Dancing With The Devil ch.16 - U2 Feedback

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Old 02-11-2011, 08:55 PM   #1
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Dancing With The Devil ch.16

Hee!
In real life this never happened. In real life Monique came in to work on May 10th and Marieke went home to enjoy a U2 concert with Lina, thus missing the phone call and the tickets. Or maybe she never existed in the first place... But it's interesting to imagine!

My hands are screaming by the time a break comes. My arms feel like noodles, dead at my sides. I push away the stubborn hair that clings to my face by way of sweat.
How I was I supposed to know setting up equipment would be so much work?
Eric comes over to me, a water bottle clutched in his hand. I uncap it and drink deeply. There’s really no excuse for me to be so exhausted. It’s only early May- not even that hot- and so far I’ve only carried Zoo TV equipment from the trucks to the stage. It’s not even assembled yet, and I’m tired out already.
“How do you do it?” I moan.
“You’re such a girl,” Eric grumbles, for once not cheerful with me. “How heavy was the heaviest thing you ever lifted?”
I think. When I moved to college I had to lift a few boxe, but they weren’t all that heavy. When I moved in with Lina I brought very little items. I’ve never lifted weights or anything like that, and my current job requires me to only lift a telephone.
“Sheesh,” Eric mutters, leaning back against the stage. “Now we know one job that’s not cut out for you.”
“Why am I doing it?” I remind him. No one’s been able to answer that for me yet.
He sighs. “We can’t just let you sit around.”
I rest, leaning against the stage with Eric. Some of the other crew members are also resting, though no one is as tired as me. Jack splits out from his group and comes up to Eric and I. He throws the words at us in Dutch- “Marieke, how is work going?”
I shrug. “How’d you learn to say that?” I ask back in my native tongue.
Jack responds in English. “I lived in Rotterdam once, with some Dutch friends. They were all really nice…” He stops and greets Eric, who is watching us with slightly narrowed eyes.
“You can speak Dutch?”
“What, Eric? You didn’t know that about me? Well, you’ve learned it now.” He steps away from us and slides on past the stage, eventually turning his back completely.
Eric stares after Jack but directs his words to me. “You can ignore him. Jack’s never been open with anyone. I barely know a thing about that man…”
I stare after Jack too and partially block out Eric’s murmur. That’s why the shout startles me. “Get back to work!”
Jack’s smiling at the crew, so I know he’s just joking around with us. But some people take it seriously and rush back to the equipment, ready to set it up. I heave a deep sigh and go on to join them, but Eric catches my wrist.
“Hey. I noticed you were rubbing your hands… do they hurt?”
“Not that bad,” I try to tell him, but he’s already massaging my hands gently, taking care not to hurt me with his touch. I start to protest, but then shut up because it actually feels good. I let Eric rub my hands for me, and then pull them away from him.
Walking back to see what I can do to help the rest of the crew, I think that Eric’s gotten a bit too touchy-feely. I should probably set our boundaries before he assumes anything. Maybe I can get a room all to myself- God, the last time I had a room to myself was in that hotel in Lisbon. What a relief it was then! Sharing a flat with someone can take away your freedom.
And the work continues, and I take my mind off the exertion by fantasizing about Wednesday, when I can just sit back and enjoy a U2 show as I’ve previously done. Maybe this time it will be even sweeter.
The guy who likes my hips has now taken a new interest in me, and tells his friend "She's got a nice ass too," as if I can't hear him or don't understand. Catch a clue, fellow.
***
Bono doesn’t see Marieke for a day. When he spies her again, with Eric in the stadium, he almost doesn’t recognize her. Her lustrous chestnut hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she’s wearing the uniform of the Zoo crew instead of the white blouse he’d seen her in a morning ago. The clothes don’t seem to fit her, and Bono assumes she borrowed them from Eric. The more he looks, the more Marieke appears disgusted to be wearing the outfit.
“The band’s here,” Eric whispers to me. I look and spy Bono on the side of the stage, talking with someone. Nearby, Edge and Adam are meeting with their technicians, probably getting instruments. I don’t see Larry yet- oh wait, now he’s in view, sticking a pair of drumsticks into his pocket. The sun blinds me for a moment, and I blink, shaking Eric off when he moves closer.
“Marieke, I want to go.”
“You said you’d bring me to see soundchecks,” I remind him. “I want to change now.”
Eric frowns and says nothing. I climb up onto the stage, making out to the side that Bono’s standing at.
Marieke’s left Eric now and is onstage, heading towards Bono himself. The singer smiles. “Hey!”
Eric’s hovering around the foot of the stage, watching Marieke and Bono with a worried, partially murderous expression. It makes Bono want to laugh. He tells the guy to chill- “You’ve had her all day, haven’t you? It’s only fair I get my turn.”
And then moves on to the pressing topic. “What are you doing here?”
I stare into Bono’s lovely face. He’s not wearing the leather jacket right now, but the Fly shades are on. It unsettles me a bit before I decide it’s probably easier not seeing his eyes and answer the question. “I wanted to see the soundchecks. I’m just changing clothes now.”
“Right now? Slow down, girl!” Bono gasps, feigning shock.
I give him a withering look. It does nothing to stop his smile. “Come on, it was a joke.”
“You’d better hurry up, Marieke,” Adam calls to us from the stage. He’s holding a bass guitar now, and I can imagine is impatient to start playing. “We need to practice.”
“We’re not staying?” I ask.
Bono shrugs. “You can stay if you want to.” He watches Marieke dash backstage to change clothes. Once again, he wonders what job she can be hired for.
I return in my old outfit to the sound of Edge’s guitar. Before leaving the stage I stand for a moment, trying to decipher which song it is. It doesn’t take me too long to realize it’s Zoo Station.
The full band is onstage now, and some crew members I haven’t noticed are going around the stadium, making sure the sound is doing what it’s supposed to. Bono comes over to me at the side of the stage- “You look lost.” I wasn’t aware I looked like anything, and ask, “The showis tomorrow?”
“Yeah, we’re just rehearsing today. Helps you get in practice if you start a day early, you know?” I don’t know, but I’d rather hear Bono speak to me than tell him that.
I hop down from the stage and stand back, pretending I’m in GA. The band looks pretty good from this distance, and the sound is excellent. Edge stops playing for a moment to adjust something, and in that moment Eric calls, “You’re staying here?”
I nod. “I’ll be all right,” I tell him, convinced that nothing could happen to me here in the stadium. He looks unsure, but finally leaves me alone.
The other instruments- bass and drums- have their turn to practice. I’m impatient for Bono’s vocals, but I guess I’ll have to wait a bit. We did a good job of setting up the mics- they collect the sound and fling it back to the audience perfectly, with no feedback.
Bono peers into the imaginary audience. He sees Marieke standing down there in the general admission seats, her eyes shining up at him. He yanks a microphone off its stand and sings without warning. “Time is a train, it makes the future the past. Leaves you standing in the station…”
“Your face pressed against the glass,” I mouth. Bono notices that and gives me a smile and something of a nod.
“Straight from the top?” Edge asks.
“From the top,” Bono answers, and they run back onstage as Edge begins the riff for Zoo Station.
Bono practices the high kicks. He doesn’t look into the audience again, but he bets Marieke is watching him.
As soon as the kicking begins, I am riveted on his legs, sheathed in black leather pants. Leather pants… gosh, who ever thought of that invention? I want to give them a huge hug and a hearty word of thanks.
Bono slinks onto the front of the stage. He’s gotten very good at playing the part of a self-absorbed rock star, something that he definitely was not in the 80’s. Creating The Fly was the best thing he could have done for himself at that point. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration… but it really has brought the shift from 80’s hardworking band to 90’s devil-may-care band along more easily. Bono had to turn into someone else to accept the change.
“I’m ready, I’m ready for the laughing gas…” He’s so incredibly close to me, and I scream without thinking. “YEEAAAAAAAAAAAH!” That brings the performance to a standstill.
When the music abruptly shuts off, I stop shrieking. Larry stands up from behind the drum kit and asks, “Can you control yourself or do you have to leave?”
“Cut her some slack, Larry, she’s a fan like all the others,” Bono admonishes him. “You’ve dealt with thousand s more of them at a time than her.” He looks calm and addresses me now- “It’s okay Marieke, you can stay here. It’s good practice for tomorrow night- there will be many more fans than you.”
I nod, but am ashamed. Larry is sitting back at the drums, but he’s looking at me oddly, like he wants to get rid of me. I can’t blame him. I thought I could handle being alone with the band and then ended up acting all crazy.
“You’re not going to be in general admission tomorrow night though; all the spots are sold out,” Bono mentions, still talking to me. I think I can see Larry sigh, annoyed.
“Will I be in the show?” I ask.
Bono isn’t sure. “You don’t have tickets, but we could let you watch from backstage. Would that please you?”
What? He doesn’t have to ask. “I’d love it!”
“Can we please get back on track, Bono?” Larry leans against the drums and rests his head on his hand.
“In a very, very short minute,” Bono says. He addresses me again- “You’ll do it?”
“Yes,” I breathe. The thought of watching a U2 concert from backstage is mind-boggling.
“All right.” Behind his shades I see him wink. “See you there, love.” And the band starts up again, leaving me without any air to speak of.
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Old 02-11-2011, 09:03 PM   #2
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Quote:
“You’re such a girl,” Eric grumbles, for once not cheerful with me. “How heavy was the heaviest thing you ever lifted?”
Rrr, ERIC! Ok, I'm kicking him now.

Quote:
The guy who likes my hips has now taken a new interest in me, and tells his friend "She's got a nice ass too,"
Never mind. I meant, him AND this guy.

Quote:
“I wanted to see the soundchecks. I’m just changing clothes now.”
“Right now? Slow down, girl!” Bono gasps, feigning shock.
Hehehe...ah, Bono...

and leather pants! Mmmm.

The next chapter sounds exciting...oh my.
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Old 02-11-2011, 09:09 PM   #3
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I know, they're such jerks to her! I think I can hear them both shouting in pain...

Although I'm not convinced they are leather, too shiny! Whatever it is those pants were epic!
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Old 02-11-2011, 09:18 PM   #4
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Ahhh, satisfying to cause fictional characters pain. When they deserve it, that is

I enjoy those pants. Whether they were leather or not. His leather pants are nice too
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Old 02-11-2011, 09:50 PM   #5
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Any kind of shiny, smooth pants are okay in my book.
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Old 02-11-2011, 09:56 PM   #6
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Yum. Agreed
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adam, bono, edge, flirty, larry, zoo crew, zoo tv

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