LoveandLogic
Refugee
A/N: 
fellow readers! So after posting a thread in here, a few of you have encouraged me to write the Prologue to Adrift--the very, very beginning of Bono and Jess. So, here is the first chapter just for you! Leave me some love because I'm giving you tons with this story! 
Also, I'm trying to keep to the original flashbacks in the first story as close as I can. However, having grown in my writing and my U2 history, I did switch up some dates and little facts. I'm sure a lot of you don't mind, though.
Rating: PG-13, some mild language
Author: LoveAndLogic
Disclaimer: Oh, with the disclaimers...FICTIONAL! None of this happened anywhere in real life aside from my imagination!
* * * * *
“Bono, we’re going to have to stop sometime soon. The snow is getting worse and the roads are freezing over,” Edge warned in a very concerned sort of tone, his neck stretched and hazel eyes squinting toward the large, blizzard infested window of our tour bus. We had just left Montreal Canada, heading in the direction of (what was supposed to be) Richfield Ohio. On the first leg of our Zoo TV tour, I felt an customary nature of obligation to provide our driver with a couple days off to spend with his family. The poor block lost out on Christmas and I just felt ghastly about the whole ordeal. I admit, it was a sensitive quality that I carried and, though it benefited others in the process, it occasionally came back to bite me in the arse. And now, I was slightly regretting it. Night had fallen quicker than normal, bringing with it a waterfall of flurries. Canada wasn’t nearly this bad, neither was New York or Philadelphia. We had to have been in Ohio by now.
“I know Edge,” I responded quietly while we both turned up the heat to try and rid the fog that had vaporized the windows, making it just as more difficult to see than before. “I’m sorry I got us into this. I promise we’ll stop somewhere.”
Edge nodded and rested a hand on my shoulder, kneading away at the knots that had formed beneath the skin just below my neck. Luckily he did this-the massage relaxed me, not enough to put me to sleep yet just the right amount to comfort me. Edge knew it was of poor judgment to take control of our bus regulations. If our manager were to find out about this he would wring my neck. It’s true, U2, our band, wasn’t as out of favor in comparison to when our first album, Boy, came out twelve years ago. In fact, after the Joshua Tree took off in 1987, we were dubbed as the biggest rock group in the world.
Now, in 1992 with our seventh album, Achtung Baby, on the shelves of music shops across the globe, we were in quite high demand and people recognized our faces in all parts of the world. Hell, just walking down the streets at any daylight hour guaranteed us a thunderous mob of greedy fans. When I gave our driver the days off, I suppose I didn’t think of my safety (or the safety of my mate’s for that matter).
Honestly, I was just trying to do something nice for someone else. However, I realize now that maybe I shouldn’t have.
“We wouldn’t be in this situation if someone wouldn’t have given our driver a vacation.” Larry shot at me from the back of the bus, the vision of his body clear in the review mirror, arms crossed and lips puckered. Sometimes he could be a real plonker when he was tired and irritated. Then again, we were all tired and bothered.
“Don’t be so shallow,” I snapped back with a grin. “He didn’t get to see his family for Christmas. He has three kids and a wife. It’s not fair to have a father and husband drive hundreds of miles during the holidays. I promised him this break long ago. Really, it’s not that horrid, mate. We’ll be fine, I’m keeping my eyes peeled.”
“Why didn’t you just hire another driver then?”
I sighed, shifting in my seat and Edge gave me his usual “I’m sorry” face before sitting in the passenger’s seat to act as co-pilot. At least one of the three of my mates weren’t completely disappointed and bitter towards their lead singer and front man.
“You’re already a bad driver as it is!”
“For God sakes, Larry, will you just let me focus?”
Adam was the only member remaining quiet, his body language calm while gazing out the window to his right. “He’s right, Larry, Bono needs to be relaxed. With all of us yelling at him it’s only going to make situations worse for us all.”
Larry stood up, placing his hands on his hips, his brows crossed. “It wouldn’t be so bad if Bono was actually driving on the right side of the road.”
“I am on the right side of the road!”
“You’re supposed to be on the left side, Bono! We’re in feckin’ Ireland!”
“There are no lines on this road! How the hell am I supposed to see what is the right side or not?
“We have to stop, Bono.” Adam spoke up.
“I’m trying to find a place, Clayton. We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere. What state are we in anyways?”
“Ohio,” Larry rolled his eyes. “You should know this, Bono. You’re the one driving!”
Ignoring my mates battering, I had to feel some brand of relief: at least we made it to our destination…somewhat. Early on, when we first decided this journey, the radio cautioned of a probable snowstorm. None of them, however, mentioned any word of Ohio. Most of Chicago and Michigan were on the radar for the eye of the storm. Apparently, weathermen are incorrect on every single station across America. Edge must’ve read my mind, flicking the stereo on, rummaging through the channels. The bus was quiet, even Larry had sat down on the ledge of the nook, holding his chin in his hands, his blue eyes concentrated. Adam was chill as before, still watching the snow fall from the dead Ohio sky.
“All the stations are down,” Edge shook his head, leaning back into his seat and toying with the rim of his black knit cap. “What are we going to do? There are no houses around, no sign of life at all! I don’t even see roads-only snow. We’re obviously nowhere near a big city. I see farms for god’s sakes!”
“That explains a lot.” I laughed, only moments prior to Edge’s comments, I tried making out the large fields of, what I would infer to be, at one point or another, occupied with rows and rows of corn. We truly were stranded in a city of non-civilization. Despite the fact that we were running low on fuel (a secret I kept from Larry) and the fact that the windshield wipers were providing no justice, what frightened me the most was the need to seek out shelter for the three men in the bus with me. The last thing I wanted to do was put them in danger and, so far, I was doing a terrible job of keeping them protected.
“What are we going to do if we don’t find shelter?” Adam asked in his care-free character, crossing one leg over the other while lighting a fag.
I shrugged. “I guess stay in the bus and hope for the best.”
“That’s reassuring,” perked Larry, huffing and pouting to himself. Once again, I ignored the drummer. He was getting grumpier by the minute. It was no wonder why our fans called him Sullen Mullen. On the other hand, I was the last person who should be getting angry. Shite, I was the one who got us into this mess in the first place.
The bus was starting to wear down, pushing through the thickness of the snow, whining and shaking, causing the gas gage to lower quicker than average. Dear God, I prayed silently in my head, please don’t leave us in this mess! Alas, there was nothing I could do. The last sight of a building was a small corner store, its lights off and car free, clearly indicating that the store owners had shut down for the night.
What time was it anyways? I looked to the right on the dashboard and saw the green, digital numbers flash 2:45 a.m. We’d been driving non-stop for almost eighteen hours. Granted we would have made it to Richfield a lot earlier if not for the weather. Nevertheless, the bus trotted along at a sluggish twenty-miles per hour, the roads slippery and more than likely concealing patches of black ice.
“Bono,” Edge said to me in a soft voice, either to veil what he wanted to say from the others or because he wanted to be empathetic. “Maybe we should just pull over. It’s not safe to keep driving in this. We can’t see the roads at all and the bus is getting tired as I’m sure you are.”
He was right, as usual. The Edge-always the voice of suggestion. Feeling low of myself, regretting my rash decision immediately the moment I saw my three mates and their worried faces, I was about ready to call it quits and take Edge’s advice. There was no possible way we could continue through with the weather being so hellish.
That is, until Adam perked up, standing to his feet and yelling excitingly, “Look, lads, lights! Is that a driveway?”
Larry and Edge were at his side in a flash, squeezing their heads together to get a better sight out the window. I slowed down even more to a measly ten miles per hour just in case there really was a house nearby. My heart thudded with anticipation, impatiently waiting for their confirmation.
“Is there a house?” Questioned Edge. “Are you sure those are lights, Adam?”
“I’m bloody sure! Why do you think I’ve been keeping my eyes open out the same window for the last God knows how many hours?”
“Ok, ok, but I just want to make sure it’s a house and not a lamp to a pond or something.”
“Who cares, just pull into it.” Larry demanded, scuffing.
For the first time that night, I took Larry’s advice and turned left into the long, winding driveway. Just past the snowflakes on the window, we all broke into cheers of happiness and hoots and hollers upon approaching a very large, two story house. Larry, Adam and Edge were exchanging hugs and lighting cigarettes to celebrate our founding of refuge. Inching closer, we saw that the porch was covered up to the rail with white powder. Turning off the bus, I sat back in the driver’s seat and let out a much awaited sigh of relief.
“Alright, let’s go knock!” Larry proclaimed, grabbing his duffel bag.
I stopped him at once. Larry could be so eager sometimes. “You wanker, it’s three in the morning. It’s rude.”
“This is a crisis!” Larry practically shrieked, throwing his bag over his fit shoulders. Suddenly, his mood changed and he grinned slyly.“Besides, I’m sure a fourteen year old girl lives here and once she sees you she will become your slave.”
“I’m dying of humor.”
Edge grunted. No doubt he’s at his brink of irritation with the two of us. “Come on, mates. Relax. Bono, Larry is right, I’m afraid. We can’t stay in the bus all night. Eventually the battery is going to die because of the cold. And if we sleep in here we’re all going to get ill. I’m sure whoever lives here will understand our situation and we can offer them money to let us stay.”
He had me convinced. There was no other choice. Either we risked waking up strangers in the wee hours of the A.M. or we freeze our arses off in a nearly-broke down bus. Personally, I choose the former. “Alright. Get your stuff, mates.”
In a hurry, the four of us collected only our much needed luggage. All we really required was a change of clothes and toiletries until morning. Adam did grab his bass and Edge his acoustic Washburn and electric Gibson Les Paul. Extremely cold weather such as this is not helpful on instruments.
Piling off the bus one by one, Larry anxiously lead the way, fighting through knee-high snow. Wrapping my leather coat tighter around my waist, the four of us were shivering all at once, the breeze so crisp and bitter that it stung through right to the bone. It seemed as though it took days to reach the porch, our trousers soaked and hair frozen. With clattering teeth, Larry and I were in the front of the door with Adam and Edge behind us, jumping in place to stay Edge and I inhaled our cigarettes to try and stay warm. By the way, it is a myth that cigarettes heat the body. If anything, I was getting colder and colder by the second.
“You ring first, Larry punched me in the arm, his voice quivering.“This whole thing was your brilliant idea!”
“I don’t want to ring! You ring!” I shot back, giving Larry’s shoulder a good blow in response.
Edge shoved himself between us with a grunt. “Good God, you’re both impossible.”
Edge rang the doorbell and, practically straight away, a light switched on from the first floor. Waiting impatiently yet respectfully, we trembled from the piercing winter wind, our bodies coated with snow. Finally, the blue door of the large house opened and standing before us was a young girl dressed in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a black, long sleeved shirt. Thankfully we didn’t awake her, or so I gathered, her hair still stylishly made and face painted with skillfully applied makeup. Stretching my lips into a smile, I cleared my throat after a long minutes silence. I’m more than certain that she was fully aware of who was at her door.
“Hi, I’m Paul Hewson and these are my mates. I’m terribly sorry about the late hour, but our bus,” I pointed to the beat up vehicle in the driveway, “broke down in your drive and we were wondering if we could rent out a room.”
Speechless, the girl didn’t mutter a word, staring unbelievably at us, her eyes wide and mouth faintly ajar. Another light from upstairs switched on, as did a large chandelier in the open foyer, bringing the house to life. A woman in a white robe trotted down the stairs, a man following closely behind.
The woman set her hands on the young girls shoulders, pushing her aside. “Who is it, Jessie, dear? Oh,” She gasped at us. “Hello there. Can I help you?”
“Uh, yes, I’m sorry that it’s so late. I was just explaining to your…daughter?” I asked.
“Yes,” The woman nodded.
“I was explaining to your daughter that our bus broke down in your driveway. I understand that your house isn’t a hotel but we really need a place to stay. Oh, how rude of me, this is Larry, Edge, Adam and I’m Bono.”
Reaching my hand out to shake their hands, Jessie, like a statue of rock, fell sideways, hitting the ground with a loud thud. Edge, Adam and Larry all pushed against me to try and help, the three, including myself, shocked and concerned. Now they defiantly wouldn’t let us stay here. Not when we made their poor daughter faint at the mere sight of us. It’s not as though we hadn’t caused other females to faint, however, circumstances as of now were slightly different than that of a concert.
“Oh, my God!” Her mother kneeled to the floor. “Sorry, she’s a big fan.” She looked up and smiled, amused, obviously, by the reaction of her offspring whom was out cold on the wooden floor. “Would you mind helping me? Alan has a bad back and shouldn’t be lifting anything over seventy pounds.”
I inferred that Alan was the guy standing at the stairway, arms at his side and face resembling his daughters only seconds before she passed out.
“Oh, yes, yes, of course.” Shuffling my bag towards Edge, I was on my knees quickly, shoving my arms under the girls fragile shoulders and legs, picking her up with ease. “It’s quite alright. I think we startled her. Where should I put her?”
“Follow me into the living room. On the couch right there.” She answered, pointing to a room off the corner of the main foyer. “And please, gentleman, come on in before you catch a cold.”
I could practically hear my band mates smile, the sound of the door being closed and shoes squeaking on the floor. The woman indicated to them to place their shoes near the stairway so that they didn’t slip and fall. Thank God they were a nice family! I was so worried that we would get turned down or that the family would be stuck up. Then again, this wasn’t the olden days. People were hard to trust anymore whether they were of fame or not.
Meanwhile, the girl in my arms remained lifeless aside from her steady breathing. She had gained some color back to her face, her cheeks blushing with a soft graze of magenta. Although I couldn’t see her eyes, she had lovely long lashes and shapely eyebrows, her lips pouty and naturally pink.
Truthfully, she was very pretty. I would say beautiful if it didn’t make me feel as though I was being a complete pervert. I had to have been at least twice her senior.
The living room was very cozy and had a nice, familiar family orientated aura. The couch was of brown plush, the floors hardwood and the end tables and main table cherry wood with a glossy finish. There was fireplace on the far left and the smell of burnt ashes still lingered. On the wall behind me was a bookshelf holding family photos and next to that an entertainment center in the same cherry oak as the rest of the wooden furniture.
Gently laying the girl down on the sofa, I looked about the living room one last time: at the love seat in the left corner, the recliner next to the brick fireplace and at the two lamps turned off on the end tables between the pattern of furniture. Lastly, before joining my mates in the kitchen which connected to the living room, I took one last glance at the girl on the couch, her body limp and hair of almond.
Once in the kitchen, I removed my shoes and threw them with another pile of footwear near, what I’m guessing, the basement door. Growing up, my small circle of friends never failed to remind me how quickly I can adjust to other folks homes. And now, with touring all over the world and sleeping in countless amounts of strange hotel beds, that comfort had only grown.
“I’m Lynn,” the woman said, shaking my hand and smiling. Pointing to the man next to her, she then introduce, “Alan, my husband, and that,” she motioned to unconscious girl across the way, “is Jessie. No need to introduce yourselves once again, I’m fully aware of who you are.” As she said our names, we kissed the back of her hand. “Adam Clayton, Larry Mullen Jr., The Edge and, of course, the infamous Bono. As I said, my daughter is a big fan of yours. She actually has tickets to the Richfield show but from the look of things, none of you might not make it. You boys looked chilled. Would you care for some tea? Coffee?”
“Yeah, that would be wonderful, actually.” Larry thanked Lynn and she winked toward him. She was truly a charming woman, slightly curvy, her hair the same color as her daughters and skin just as fair. Alan remained in the background, not saying a word. Not that it made me uncomfortable, I was just trying to figure out if he was angry, tired or still in shock.
Sometimes…I really hate being famous.
“I’m terribly sorry about my daughter. I’ve never seen her faint before.” Lynn remarked while preparing both a pot of tea on the black stove and coffee in big coffee maker.
“We should be the ones apologizing.” Edge said. “Showing up at your house like this and putting your daughter in a temporary coma. It’s downright rude.”
Lynn flung her hand to the side, “Oh, now, don’t sound so discouraged. She’ll come back sooner or later. Trust me,” She grinned. “Once the coffee is made she’ll be right up. It’s the easiest way to wake her, ya know. Unlike other eighteen year old girls, I don’t have to drag her ass out of bed or pour cold water on her face. All I have to do is brew some coffee and she’s downstairs in a flash.”
We laughed and I sneaked a look at my mates, trying to sort out their expressions. Adam, as usual, was very calm, Larry hung on to every word Lynn said, he probably saw her as a saint. And Edge was fidgeting with his fingers, appearing somewhat…worried? Perhaps I was looking too much into it, I concluded.
“You boys can sit down,” Lynn told us. “Don’t be shy. We don’t bite. Once we get something hot in your bellies Alan will show you to your rooms.”
Alan nodded, his built large and buff. He had to have been in the Army of some sort. Only Army men had that straight of posture. Alan was handsome fellow with salt and pepper grey hair and neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His structure, on the other hand, scared the shite out of me. The block was very burly and tall.
For the first time he spoke, his voice surprisingly sweet and soft. “Of course. You will just have to give us a half hour or so to set everything up. Actually, before this goes any further, what exactly happened?”
We chuckled together and three pairs of eyes trailed over to where I now sat at the kitchen counter on a stool. I went on to explain about me giving the driver a few days off, of the long drive from Canada to Ohio, the bus running out of gas just as we pulled into the driveway. Lynn and Alan listened attentively, Adam, Larry and Edge interrupting here or there, commenting mostly on the fact that I was a plonker for even thinking we could have pulled this off ourselves.
Once we were done with our tale and our bellies warm with our hot drink of choice, Alan was grinning ear to ear and laughing hysterically. “I have to say, Bono, you’ve got some hardness to you! If I was as known as you are I wouldn’t go anywhere without bodyguards or a personal driver.”
Lynn smacked her husband’s arm and flashed us a bashful smile. “Forgive my husband, he can be a bit outspoken at times. Alan, dear, they were doing a good deed. You guys are obviously very down to earth, if you ask me. Taking control of your own tour bus shows integrity.”
Edge raised his eyebrows and thanked Lynn sincerely, the rest of us following suit. It really was a nice compliment, especially after all the crap that my friends had been pushing on me for the last nineteen hours.
“I wasn’t trying to sound disrespectful in any means, guys,” Alan added, still laughing. “With that aside, we have to figure out the rooming situation. We have a guest suite upstairs and one downstairs next to the dining room right over there.” He pointed to another large room behind them. “The den, which is on your left when you first walk into the foyer, is probably the biggest room in the house aside from the master bedroom and it has a pull out bed. We have a blow up mattress that can fit in the den. So pretty much two of you will have a room and two of you will have to bunk together.”
“Nothing unusual for us,” Adam chuckled. “In fact, Larry and I can share the den. Bono and Edge dread sharing a room with anyone.”
“Ah, well, now that it’s settled, would you like some more to drink?” Lynn asked and four mugs were practically thrown in her face.
“Uh…Lynn,” I scratched the back of my head. “Where are we exactly? Are we in Richfield?”
She giggled, pouring me another cup of coffee while she spoke. “No, dear, you’re in Ashtabula County. Which is kind of close to Richfield. You’re heading for Summit County and Summit is about two counties away.”
“Aye…well, I guess it doesn’t make much of a difference now. Looks like we’re stuck, eh?”
She nodded and the room filled with laughter.
Though I was beyond exhausted and worried about what tomorrow may bring, my mates and I stayed up with Lynn, talking about the weather and silly things while Alan went to work setting up the guest rooms. The house was so pleasant, as well as the people in it, that I knew for sure that we would have a homely stay, thank God. I could barely wait to slip into a snug, warm, made bed that didn’t involve scratchy sheets or flat pillows.
While Larry, Adam and myself spoke with Lynn, Edge suddenly chirped a very friendly, “Hello, there.” Turning to look at what, or whom, he was speaking, Jessica stood right before him while rubbing a spot on the back of her head. Edge smiled a boyish grin and he offered her his hand. She questioned him with her eyes, most likely trying to determine if she was still unconscious or not.
Then she reached out a shaky hand, enveloping her fingers around his. “Hello, Jessica, I’m Edge. It’s very nice to meet you.”
She crossed her brows at him and failed at an attempt to smile. I had to admit, she was quite amusing. At least she wasn’t screaming and attacking us like so many other female fans. Actually, she was very adult about the whole thing and one by one, Adam and Larry introduced themselves, even though she knew quite well who we were. Still, it was only polite, especially if you’re in someone else’s house.
Having been the furthest away, I was last in line to take her hand. Our eyes met, blue to brown and she bit the corner of her lower lip when our hands met. A shiver echoed over my skin. From the cold, of course. Right?
Yes, from the cold.
She was shaking profusely, her face whitening once again. And I don’t know if it was just me, but the room was so deafening quiet. Sooner or later one of us had to speak up. If not, this is just going to get very awkward. What in the bloody hell was the matter with me? I meet thousands upon thousands of people every day. I bring strangers up on stage and slow dance with them before millions. And now, in this very instant, in a private home with only three strangers, I couldn’t even utter a single word.
Something in those eyes. Yes, there was something about those deep pools of brown honey that drew me into an alternate universe.
Snap out of it! Say something!
“Feeling better, Jessica?” I managed, my own throat tight and tongue dry. Her face now alabaster, I knew she what was to occur next. Her hand slipped out of mine and in one swift motion, before any of could react…
THUMP!
“She fainted again,” I laughed, kneeling on the ground for the second time that night.
Eh? Is it reaching the Adrifters expectations?
fellow readers! So after posting a thread in here, a few of you have encouraged me to write the Prologue to Adrift--the very, very beginning of Bono and Jess. So, here is the first chapter just for you! Leave me some love because I'm giving you tons with this story! Also, I'm trying to keep to the original flashbacks in the first story as close as I can. However, having grown in my writing and my U2 history, I did switch up some dates and little facts. I'm sure a lot of you don't mind, though.
Rating: PG-13, some mild language
Author: LoveAndLogic
Disclaimer: Oh, with the disclaimers...FICTIONAL! None of this happened anywhere in real life aside from my imagination!
* * * * *
“Bono, we’re going to have to stop sometime soon. The snow is getting worse and the roads are freezing over,” Edge warned in a very concerned sort of tone, his neck stretched and hazel eyes squinting toward the large, blizzard infested window of our tour bus. We had just left Montreal Canada, heading in the direction of (what was supposed to be) Richfield Ohio. On the first leg of our Zoo TV tour, I felt an customary nature of obligation to provide our driver with a couple days off to spend with his family. The poor block lost out on Christmas and I just felt ghastly about the whole ordeal. I admit, it was a sensitive quality that I carried and, though it benefited others in the process, it occasionally came back to bite me in the arse. And now, I was slightly regretting it. Night had fallen quicker than normal, bringing with it a waterfall of flurries. Canada wasn’t nearly this bad, neither was New York or Philadelphia. We had to have been in Ohio by now.
“I know Edge,” I responded quietly while we both turned up the heat to try and rid the fog that had vaporized the windows, making it just as more difficult to see than before. “I’m sorry I got us into this. I promise we’ll stop somewhere.”
Edge nodded and rested a hand on my shoulder, kneading away at the knots that had formed beneath the skin just below my neck. Luckily he did this-the massage relaxed me, not enough to put me to sleep yet just the right amount to comfort me. Edge knew it was of poor judgment to take control of our bus regulations. If our manager were to find out about this he would wring my neck. It’s true, U2, our band, wasn’t as out of favor in comparison to when our first album, Boy, came out twelve years ago. In fact, after the Joshua Tree took off in 1987, we were dubbed as the biggest rock group in the world.
Now, in 1992 with our seventh album, Achtung Baby, on the shelves of music shops across the globe, we were in quite high demand and people recognized our faces in all parts of the world. Hell, just walking down the streets at any daylight hour guaranteed us a thunderous mob of greedy fans. When I gave our driver the days off, I suppose I didn’t think of my safety (or the safety of my mate’s for that matter).
Honestly, I was just trying to do something nice for someone else. However, I realize now that maybe I shouldn’t have.
“We wouldn’t be in this situation if someone wouldn’t have given our driver a vacation.” Larry shot at me from the back of the bus, the vision of his body clear in the review mirror, arms crossed and lips puckered. Sometimes he could be a real plonker when he was tired and irritated. Then again, we were all tired and bothered.
“Don’t be so shallow,” I snapped back with a grin. “He didn’t get to see his family for Christmas. He has three kids and a wife. It’s not fair to have a father and husband drive hundreds of miles during the holidays. I promised him this break long ago. Really, it’s not that horrid, mate. We’ll be fine, I’m keeping my eyes peeled.”
“Why didn’t you just hire another driver then?”
I sighed, shifting in my seat and Edge gave me his usual “I’m sorry” face before sitting in the passenger’s seat to act as co-pilot. At least one of the three of my mates weren’t completely disappointed and bitter towards their lead singer and front man.
“You’re already a bad driver as it is!”
“For God sakes, Larry, will you just let me focus?”
Adam was the only member remaining quiet, his body language calm while gazing out the window to his right. “He’s right, Larry, Bono needs to be relaxed. With all of us yelling at him it’s only going to make situations worse for us all.”
Larry stood up, placing his hands on his hips, his brows crossed. “It wouldn’t be so bad if Bono was actually driving on the right side of the road.”
“I am on the right side of the road!”
“You’re supposed to be on the left side, Bono! We’re in feckin’ Ireland!”
“There are no lines on this road! How the hell am I supposed to see what is the right side or not?
“We have to stop, Bono.” Adam spoke up.
“I’m trying to find a place, Clayton. We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere. What state are we in anyways?”
“Ohio,” Larry rolled his eyes. “You should know this, Bono. You’re the one driving!”
Ignoring my mates battering, I had to feel some brand of relief: at least we made it to our destination…somewhat. Early on, when we first decided this journey, the radio cautioned of a probable snowstorm. None of them, however, mentioned any word of Ohio. Most of Chicago and Michigan were on the radar for the eye of the storm. Apparently, weathermen are incorrect on every single station across America. Edge must’ve read my mind, flicking the stereo on, rummaging through the channels. The bus was quiet, even Larry had sat down on the ledge of the nook, holding his chin in his hands, his blue eyes concentrated. Adam was chill as before, still watching the snow fall from the dead Ohio sky.
“All the stations are down,” Edge shook his head, leaning back into his seat and toying with the rim of his black knit cap. “What are we going to do? There are no houses around, no sign of life at all! I don’t even see roads-only snow. We’re obviously nowhere near a big city. I see farms for god’s sakes!”
“That explains a lot.” I laughed, only moments prior to Edge’s comments, I tried making out the large fields of, what I would infer to be, at one point or another, occupied with rows and rows of corn. We truly were stranded in a city of non-civilization. Despite the fact that we were running low on fuel (a secret I kept from Larry) and the fact that the windshield wipers were providing no justice, what frightened me the most was the need to seek out shelter for the three men in the bus with me. The last thing I wanted to do was put them in danger and, so far, I was doing a terrible job of keeping them protected.
“What are we going to do if we don’t find shelter?” Adam asked in his care-free character, crossing one leg over the other while lighting a fag.
I shrugged. “I guess stay in the bus and hope for the best.”
“That’s reassuring,” perked Larry, huffing and pouting to himself. Once again, I ignored the drummer. He was getting grumpier by the minute. It was no wonder why our fans called him Sullen Mullen. On the other hand, I was the last person who should be getting angry. Shite, I was the one who got us into this mess in the first place.
The bus was starting to wear down, pushing through the thickness of the snow, whining and shaking, causing the gas gage to lower quicker than average. Dear God, I prayed silently in my head, please don’t leave us in this mess! Alas, there was nothing I could do. The last sight of a building was a small corner store, its lights off and car free, clearly indicating that the store owners had shut down for the night.
What time was it anyways? I looked to the right on the dashboard and saw the green, digital numbers flash 2:45 a.m. We’d been driving non-stop for almost eighteen hours. Granted we would have made it to Richfield a lot earlier if not for the weather. Nevertheless, the bus trotted along at a sluggish twenty-miles per hour, the roads slippery and more than likely concealing patches of black ice.
“Bono,” Edge said to me in a soft voice, either to veil what he wanted to say from the others or because he wanted to be empathetic. “Maybe we should just pull over. It’s not safe to keep driving in this. We can’t see the roads at all and the bus is getting tired as I’m sure you are.”
He was right, as usual. The Edge-always the voice of suggestion. Feeling low of myself, regretting my rash decision immediately the moment I saw my three mates and their worried faces, I was about ready to call it quits and take Edge’s advice. There was no possible way we could continue through with the weather being so hellish.
That is, until Adam perked up, standing to his feet and yelling excitingly, “Look, lads, lights! Is that a driveway?”
Larry and Edge were at his side in a flash, squeezing their heads together to get a better sight out the window. I slowed down even more to a measly ten miles per hour just in case there really was a house nearby. My heart thudded with anticipation, impatiently waiting for their confirmation.
“Is there a house?” Questioned Edge. “Are you sure those are lights, Adam?”
“I’m bloody sure! Why do you think I’ve been keeping my eyes open out the same window for the last God knows how many hours?”
“Ok, ok, but I just want to make sure it’s a house and not a lamp to a pond or something.”
“Who cares, just pull into it.” Larry demanded, scuffing.
For the first time that night, I took Larry’s advice and turned left into the long, winding driveway. Just past the snowflakes on the window, we all broke into cheers of happiness and hoots and hollers upon approaching a very large, two story house. Larry, Adam and Edge were exchanging hugs and lighting cigarettes to celebrate our founding of refuge. Inching closer, we saw that the porch was covered up to the rail with white powder. Turning off the bus, I sat back in the driver’s seat and let out a much awaited sigh of relief.
“Alright, let’s go knock!” Larry proclaimed, grabbing his duffel bag.
I stopped him at once. Larry could be so eager sometimes. “You wanker, it’s three in the morning. It’s rude.”
“This is a crisis!” Larry practically shrieked, throwing his bag over his fit shoulders. Suddenly, his mood changed and he grinned slyly.“Besides, I’m sure a fourteen year old girl lives here and once she sees you she will become your slave.”
“I’m dying of humor.”
Edge grunted. No doubt he’s at his brink of irritation with the two of us. “Come on, mates. Relax. Bono, Larry is right, I’m afraid. We can’t stay in the bus all night. Eventually the battery is going to die because of the cold. And if we sleep in here we’re all going to get ill. I’m sure whoever lives here will understand our situation and we can offer them money to let us stay.”
He had me convinced. There was no other choice. Either we risked waking up strangers in the wee hours of the A.M. or we freeze our arses off in a nearly-broke down bus. Personally, I choose the former. “Alright. Get your stuff, mates.”
In a hurry, the four of us collected only our much needed luggage. All we really required was a change of clothes and toiletries until morning. Adam did grab his bass and Edge his acoustic Washburn and electric Gibson Les Paul. Extremely cold weather such as this is not helpful on instruments.
Piling off the bus one by one, Larry anxiously lead the way, fighting through knee-high snow. Wrapping my leather coat tighter around my waist, the four of us were shivering all at once, the breeze so crisp and bitter that it stung through right to the bone. It seemed as though it took days to reach the porch, our trousers soaked and hair frozen. With clattering teeth, Larry and I were in the front of the door with Adam and Edge behind us, jumping in place to stay Edge and I inhaled our cigarettes to try and stay warm. By the way, it is a myth that cigarettes heat the body. If anything, I was getting colder and colder by the second.
“You ring first, Larry punched me in the arm, his voice quivering.“This whole thing was your brilliant idea!”
“I don’t want to ring! You ring!” I shot back, giving Larry’s shoulder a good blow in response.
Edge shoved himself between us with a grunt. “Good God, you’re both impossible.”
Edge rang the doorbell and, practically straight away, a light switched on from the first floor. Waiting impatiently yet respectfully, we trembled from the piercing winter wind, our bodies coated with snow. Finally, the blue door of the large house opened and standing before us was a young girl dressed in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a black, long sleeved shirt. Thankfully we didn’t awake her, or so I gathered, her hair still stylishly made and face painted with skillfully applied makeup. Stretching my lips into a smile, I cleared my throat after a long minutes silence. I’m more than certain that she was fully aware of who was at her door.
“Hi, I’m Paul Hewson and these are my mates. I’m terribly sorry about the late hour, but our bus,” I pointed to the beat up vehicle in the driveway, “broke down in your drive and we were wondering if we could rent out a room.”
Speechless, the girl didn’t mutter a word, staring unbelievably at us, her eyes wide and mouth faintly ajar. Another light from upstairs switched on, as did a large chandelier in the open foyer, bringing the house to life. A woman in a white robe trotted down the stairs, a man following closely behind.
The woman set her hands on the young girls shoulders, pushing her aside. “Who is it, Jessie, dear? Oh,” She gasped at us. “Hello there. Can I help you?”
“Uh, yes, I’m sorry that it’s so late. I was just explaining to your…daughter?” I asked.
“Yes,” The woman nodded.
“I was explaining to your daughter that our bus broke down in your driveway. I understand that your house isn’t a hotel but we really need a place to stay. Oh, how rude of me, this is Larry, Edge, Adam and I’m Bono.”
Reaching my hand out to shake their hands, Jessie, like a statue of rock, fell sideways, hitting the ground with a loud thud. Edge, Adam and Larry all pushed against me to try and help, the three, including myself, shocked and concerned. Now they defiantly wouldn’t let us stay here. Not when we made their poor daughter faint at the mere sight of us. It’s not as though we hadn’t caused other females to faint, however, circumstances as of now were slightly different than that of a concert.
“Oh, my God!” Her mother kneeled to the floor. “Sorry, she’s a big fan.” She looked up and smiled, amused, obviously, by the reaction of her offspring whom was out cold on the wooden floor. “Would you mind helping me? Alan has a bad back and shouldn’t be lifting anything over seventy pounds.”
I inferred that Alan was the guy standing at the stairway, arms at his side and face resembling his daughters only seconds before she passed out.
“Oh, yes, yes, of course.” Shuffling my bag towards Edge, I was on my knees quickly, shoving my arms under the girls fragile shoulders and legs, picking her up with ease. “It’s quite alright. I think we startled her. Where should I put her?”
“Follow me into the living room. On the couch right there.” She answered, pointing to a room off the corner of the main foyer. “And please, gentleman, come on in before you catch a cold.”
I could practically hear my band mates smile, the sound of the door being closed and shoes squeaking on the floor. The woman indicated to them to place their shoes near the stairway so that they didn’t slip and fall. Thank God they were a nice family! I was so worried that we would get turned down or that the family would be stuck up. Then again, this wasn’t the olden days. People were hard to trust anymore whether they were of fame or not.
Meanwhile, the girl in my arms remained lifeless aside from her steady breathing. She had gained some color back to her face, her cheeks blushing with a soft graze of magenta. Although I couldn’t see her eyes, she had lovely long lashes and shapely eyebrows, her lips pouty and naturally pink.
Truthfully, she was very pretty. I would say beautiful if it didn’t make me feel as though I was being a complete pervert. I had to have been at least twice her senior.
The living room was very cozy and had a nice, familiar family orientated aura. The couch was of brown plush, the floors hardwood and the end tables and main table cherry wood with a glossy finish. There was fireplace on the far left and the smell of burnt ashes still lingered. On the wall behind me was a bookshelf holding family photos and next to that an entertainment center in the same cherry oak as the rest of the wooden furniture.
Gently laying the girl down on the sofa, I looked about the living room one last time: at the love seat in the left corner, the recliner next to the brick fireplace and at the two lamps turned off on the end tables between the pattern of furniture. Lastly, before joining my mates in the kitchen which connected to the living room, I took one last glance at the girl on the couch, her body limp and hair of almond.
Once in the kitchen, I removed my shoes and threw them with another pile of footwear near, what I’m guessing, the basement door. Growing up, my small circle of friends never failed to remind me how quickly I can adjust to other folks homes. And now, with touring all over the world and sleeping in countless amounts of strange hotel beds, that comfort had only grown.
“I’m Lynn,” the woman said, shaking my hand and smiling. Pointing to the man next to her, she then introduce, “Alan, my husband, and that,” she motioned to unconscious girl across the way, “is Jessie. No need to introduce yourselves once again, I’m fully aware of who you are.” As she said our names, we kissed the back of her hand. “Adam Clayton, Larry Mullen Jr., The Edge and, of course, the infamous Bono. As I said, my daughter is a big fan of yours. She actually has tickets to the Richfield show but from the look of things, none of you might not make it. You boys looked chilled. Would you care for some tea? Coffee?”
“Yeah, that would be wonderful, actually.” Larry thanked Lynn and she winked toward him. She was truly a charming woman, slightly curvy, her hair the same color as her daughters and skin just as fair. Alan remained in the background, not saying a word. Not that it made me uncomfortable, I was just trying to figure out if he was angry, tired or still in shock.
Sometimes…I really hate being famous.
“I’m terribly sorry about my daughter. I’ve never seen her faint before.” Lynn remarked while preparing both a pot of tea on the black stove and coffee in big coffee maker.
“We should be the ones apologizing.” Edge said. “Showing up at your house like this and putting your daughter in a temporary coma. It’s downright rude.”
Lynn flung her hand to the side, “Oh, now, don’t sound so discouraged. She’ll come back sooner or later. Trust me,” She grinned. “Once the coffee is made she’ll be right up. It’s the easiest way to wake her, ya know. Unlike other eighteen year old girls, I don’t have to drag her ass out of bed or pour cold water on her face. All I have to do is brew some coffee and she’s downstairs in a flash.”
We laughed and I sneaked a look at my mates, trying to sort out their expressions. Adam, as usual, was very calm, Larry hung on to every word Lynn said, he probably saw her as a saint. And Edge was fidgeting with his fingers, appearing somewhat…worried? Perhaps I was looking too much into it, I concluded.
“You boys can sit down,” Lynn told us. “Don’t be shy. We don’t bite. Once we get something hot in your bellies Alan will show you to your rooms.”
Alan nodded, his built large and buff. He had to have been in the Army of some sort. Only Army men had that straight of posture. Alan was handsome fellow with salt and pepper grey hair and neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His structure, on the other hand, scared the shite out of me. The block was very burly and tall.
For the first time he spoke, his voice surprisingly sweet and soft. “Of course. You will just have to give us a half hour or so to set everything up. Actually, before this goes any further, what exactly happened?”
We chuckled together and three pairs of eyes trailed over to where I now sat at the kitchen counter on a stool. I went on to explain about me giving the driver a few days off, of the long drive from Canada to Ohio, the bus running out of gas just as we pulled into the driveway. Lynn and Alan listened attentively, Adam, Larry and Edge interrupting here or there, commenting mostly on the fact that I was a plonker for even thinking we could have pulled this off ourselves.
Once we were done with our tale and our bellies warm with our hot drink of choice, Alan was grinning ear to ear and laughing hysterically. “I have to say, Bono, you’ve got some hardness to you! If I was as known as you are I wouldn’t go anywhere without bodyguards or a personal driver.”
Lynn smacked her husband’s arm and flashed us a bashful smile. “Forgive my husband, he can be a bit outspoken at times. Alan, dear, they were doing a good deed. You guys are obviously very down to earth, if you ask me. Taking control of your own tour bus shows integrity.”
Edge raised his eyebrows and thanked Lynn sincerely, the rest of us following suit. It really was a nice compliment, especially after all the crap that my friends had been pushing on me for the last nineteen hours.
“I wasn’t trying to sound disrespectful in any means, guys,” Alan added, still laughing. “With that aside, we have to figure out the rooming situation. We have a guest suite upstairs and one downstairs next to the dining room right over there.” He pointed to another large room behind them. “The den, which is on your left when you first walk into the foyer, is probably the biggest room in the house aside from the master bedroom and it has a pull out bed. We have a blow up mattress that can fit in the den. So pretty much two of you will have a room and two of you will have to bunk together.”
“Nothing unusual for us,” Adam chuckled. “In fact, Larry and I can share the den. Bono and Edge dread sharing a room with anyone.”
“Ah, well, now that it’s settled, would you like some more to drink?” Lynn asked and four mugs were practically thrown in her face.
“Uh…Lynn,” I scratched the back of my head. “Where are we exactly? Are we in Richfield?”
She giggled, pouring me another cup of coffee while she spoke. “No, dear, you’re in Ashtabula County. Which is kind of close to Richfield. You’re heading for Summit County and Summit is about two counties away.”
“Aye…well, I guess it doesn’t make much of a difference now. Looks like we’re stuck, eh?”
She nodded and the room filled with laughter.
Though I was beyond exhausted and worried about what tomorrow may bring, my mates and I stayed up with Lynn, talking about the weather and silly things while Alan went to work setting up the guest rooms. The house was so pleasant, as well as the people in it, that I knew for sure that we would have a homely stay, thank God. I could barely wait to slip into a snug, warm, made bed that didn’t involve scratchy sheets or flat pillows.
While Larry, Adam and myself spoke with Lynn, Edge suddenly chirped a very friendly, “Hello, there.” Turning to look at what, or whom, he was speaking, Jessica stood right before him while rubbing a spot on the back of her head. Edge smiled a boyish grin and he offered her his hand. She questioned him with her eyes, most likely trying to determine if she was still unconscious or not.
Then she reached out a shaky hand, enveloping her fingers around his. “Hello, Jessica, I’m Edge. It’s very nice to meet you.”
She crossed her brows at him and failed at an attempt to smile. I had to admit, she was quite amusing. At least she wasn’t screaming and attacking us like so many other female fans. Actually, she was very adult about the whole thing and one by one, Adam and Larry introduced themselves, even though she knew quite well who we were. Still, it was only polite, especially if you’re in someone else’s house.
Having been the furthest away, I was last in line to take her hand. Our eyes met, blue to brown and she bit the corner of her lower lip when our hands met. A shiver echoed over my skin. From the cold, of course. Right?
Yes, from the cold.
She was shaking profusely, her face whitening once again. And I don’t know if it was just me, but the room was so deafening quiet. Sooner or later one of us had to speak up. If not, this is just going to get very awkward. What in the bloody hell was the matter with me? I meet thousands upon thousands of people every day. I bring strangers up on stage and slow dance with them before millions. And now, in this very instant, in a private home with only three strangers, I couldn’t even utter a single word.
Something in those eyes. Yes, there was something about those deep pools of brown honey that drew me into an alternate universe.
Snap out of it! Say something!
“Feeling better, Jessica?” I managed, my own throat tight and tongue dry. Her face now alabaster, I knew she what was to occur next. Her hand slipped out of mine and in one swift motion, before any of could react…
THUMP!
“She fainted again,” I laughed, kneeling on the ground for the second time that night.
Eh? Is it reaching the Adrifters expectations?
thank you, dear!
Yes yes...just like the flashback in Adrift. 
Looking good so far. Looking forward to reading more.
Totally had to change that up...
I'm so glad you're enjoying this! And I'm also glad that the flashbacks are "coming to life" so to speak. It's quite a challenge. 
I promise I will get more up soon. Don't forget about me, please!
