lucy’s office, I halted, smoothed out my shirt, fluffed my hair and took a deep breath. Knocking, Lucy opened the door and smiled a huge, artificial smile. She kissed both my cheeks.
“Jessica, dear, how nice to see you. How was your trip.”
Rolling my eyes, I played along. “Just fine thank you.”
“Good to hear. Let me introduce you to Edward Johnson, the editor of Rollingstone magazine.”
Shaking hands with a tall, sharp, pepper haired man, his green eyes smiled at me. “What a pleasure to meet you! A true, true honor.”
Honor? To meet me? Pinch me, please! Ouch…
“The honor is all mine.”
“Please, sit.”
We sat across from one another on two, large black leather seats. Seats taken from my office…Lucy sat behind her desk, folding her fingers beneath her chin. Edward handed me a folder and I opened it, gasping. When I was told that my photo would be featured on the cover of Rollingstone magazine, no one ever told me that it was to be the COVER! Behold, a shot of Bono being held up by his three band members, vibrant and clear, on the cover of ROLLING-STONE-MAGAZINE!
“Wow,” Was all I could spit out.
Edward laughed, his pearly white teeth shining. “At first we were going to use a small snippet but we have been wanting to interview the band for quite some time again. So we figured a cover issue would be appropriate. There will also be an article about you in there so if you don’t mind I would like to interview you and steal some photos you have done to add to the article.”
I was speechless. “Of course.”
“Wonderful! But before we being the interview, I have more news for you. We would like to display your work in an exhibit here in New York. You know, to help throw your name out into the world.”
“An…exhibit?”
“Yes. We will display about fifty of your photos, all of your choice, of course. We will rent out a small building here at Times Square. You can decorate the room any way you wish. It’s a lot of work but there will be people there to help you with whatever you need. The only thing is, the exhibit will take place next Saturday so we have to hurry. I know that’s a short time but-”
“No,” I interrupted. “That’s fine. Really. You have no idea how much this means to me. But I’m curious. Why me? U2 has been photographed for ages by many wonderful photographers.”
“You have provided us with something fresh. You captured the band as they are as men and friends, not just a band. People like that. Fans like to see the hidden side of their idols. And you did just that. I have showed the pictures to other music artists and I have a very long list of artists who want to photographed by you: Gene Simmons, Slash, Mick Jagger, Areosmith, Bon Jovi. The list goes on!”
Fanning myself with the folder, I felt faint. Edward handed me a bottle water and I took a huge swig, the cool liquid sliding down my throat and into my stomach. My life is such a rollercoaster.
“I know, it’s overwhelming.” Edward smiled. “You’re a rising star.”
I didn’t want to be a rising star. I wanted to be respected. Oh well! Too late now!
“Do I have to pay for the exhibit?”
Edward bellowed, making my ears ring. Then stopped when I turned serious. He shook his head. “No, of course not. We pay you. Half a million.”
“Come again?”
“Half a million.”
Lucy made a sour face, crisscrossing her arms and looking out the window. Ha! Revenge…
“That’s quite a bit for photos.”
He grinned. “You’re a modest young lady. They’re just not photos. They’re photos of a band who is larger than life.”
“I can’t take all the credit.”
Lucy rotated in her chair, her eyes wide and hopeful.
“I had some help,” I continued. “My partner Brooke should gain credibility as well. Lucy here has not been honest with you. I wasn’t on vacation, Mr. Johnson, I was fired.”
Lucy giggled nervously. “Nonsense, Mr. Johnson. I let her take a break. She had been working so very hard an-”
Mr. Johnson raised a hand to quiet my former boss. “Lucy, if this is true than I cannot continue this conversation in your presence.”
“It’s not!” Lucy proclaimed, slamming a fist on the table.
“To hell it’s not,” Calmly, I added. “I’ve been unemployed for two weeks. Just take a look at the files. But Brooke and I did take the photos of the band. You can ask the band, ask Brooke. I have all of the originals, the film, the files. I even have all of the un-edited versions of the photographs.”
“They are copyrighted under my companies name,” Lucy cocked an eyebrow.
Mr. Johnson spoke. “It doesn’t matter what they’re copyrighted under. If Ms. Stewart took the photos, edited the photos, then they belong to her. It’s very simple to turn over the copyright. And if I were you, Mrs. Baker, I would hope that Ms. Stewart doesn’t file a lawsuit against you. You pulled a large crime taking credit for someone else’s work. Ms. Stewart, I will be calling you in the next two days for the interview and more information about the exhibit. Good day, ladies.”
We shook hands and after Mr. Johnson left, Lucy stood up, appearing two feet taller than her usual short stature. Her eyes could have burned a hole right through me.
“You sneaky, bitch! How could you do that! After all I have done for you!”
“You?” I pointed. “You? Ha! What did you do for me? You took my pride! That’s what you did! Those photos are not yours! You didn’t lift a finger in that studio! Brooke and I did all the dirty work so you could sit back and roll in the dough. Don’t fuck with me, Lucy! If you wouldn’t have fired me I wouldn’t have done what I just did.”
“You will never get away with this! Those photos are just as much mine as they are yours!”
“How? Because they were taken in your building by one of your employees? You’re a business woman, you should know better than that. What do you have against me? I was a great employee. I slaved night and day for you! I didn’t have a life because of you! All I ever wanted was to help your company take off, to gain the credibility it deserved. It’s not my fault that you lost your eye for creativity!”
“Get out of my office! Out! You will pay for this! OUT!”
“You don’t have to tell me twice!”
Grinning like mad, the fresh breeze of New York blew my hair and I skipped down the sidewalks. Today was the best day of my life! As if in a daze, I found myself standing before Bono’s hotel room door. Without hesitation, I pounded on the door and he pulled it back with a look of surprise.
“Jess, what are you-”
Not giving him time to answer, my arms flung around his neck. He hugged back before holding me at arms length.
“Thank you,” I said.
Seeming confused, he shook his head. “For what?”
“The editor of Rollingstone met with me today. My photograph is going to be on the cover of next months issue and he wants to hold an exhibit for me next Saturday.”
“That’s amazing!”
“Bono, admit it, you had something to do with this.”
Hesitating, he shifted his feet, drawing circles on the floor with the toe of shoe. “Just a tiny, tiny, bit. The cover is all them. The only thing I did was call Mick Jagger. And Sting. And a couple of other artists. I really had no idea about the exhibit.”
“So…it’s not because of you? It’s really for my own talent?”
“Damn, girl, do you have any confidence in yourself at all?”
“I guess not,” My voice turned nervous. “Actually, I’m kind of scared of this whole thing. I’ve never held an exhibit before.”
“There will people there to help. Believe me. All you really have to do is tell them where you want each photo and they will do the rest.” Bono comforted me, rubbing my shoulder. “Congratulations. You deserve every bit of recognition that you receive. I just hope they don’t pester you about all the tabloids and such. It’s still the talk of the world.”
“I know it. If they ask, I will deny anything.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes. I do. Don’t be stupid. You have your career and your engagement on the line.”
“What if I said that I didn’t care?” He asked.
“I would say that you’re a fool.”
Cocking his head to his left and smirking, Bono said. “Don’t you already think that anyways?”
“Funny. Come on,” I said, pulling his hand. “Let’s go celebrate!”
He pulled me now, backing more into the room. “Wait, wait, wait. Hold on just a second.”
I looked at him, unable to read his body language. “What’s wrong?”
“You!”
“Me?”
“Yes,” He huffed. “You’re unbelievable. One moment you want to be around me, the next you want nothing to do with me, then a few days later your back. I can’t keep doing this.”
Dropping his hands from mine, I couldn’t believe my ears. “I…”
“Stop. Please. You either forgive me or you don’t. You either love me or you don’t. I can’t keep playing this game with you. It’s getting old. I know I hurt you, I’m not as arrogant as you think. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you. I’m sorry for never writing or calling. I’m sorry for everything. And I deserve your harshness. But don’t you think you’ve had enough dosage of revenge? I’m not perfect, Jessica. And when you realize that and realize what YOU really want from me, then maybe we can work something out. But I’m not going to play this any longer. You’re hurting me just as much as I hurt you. So tell me, right now, yes or no. Do you love me?”
Put on the spot, I became speechless. Bono waited, searching me, awaiting. After a few seconds, he blinked his gorgeous eyes a few times and licked his lips.
“I see,” He mumbled. “Whenever you decide, let me know.”
And with that said, he shut the door.
Ooooo, so the tables turn!
Here is the next chapter just for you!Disclaimer: I own the beer in my hand. That is all.
Chapter Eleven
I really wish I wasn’t so stubborn all the damned time. For four days I have spent the hours either alone or cleaning my apartment. Brooke was even too busy to share coffee with me in the mornings and I had to break down and buy a coffee machine. Who wants to have coffee with themselves? Larry, Edge and Adam all went back to Dublin to see their families. Bono won’t talk to me and I won’t talk to him.
Now not only was I depressed, I was pissed. Why can’t I choose? One minute I hate him, the next I like him, then I hate him again. When he’s not around I feel mental, when he is around I still feel insane but at a safer degree.
My poor mother keeps calling, leaving frantic voice messages. Let’s add her to the list of guilt. Ugh what’s wrong with me? All this time I’ve been insulting Bono, calling him selfish and arrogant. Reality is, I’ve been trying to bring him down to my level. He’s not the selfish one. He was comfortable freedom and independence, who was I to take that away? I’m not no body important or special. I was a simple, small town girl who just happened to land a lucky college in one of the biggest cities in the world.
“Jessie, sweetie, I’m sorry but we just can’t afford a college like that one.” Lynn explained, her heart beating loudly. If she had the money, she would send her only child to the best college the world had to offer. She felt horrible, seeing the look on Jessie’s face.
Bono sat on the far end of the couch, pretending not to hear the conversation. Jessica had mentioned to everyone the night before last her acceptance to Briarcliffe College in New York City. Although her mom had been proud of her daughters accomplishment, Jessica went against the rules and didn’t discuss the college with her parents before applying.
“I can’t go to a community college, mom,” Jessica said. “It won’t get me anywhere. I need to go to a bigger city if I want to be a photographer. I don’t want to hang around Ohio, taking wedding photos and school portraits. I would be bored out of my wits!”
“But those people still make good money.” Lynn stated.
“It’s not about money for me! I want to enjoy what I do. Weddings and school kids and senior portraits won’t be good enough for me. There’s no passion behind them. Art is about passion.”
Lynn kneeled before her daughter and placed her hands on her shoulders. Bono glanced from the corner of his eye.
“Listen,” Lynn whispered. “This is not the time or place to discuss this. We have guests. We don’t have the money for that kind of college. I wish we did but we just don’t. If you go to this college you will be in debt for the rest of you life. You don’t want student loans hanging over your head. And scholarships only provide so much. Let’s make a deal, go to the community college for two years and after that finish your last two years in New York. Is that a deal?”
It’s not what Jessica wanted to do. Even Bono knew that. All she ever talked about was NYC and the college. Jess told him about her acceptance before she even told her parents. Alas, she settled with her mom and they hugged.
“I love you,” Lynn kissed her daughter.
She smiled. “I love you, too, Mom.”
Lynn left the room and Bono sat next to Jessica on the love seat across the room. He put his arm around her and kissed her neck softly. Laying her head on his broad shoulder, she felt dizzy from his scent.
“This isn’t what you want to do,” It was more of a statement than a question.
She sighed. “No. But it’s ok. They work so hard so for me. Just as long as I get to take pictures I guess I will be ok. Even if I’m stuck doing,” She shuddered, “weddings for the rest of my life.”
Bono looked down at the girl, her brown eyes slightly red. Their lips were close, barely centimeters away. He moved in and pulled away, unable to read her body language.
“You can kiss me,” Whispered Jessie, running her fingertips along Bono’s stubbly face, guiding his lips to hers.
Groaning loudly, the sound echoed through the empty apartment. I’m so bored! Why did I have to chase Bono off? Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Ooo, phone call!
“Yes, Brooke?” I didn’t mean to sound so disappointed, but I was.
She sounded hostile. “You need to get down here right now. I’m not joking. The editor of Rollingstone is here and wants to have a meeting with you. Lucy told me to call you. Uh, she said to dress professionally and tell the guy that you have been on vacation.”
“What? But I haven’t! That bitch fir-”
“I know, I know. Trust me, Jess. This guy seriously wants to meet with you. You need to get here ASAP.”
“Alright. I’ll be there.”
Practically jumping a foot high off the ground, I darted to my room to change. Frozen at my feet, the shock set through. The editor of Rollingstone wanted to talk to ME? ME! Ha! Ha! Giggling uncontrollably, I dressed into a white, button up collared shirt and black dress pants with black heels, all the while laughing! I felt like a school girl going on her first date only this was much, MUCH bigger! And more exciting and more nerve-wracking. Damn it! Nerves! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…
Walking as fast as my legs could carry me, my heart drummed along with the fast rhythm of NYC. I was sweating profusely, even though it wasn’t too hot out. My hands shook, my knees quivered. I’d never felt so many emotions all at once: excitement, glee, nervousness, intimidation, curiosity.
I pushed through the door of the building and waited early for the elevator to open, jumping up and down on my. BLOODY ELEVATOR! LET’S GOOOOO!
DAMN! About time! Stupid things. Whoever invented elevators needs to rot…
Running to Lucy’s office, I halted, smoothed out my shirt, fluffed my hair and took a deep breath. Knocking, Lucy opened the door and smiled a huge, artificial smile. She kissed both my cheeks.
“Jessica, dear, how nice to see you. How was your trip.”
Rolling my eyes, I played along. “Just fine thank you.”
“Good to hear. Let me introduce you to Edward Johnson, the editor of Rollingstone magazine.”
Shaking hands with a tall, sharp, pepper haired man, his green eyes smiled at me. “What a pleasure to meet you! A true, true honor.”
Honor? To meet me? Pinch me, please! Ouch…
“The honor is all mine.”
“Please, sit.”
We sat across from one another on two, large black leather seats. Seats taken from my office…Lucy sat behind her desk, folding her fingers beneath her chin. Edward handed me a folder and I opened it, gasping. When I was told that my photo would be featured on the cover of Rollingstone magazine, no one ever told me that it was to be the COVER! Behold, a shot of Bono being held up by his three band members, vibrant and clear, on the cover of ROLLING-STONE-MAGAZINE!
“Wow,” Was all I could spit out.
Edward laughed, his pearly white teeth shining. “At first we were going to use a small snippet but we have been wanting to interview the band for quite some time again. So we figured a cover issue would be appropriate. There will also be an article about you in there so if you don’t mind I would like to interview you and steal some photos you have done to add to the article.”
I was speechless. “Of course.”
“Wonderful! But before we being the interview, I have more news for you. We would like to display your work in an exhibit here in New York. You know, to help throw your name out into the world.”
“An…exhibit?”
“Yes. We will display about fifty of your photos, all of your choice, of course. We will rent out a small building here at Times Square. You can decorate the room any way you wish. It’s a lot of work but there will be people there to help you with whatever you need. The only thing is, the exhibit will take place next Saturday so we have to hurry. I know that’s a short time but-”
“No,” I interrupted. “That’s fine. Really. You have no idea how much this means to me. But I’m curious. Why me? U2 has been photographed for ages by many wonderful photographers.”
“You have provided us with something fresh. You captured the band as they are as men and friends, not just a band. People like that. Fans like to see the hidden side of their idols. And you did just that. I have showed the pictures to other music artists and I have a very long list of artists who want to photographed by you: Gene Simmons, Slash, Mick Jagger, Areosmith, Bon Jovi. The list goes on!”
Fanning myself with the folder, I felt faint. Edward handed me a bottle water and I took a huge swig, the cool liquid sliding down my throat and into my stomach. My life is such a rollercoaster.
“I know, it’s overwhelming.” Edward smiled. “You’re a rising star.”
I didn’t want to be a rising star. I wanted to be respected. Oh well! Too late now!
“Do I have to pay for the exhibit?”
Edward bellowed, making my ears ring. Then stopped when I turned serious. He shook his head. “No, of course not. We pay you. Half a million.”
“Come again?”
“Half a million.”
Lucy made a sour face, crisscrossing her arms and looking out the window. Ha! Revenge…
“That’s quite a bit for photos.”
He grinned. “You’re a modest young lady. They’re just not photos. They’re photos of a band who is larger than life.”
“I can’t take all the credit.”
Lucy rotated in her chair, her eyes wide and hopeful.
“I had some help,” I continued. “My partner Brooke should gain credibility as well. Lucy here has not been honest with you. I wasn’t on vacation, Mr. Johnson, I was fired.”
Lucy giggled nervously. “Nonsense, Mr. Johnson. I let her take a break. She had been working so very hard an-”
Mr. Johnson raised a hand to quiet my former boss. “Lucy, if this is true than I cannot continue this conversation in your presence.”
“It’s not!” Lucy proclaimed, slamming a fist on the table.
“To hell it’s not,” Calmly, I added. “I’ve been unemployed for two weeks. Just take a look at the files. But Brooke and I did take the photos of the band. You can ask the band, ask Brooke. I have all of the originals, the film, the files. I even have all of the un-edited versions of the photographs.”
“They are copyrighted under my companies name,” Lucy cocked an eyebrow.
Mr. Johnson spoke. “It doesn’t matter what they’re copyrighted under. If Ms. Stewart took the photos, edited the photos, then they belong to her. It’s very simple to turn over the copyright. And if I were you, Mrs. Baker, I would hope that Ms. Stewart doesn’t file a lawsuit against you. You pulled a large crime taking credit for someone else’s work. Ms. Stewart, I will be calling you in the next two days for the interview and more information about the exhibit. Good day, ladies.”
We shook hands and after Mr. Johnson left, Lucy stood up, appearing two feet taller than her usual short stature. Her eyes could have burned a hole right through me.
“You sneaky, bitch! How could you do that! After all I have done for you!”
“You?” I pointed. “You? Ha! What did you do for me? You took my pride! That’s what you did! Those photos are not yours! You didn’t lift a finger in that studio! Brooke and I did all the dirty work so you could sit back and roll in the dough. Don’t fuck with me, Lucy! If you wouldn’t have fired me I wouldn’t have done what I just did.”
“You will never get away with this! Those photos are just as much mine as they are yours!”
“How? Because they were taken in your building by one of your employees? You’re a business woman, you should know better than that. What do you have against me? I was a great employee. I slaved night and day for you! I didn’t have a life because of you! All I ever wanted was to help your company take off, to gain the credibility it deserved. It’s not my fault that you lost your eye for creativity!”
“Get out of my office! Out! You will pay for this! OUT!”
“You don’t have to tell me twice!”
Grinning like mad, the fresh breeze of New York blew my hair and I skipped down the sidewalks. Today was the best day of my life! As if in a daze, I found myself standing before Bono’s hotel room door. Without hesitation, I pounded on the door and he pulled it back with a look of surprise.
“Jess, what are you-”
Not giving him time to answer, my arms flung around his neck. He hugged back before holding me at arms length.
“Thank you,” I said.
Seeming confused, he shook his head. “For what?”
“The editor of Rollingstone met with me today. My photograph is going to be on the cover of next months issue and he wants to hold an exhibit for me next Saturday.”
“That’s amazing!”
“Bono, admit it, you had something to do with this.”
Hesitating, he shifted his feet, drawing circles on the floor with the toe of shoe. “Just a tiny, tiny, bit. The cover is all them. The only thing I did was call Mick Jagger. And Sting. And a couple of other artists. I really had no idea about the exhibit.”
“So…it’s not because of you? It’s really for my own talent?”
“Damn, girl, do you have any confidence in yourself at all?”
“I guess not,” My voice turned nervous. “Actually, I’m kind of scared of this whole thing. I’ve never held an exhibit before.”
“There will people there to help. Believe me. All you really have to do is tell them where you want each photo and they will do the rest.” Bono comforted me, rubbing my shoulder. “Congratulations. You deserve every bit of recognition that you receive. I just hope they don’t pester you about all the tabloids and such. It’s still the talk of the world.”
“I know it. If they ask, I will deny anything.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes. I do. Don’t be stupid. You have your career and your engagement on the line.”
“What if I said that I didn’t care?” He asked.
“I would say that you’re a fool.”
Cocking his head to his left and smirking, Bono said. “Don’t you already think that anyways?”
“Funny. Come on,” I said, pulling his hand. “Let’s go celebrate!”
He pulled me now, backing more into the room. “Wait, wait, wait. Hold on just a second.”
I looked at him, unable to read his body language. “What’s wrong?”
“You!”
“Me?”
“Yes,” He huffed. “You’re unbelievable. One moment you want to be around me, the next you want nothing to do with me, then a few days later your back. I can’t keep doing this.”
Dropping his hands from mine, I couldn’t believe my ears. “I…”
“Stop. Please. You either forgive me or you don’t. You either love me or you don’t. I can’t keep playing this game with you. It’s getting old. I know I hurt you, I’m not as arrogant as you think. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you. I’m sorry for never writing or calling. I’m sorry for everything. And I deserve your harshness. But don’t you think you’ve had enough dosage of revenge? I’m not perfect, Jessica. And when you realize that and realize what YOU really want from me, then maybe we can work something out. But I’m not going to play this any longer. You’re hurting me just as much as I hurt you. So tell me, right now, yes or no. Do you love me?”
Put on the spot, I became speechless. Bono waited, searching me, awaiting. After a few seconds, he blinked his gorgeous eyes a few times and licked his lips.
“I see,” He mumbled. “Whenever you decide, let me know.”
And with that said, he shut the door.
Ooooo, so the tables turn!
^^^ what they said 
but OMG, they keep tearing at each other, no middle ground yet, it's all bittersweet really!! Beautiful! *jump to the next chapter and pretend there's no psych books I should be studying instead*
