LoveandLogic
Refugee
Thank you so much for all of your kind reviews and words of encouragement. 
They mean the world to me and keep me motivated to keep writing! You’re all awesome. So, just for you, here is chapter two!
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own. As much as I would like to own…
Chapter Two
Jessica felt helpless watching the four members pack away their stuff into the large tour bus that had been in her driveway for the past month. Larry kept making funny faces at her to make her laugh and it did help, if only a little. As much as she hated the snow, she wanted more than anything for it to come back, to trap them inside the house for another month…or two…After all, all five of them had become good friends. Larry and Jess had their thing of watching movies together, Adam and her liked to cook, and, aside from Bono, Edge was like a brother she never had. They would stay up until the crack of dawn talking of life, religion and politics.
Edge was the only one who knew about Jess and Bono and their secret. Sure, he disagreed with it at first. In fact, he was downright appalled. Not because of the age difference, but because he was afraid of Bono breaking the poor girls heart. She didn’t know what she was getting into. Edge knew it all too well. He has seen Bono get close to women only to push them away. Bono has been a bachelor his whole life for a reason: he couldn’t open up to a female. It was almost impossible. And Jessica…Jessica was still young, naive and a born romantic.
“Jessica,” Edge said to her when he first found out about the affair. “Listen, you’re a great girl. Mature, beyond your years, but you don’t know how he really is.”
She smiled, really appreciating his concern. “You think I don’t the risks I’m taking, Edge? I see it in his eyes. He’s…not what the world thinks he is. He has a big heart, sure. He’s talented beyond all reason. But there’s something in him that’s…”
“Missing.”
She nodded. “Yes. But I have fallen. And I really do think that he has shown me his true colors. When I’m near him I don’t feel like I’m standing next to Bono. I’m standing next to Paul. We both agreed that the moment we laid eyes on each other that there was something there. Maybe I’m that I’m missing piece.”
Edge sighed deeply and rested his hands on Jessica’s small arms. “I hope so. I can’t say that I approve of this affair but…you are right. He’s acting very different. He’s always been such a kid. Now he’s acting like a man. I’m just so worried for you. You do understand that you’re taking a leap into heartache, right?”
“I…I hope you’re wrong, Ed. I really do. I do feel it sometimes though. Actually my heart is aching with every breath I take because I know that we’re going to have to depart soon. Just please, Edge, just please try to understand.”
He kissed her forehead lightly and took her in his arms. “I do.” He said. “I understand. Just understand me when I say that I can’t help but to feel worried.”
She was wordless. She knew he was right.
Although this day was a day for grieving, Jessica could not deny the beautiful weather. Sure, it was still below freezing but the sun was out and there was a soft, crisp wintry breeze coming in from the east. She inhaled the fresh scent, wrapping her black shawl tight around herself.
Bono tapped her on the shoulder, she turned and saw him walking up the stairs. He wanted her to follow and, as not to make it so obvious, she went into her room first for about ten minutes before meeting him in the guest suite.
Instantly they embraced. While he held her, Jessica tried to make a memory of the very moment. He smells of rich cologne, she thought, and her coconut shampoo. His arms are strong, safe, protective. His breathing is calm but his heart is thundering.
“I love you,” He whispered in her ear. “Please don’t forget me.”
Edges words echoed throughout her mind like a gun in an empty alley.
She looked up into his ice eyes. “I’m afraid that I’m the one who should be asking you that.”
“Argh! That pompous, stupid, sad excuse for a man!”
Ranting about my office, I threw my laptop bag and purse down on the leather couch while pacing about the room. Brooke threw open the door and loudly slammed it. She seemed out of breath, panting and clutching the photos I had dropped on the New York sidewalk.
“What the hell is the matter with you! Are you mental!” She demanded, throwing her arms up above her head.
I turned from her and started to rearrange my desk, an OCD habit I picked up over the years. “No, I’m not mental! I’ve been waiting six years to do that.”
“What are you talking about? He stayed at your house for a month and you want to slap him? What did he ever to do to you? I thought you guys had fun when he was there.”
“We did. And he promised to keep in contact. But no! After six years NOTHING, Brooke!” I slumped down into my computer chair, feeling faint all the sudden and very tired. I rested my face in my hands. “Not a Christmas card, a birthday card. Not a damned thing. And why? Because he’s a big headed, arrogant prick who needs fifty-thousand girls screaming his name every night to feel loved.”
Brooke knelt before me, her black curls dancing about her slim face. “What did you expect? I mean, really. I guess it would have been different if the two of you were lovers or something like that but come on. You are the daughter of the people who took him in. Here, he wanted me to give you this.”
She handed me a slip of paper and, through teary eyes, I tried to read it. My emotions, however, got the best of me and I broke down, clutching the paper to my chest. Brooke tried soothing me, rubbing my back and shoulders.
“I can’t read it,” I sobbed. “I don’t want to know what it says!”
“Hey, it’s fine. You want me to read it?”
I nodded, handing her the folded and crumpled paper. I heard her opening it and she sucked in an audible breath.
“It’s quite simple,” She said. “All it says is ‘I’m sorry.’”
Drying my tears with the back of my hand, I snatched the letter from her to see for myself. Surely, in quick, shaky handwriting, Bono had written only two words to me. Only two! After six years of waiting, wondering, wishing he could only write two words!
“That bastard.” I mumbled, crumpling the paper into a ball and throwing it into the wastebasket.
“Be easy on him,” Brooke retrieved the letter. “He seemed really hurt. He didn’t say much to me.”
“That makes the two of us.”
“There was more to it than I think isn’t there?”
I could only look at her. My words were stuck in my throat like golf balls in a hose. She shook her head slightly and sighed, smoothing out Bono’s “letter.” More like a suicide note if you ask me…
“You were in love with him?” She asked.
I had to smile. “No. We were in love with each other.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Because you never would have believed me.”
She went to speak, then shut her lips. Then opened them again, shut them again. “I…I…Yes I…”
“No,” I chuckled sadly. “No you wouldn’t. But it’s ok. It’s a hard story to believe, even for myself. Especially after he just…left without looking back. I do have some proof, though.”
Thank God my boss allowed smoking in the building. Lighting a cigarette, I went to my portfolio from college and took out two envelopes. Brooke and I sat on the couch and I read out loud to her the only two letters that Edge had written to me.
“My dearest friend,
I’m glad to hear that you are doing good in college. The guys and I have always believed in you, even despite the short time we have known each other. I know that you only write Bono and he refuses to show us your letters. He says they’re too painful. But you know me, I’m a huge snoop. He likes to hide your stack of letters in the zipper of his suitcase.
Something is troubling me. You said in your last letter that you feel like giving up on school because Bono won’t contact you. Please don’t do that. You have so much to offer the world. I know you can become something great if you keep yourself motivated. If you don’t do it for yourself, at least do it for your parents and do it for your friends, Larry, Adam and myself. We all love you.
I can’t make excuses for Bono’s absence. I wish I could. But do believe me when I say that he reads and re-reads your letters, even late into the night. I have asked him why he doesn’t write back but he can never answer. He’s too stubborn to get a true answer. It’s quite selfish of him and I think you deserve some type of word from him. Unfortunately for you, the only word you will receive is from me. Adam and Larry are too afraid to write you incase Bono finds out. I could give two shits about what he thinks. He’s being terrible towards you and it’s not fair, considering how much you still care for him.
I’m not going to say I told you so because I was wrong about one thing: he really does care for you and he hasn’t been able to write a decent song since we left your house a year ago.
I hope you are doing well. We miss you terribly. Larry says you need to see Dead Man with Johnny Depp. Adam misses your homemade chocolate chip cookies. As for me, I miss your comforting words.
Don’t hesitate to write back. I know you can’t. So I will sneak away your next letter to Bono.
Your devoted friend,
Ed"
Brooke took the letter from me to witness it for herself. “Go on with the next one.”
"Darling dreamer,
I think Bono is starting to catch on about my reading his letters. I may be very snoopy but I’m clumsy as well. I accidentally left your last letter on the floor next to his bunk. I told him that he left it there and he believed me. He has the worst short-term memory in all of human society.
Anyways, I’m relieved to hear that you would never give up your education. I understand that you go through thoughts like that every once in awhile. Are you at least trying to get to know some other guys at college? I’m sure you’re surrounded by artists all the time. I’m not saying to give up Bono, but he’s obviously given up on you. And to be honest, I don’t know how he can be so cruel. He’s lucky to have found such a devoted girl such as yourself. Just remember that it’s his loss.
I don’t mean for this letter to be sad. I apologize for any harsh words that I write to you. I just don’t want to see your life go unsatisfied because of someone like him. He’s my greatest friend and I hate talking so sour about him but I can’t agree with everything that he does.
We’re on our way to Chicago now. It’s the last leg of our tour and I’m excited to have a break. My ears are starting to bleed, not literally of course, from all the loud amps. Hopefully we will be heading to the studio sometime soon. Like I said, Bono can’t write worth shit right now. If he would stop being so bloody arrogant maybe he would be able to provide the rest of us with at least one line.
I hope you have no harsh feelings towards Adam and Larry and me. We talk of you all the time, when Bono is not around. If we mention you he leaves the room. I wish I could understand him better. He’s such a mystery. But I’m sure I’m not telling you something that you don’t already know.
Stay in touch and don’t give up your dreams. We will see each other soon I hope. Maybe we can go out for a shot or two of some good ol’ Irish whiskey.
We miss you and think of you often.
Your favorite guitarist (as you so lovingly put),
Ed"
“Wow,” Brooke chuckled, almost sadly. “Did you ever write back?”
I folded the letters back into their envelopes, pushing them safely back into their hiding spot. “No.”
“Why?”
“Because he did so much for me. He’s the only one who wrote me back. I didn’t want him and Bono to get into it because of me. In a way I was very obsessive.”
“You had every right to be.”
“I suppose. It’s just not natural for someone to miss someone else like that. Sometimes I think I smothered him and that’s why he never wrote back.”
Laughing without humor, I hung my head and sucked in a breath. “He looked amazing, didn’t he? It’s funny, I have more anger towards him than love but he can still take my breath away.”
“Yes, he did look good.” She agreed.
Around my neck I felt the weight of the lacy, garnet locket and I handed it to my friend. She studied it for what seemed like hours, turning it over and over in her slender fingers, shutting it, reading it, closing it and turning it over again.
“You did a great job hiding it all these years.” She remarked. “I don’t think I would have been able to hold it in.”
“I didn’t have a choice. His career was on the line. It was bad enough that the tabloids found out he was staying with an eighteen year old in the middle of Ohio. Thank God the papers never found the house.”
Wanting to drop the subject, I turned on my laptop to begin a long day of photo-retouching. Brooke took note and did the same, turning on some music to kill the thick silence. She asked me no more questions and I was so very thankful.
A knock at the door drew me away from the green eyes of a gorgeous blond model on my screen. Lucy, my boss, stood in the doorway.
“Hey Luce. What’s up?” I asked, going back to my photo.
She walked in, her black heals clicking loudly on the wooden floor. “Not much, Jess. I got your photos this morning. They look wonderful as usual. Actually, you have been providing me with some of the greatest work since I’ve started this company. So, we have a huge project coming up and I have decided to give you the job.”
Jumping to my feet with excitement, I smiled enormously at my boss. “Really? That is so…oh my God, that’s so awesome! Thank you so much! What’s the project?”
“Well, we have a huge client coming in in about an hour and a half. I’m sorry it’s such short notice. I was going to tell you yesterday but I still contemplating on who to give the job to.”
“That is short notice. But you know me, I can whip up something in no time.”
She nodded. “Yes. Be in Studio Fifteen at twelve. And you can choose a partner, I’m sure you will choose Brooke. I’m hoping you will choose Brooke. I had a tough time picking between the two of you.”
“Yeah, of course I’m choosing you. Thank you so much Lucy. I will be in the studio an hour early to set up!”
“Good. Have fun.”
She turned to leave the office and I stopped her immediately.
“Wait, who is the client?”
“Oh, how silly of me.” She laughed. “U2.”
End of Chapter Two. Hope you enjoyed! Oh whatever will Jessica do now?! (Chapter three is in progress as we speak.))
They mean the world to me and keep me motivated to keep writing! You’re all awesome. So, just for you, here is chapter two!Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own. As much as I would like to own…
Chapter Two
Jessica felt helpless watching the four members pack away their stuff into the large tour bus that had been in her driveway for the past month. Larry kept making funny faces at her to make her laugh and it did help, if only a little. As much as she hated the snow, she wanted more than anything for it to come back, to trap them inside the house for another month…or two…After all, all five of them had become good friends. Larry and Jess had their thing of watching movies together, Adam and her liked to cook, and, aside from Bono, Edge was like a brother she never had. They would stay up until the crack of dawn talking of life, religion and politics.
Edge was the only one who knew about Jess and Bono and their secret. Sure, he disagreed with it at first. In fact, he was downright appalled. Not because of the age difference, but because he was afraid of Bono breaking the poor girls heart. She didn’t know what she was getting into. Edge knew it all too well. He has seen Bono get close to women only to push them away. Bono has been a bachelor his whole life for a reason: he couldn’t open up to a female. It was almost impossible. And Jessica…Jessica was still young, naive and a born romantic.
“Jessica,” Edge said to her when he first found out about the affair. “Listen, you’re a great girl. Mature, beyond your years, but you don’t know how he really is.”
She smiled, really appreciating his concern. “You think I don’t the risks I’m taking, Edge? I see it in his eyes. He’s…not what the world thinks he is. He has a big heart, sure. He’s talented beyond all reason. But there’s something in him that’s…”
“Missing.”
She nodded. “Yes. But I have fallen. And I really do think that he has shown me his true colors. When I’m near him I don’t feel like I’m standing next to Bono. I’m standing next to Paul. We both agreed that the moment we laid eyes on each other that there was something there. Maybe I’m that I’m missing piece.”
Edge sighed deeply and rested his hands on Jessica’s small arms. “I hope so. I can’t say that I approve of this affair but…you are right. He’s acting very different. He’s always been such a kid. Now he’s acting like a man. I’m just so worried for you. You do understand that you’re taking a leap into heartache, right?”
“I…I hope you’re wrong, Ed. I really do. I do feel it sometimes though. Actually my heart is aching with every breath I take because I know that we’re going to have to depart soon. Just please, Edge, just please try to understand.”
He kissed her forehead lightly and took her in his arms. “I do.” He said. “I understand. Just understand me when I say that I can’t help but to feel worried.”
She was wordless. She knew he was right.
Although this day was a day for grieving, Jessica could not deny the beautiful weather. Sure, it was still below freezing but the sun was out and there was a soft, crisp wintry breeze coming in from the east. She inhaled the fresh scent, wrapping her black shawl tight around herself.
Bono tapped her on the shoulder, she turned and saw him walking up the stairs. He wanted her to follow and, as not to make it so obvious, she went into her room first for about ten minutes before meeting him in the guest suite.
Instantly they embraced. While he held her, Jessica tried to make a memory of the very moment. He smells of rich cologne, she thought, and her coconut shampoo. His arms are strong, safe, protective. His breathing is calm but his heart is thundering.
“I love you,” He whispered in her ear. “Please don’t forget me.”
Edges words echoed throughout her mind like a gun in an empty alley.
She looked up into his ice eyes. “I’m afraid that I’m the one who should be asking you that.”
“Argh! That pompous, stupid, sad excuse for a man!”
Ranting about my office, I threw my laptop bag and purse down on the leather couch while pacing about the room. Brooke threw open the door and loudly slammed it. She seemed out of breath, panting and clutching the photos I had dropped on the New York sidewalk.
“What the hell is the matter with you! Are you mental!” She demanded, throwing her arms up above her head.
I turned from her and started to rearrange my desk, an OCD habit I picked up over the years. “No, I’m not mental! I’ve been waiting six years to do that.”
“What are you talking about? He stayed at your house for a month and you want to slap him? What did he ever to do to you? I thought you guys had fun when he was there.”
“We did. And he promised to keep in contact. But no! After six years NOTHING, Brooke!” I slumped down into my computer chair, feeling faint all the sudden and very tired. I rested my face in my hands. “Not a Christmas card, a birthday card. Not a damned thing. And why? Because he’s a big headed, arrogant prick who needs fifty-thousand girls screaming his name every night to feel loved.”
Brooke knelt before me, her black curls dancing about her slim face. “What did you expect? I mean, really. I guess it would have been different if the two of you were lovers or something like that but come on. You are the daughter of the people who took him in. Here, he wanted me to give you this.”
She handed me a slip of paper and, through teary eyes, I tried to read it. My emotions, however, got the best of me and I broke down, clutching the paper to my chest. Brooke tried soothing me, rubbing my back and shoulders.
“I can’t read it,” I sobbed. “I don’t want to know what it says!”
“Hey, it’s fine. You want me to read it?”
I nodded, handing her the folded and crumpled paper. I heard her opening it and she sucked in an audible breath.
“It’s quite simple,” She said. “All it says is ‘I’m sorry.’”
Drying my tears with the back of my hand, I snatched the letter from her to see for myself. Surely, in quick, shaky handwriting, Bono had written only two words to me. Only two! After six years of waiting, wondering, wishing he could only write two words!
“That bastard.” I mumbled, crumpling the paper into a ball and throwing it into the wastebasket.
“Be easy on him,” Brooke retrieved the letter. “He seemed really hurt. He didn’t say much to me.”
“That makes the two of us.”
“There was more to it than I think isn’t there?”
I could only look at her. My words were stuck in my throat like golf balls in a hose. She shook her head slightly and sighed, smoothing out Bono’s “letter.” More like a suicide note if you ask me…
“You were in love with him?” She asked.
I had to smile. “No. We were in love with each other.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Because you never would have believed me.”
She went to speak, then shut her lips. Then opened them again, shut them again. “I…I…Yes I…”
“No,” I chuckled sadly. “No you wouldn’t. But it’s ok. It’s a hard story to believe, even for myself. Especially after he just…left without looking back. I do have some proof, though.”
Thank God my boss allowed smoking in the building. Lighting a cigarette, I went to my portfolio from college and took out two envelopes. Brooke and I sat on the couch and I read out loud to her the only two letters that Edge had written to me.
“My dearest friend,
I’m glad to hear that you are doing good in college. The guys and I have always believed in you, even despite the short time we have known each other. I know that you only write Bono and he refuses to show us your letters. He says they’re too painful. But you know me, I’m a huge snoop. He likes to hide your stack of letters in the zipper of his suitcase.
Something is troubling me. You said in your last letter that you feel like giving up on school because Bono won’t contact you. Please don’t do that. You have so much to offer the world. I know you can become something great if you keep yourself motivated. If you don’t do it for yourself, at least do it for your parents and do it for your friends, Larry, Adam and myself. We all love you.
I can’t make excuses for Bono’s absence. I wish I could. But do believe me when I say that he reads and re-reads your letters, even late into the night. I have asked him why he doesn’t write back but he can never answer. He’s too stubborn to get a true answer. It’s quite selfish of him and I think you deserve some type of word from him. Unfortunately for you, the only word you will receive is from me. Adam and Larry are too afraid to write you incase Bono finds out. I could give two shits about what he thinks. He’s being terrible towards you and it’s not fair, considering how much you still care for him.
I’m not going to say I told you so because I was wrong about one thing: he really does care for you and he hasn’t been able to write a decent song since we left your house a year ago.
I hope you are doing well. We miss you terribly. Larry says you need to see Dead Man with Johnny Depp. Adam misses your homemade chocolate chip cookies. As for me, I miss your comforting words.
Don’t hesitate to write back. I know you can’t. So I will sneak away your next letter to Bono.
Your devoted friend,
Ed"
Brooke took the letter from me to witness it for herself. “Go on with the next one.”
"Darling dreamer,
I think Bono is starting to catch on about my reading his letters. I may be very snoopy but I’m clumsy as well. I accidentally left your last letter on the floor next to his bunk. I told him that he left it there and he believed me. He has the worst short-term memory in all of human society.
Anyways, I’m relieved to hear that you would never give up your education. I understand that you go through thoughts like that every once in awhile. Are you at least trying to get to know some other guys at college? I’m sure you’re surrounded by artists all the time. I’m not saying to give up Bono, but he’s obviously given up on you. And to be honest, I don’t know how he can be so cruel. He’s lucky to have found such a devoted girl such as yourself. Just remember that it’s his loss.
I don’t mean for this letter to be sad. I apologize for any harsh words that I write to you. I just don’t want to see your life go unsatisfied because of someone like him. He’s my greatest friend and I hate talking so sour about him but I can’t agree with everything that he does.
We’re on our way to Chicago now. It’s the last leg of our tour and I’m excited to have a break. My ears are starting to bleed, not literally of course, from all the loud amps. Hopefully we will be heading to the studio sometime soon. Like I said, Bono can’t write worth shit right now. If he would stop being so bloody arrogant maybe he would be able to provide the rest of us with at least one line.
I hope you have no harsh feelings towards Adam and Larry and me. We talk of you all the time, when Bono is not around. If we mention you he leaves the room. I wish I could understand him better. He’s such a mystery. But I’m sure I’m not telling you something that you don’t already know.
Stay in touch and don’t give up your dreams. We will see each other soon I hope. Maybe we can go out for a shot or two of some good ol’ Irish whiskey.
We miss you and think of you often.
Your favorite guitarist (as you so lovingly put),
Ed"
“Wow,” Brooke chuckled, almost sadly. “Did you ever write back?”
I folded the letters back into their envelopes, pushing them safely back into their hiding spot. “No.”
“Why?”
“Because he did so much for me. He’s the only one who wrote me back. I didn’t want him and Bono to get into it because of me. In a way I was very obsessive.”
“You had every right to be.”
“I suppose. It’s just not natural for someone to miss someone else like that. Sometimes I think I smothered him and that’s why he never wrote back.”
Laughing without humor, I hung my head and sucked in a breath. “He looked amazing, didn’t he? It’s funny, I have more anger towards him than love but he can still take my breath away.”
“Yes, he did look good.” She agreed.
Around my neck I felt the weight of the lacy, garnet locket and I handed it to my friend. She studied it for what seemed like hours, turning it over and over in her slender fingers, shutting it, reading it, closing it and turning it over again.
“You did a great job hiding it all these years.” She remarked. “I don’t think I would have been able to hold it in.”
“I didn’t have a choice. His career was on the line. It was bad enough that the tabloids found out he was staying with an eighteen year old in the middle of Ohio. Thank God the papers never found the house.”
Wanting to drop the subject, I turned on my laptop to begin a long day of photo-retouching. Brooke took note and did the same, turning on some music to kill the thick silence. She asked me no more questions and I was so very thankful.
A knock at the door drew me away from the green eyes of a gorgeous blond model on my screen. Lucy, my boss, stood in the doorway.
“Hey Luce. What’s up?” I asked, going back to my photo.
She walked in, her black heals clicking loudly on the wooden floor. “Not much, Jess. I got your photos this morning. They look wonderful as usual. Actually, you have been providing me with some of the greatest work since I’ve started this company. So, we have a huge project coming up and I have decided to give you the job.”
Jumping to my feet with excitement, I smiled enormously at my boss. “Really? That is so…oh my God, that’s so awesome! Thank you so much! What’s the project?”
“Well, we have a huge client coming in in about an hour and a half. I’m sorry it’s such short notice. I was going to tell you yesterday but I still contemplating on who to give the job to.”
“That is short notice. But you know me, I can whip up something in no time.”
She nodded. “Yes. Be in Studio Fifteen at twelve. And you can choose a partner, I’m sure you will choose Brooke. I’m hoping you will choose Brooke. I had a tough time picking between the two of you.”
“Yeah, of course I’m choosing you. Thank you so much Lucy. I will be in the studio an hour early to set up!”
“Good. Have fun.”
She turned to leave the office and I stopped her immediately.
“Wait, who is the client?”
“Oh, how silly of me.” She laughed. “U2.”
End of Chapter Two. Hope you enjoyed! Oh whatever will Jessica do now?! (Chapter three is in progress as we speak.))
eek!!
