GraceRyan
Rock n' Roll Doggie FOB
This is a very short chapter. I might be posting shorter chapters so they don't stagnate too much. Some mild swearing. This is all Gloria.
Half way across the Atlantic Ocean, Gloria finally ran out of tears. Thanks to the band, she had been upgraded to first class. She buried her head under the cotton blanket and just let the tears flow. She avoided the concerned glances from the flight attendants. The hole in her center grew bigger with each mile she withdrew from him. She cursed herself for falling this hard. It’s not like she didn’t know how this would go. It’s not like she hadn’t been here before. She was older and smarter - and that’s what pissed her off. Why did he affect her so?
She pulled herself together by the time the plane landed. Her eyes were still a bit puffy, but she would blame lack of sleep on that. New York was her home, but the buildings looked so cold and cruel as the plane approached the sprawling city. She went directly to the office from the airport. Leaving her luggage with the security guard, she leaned in the corner of the elevator. The office air felt stifling. She hated that everything just seemed sour now. It had been a long time since she felt this crushing pressure on her chest. When was that? Oh, when she left Larry. A Muzak version of “Sometimes You Can’t Make It on You Own” piped over the elevator speaker. Very funny, karma. U2 had a way of crawling under your skin and leaving a scar.
She should have felt some comfort as she walked through the office doors. The assistants and associates all stopped to chat with her or hug her. Everyone missed her, and that warmed her. It was beginning to feel more like home. Andrew sat in his large corner office lined with flat screen TVs. Each one played a different entertainment or news channel. Gloria’s office was very similar but on the other side of the floor.
“Sis!” he called when he saw her lurking in his doorway. His smile faded a bit. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks. It’s super swell seeing you too,” she plopped down in a leather chair across from him. “You should know what touring with 4 Irish men does to you.”
“Adam’s English,” Andrew corrected her.
“Okay, 3 Irish men....and even though Edge is Welsh, he drinks like an Irishman,” she countered.
“How was it?” Andrew asked. “Reviews were great. Bono’s back didn’t seem to be an issue. He’s better than ever.”
Gloria used some kind of zen mind control to stop herself from blushing. Why yes, Andrew. Bono IS better than ever, she thought to herself. “He had a few days with pain. Especially after a show in the rain. But everyone ached after those.”
“Looks like this new tour - including into 2011 is shaping up,” he mused. “Are we okay over Australia?”
She sighed. “Yes. We are now. I’m still annoyed but. It’s still family.”
“Jane was really leaning on me to stay,” he said.
“How are the boys?” she asked.
His face beamed like a proud papa. “THey are great. It’s amazing how much their individual personalities come out - even at 2 months old. You will come by to see them?”
“Of course. But not tonight if that’s okay. It’s been 2 months of long days and longer nights.” She stretched. “I’m looking forward to seeing my apartment again. I’m sure it will look weird to me.”
“I have a feeling my touring days are done,” Andrew said with a hint of sadness.
“Will you miss it?”
“A little bit. I will miss touring with them. But you’ve become their gal lately. Even if I wanted to go back on tour, they wouldn’t want me.” he said sheepishly. “Paul started talking about 2011.”
“I’d like to have some input on that, if you don’t mind,” she stood. “OKay, I’m heading to my office. I am afraid to see the pile that’s in there.”
“We almost sent a text photo of it for you, but we were afraid you wouldn’t come back,” Andrew joked.
“Trust me, I almost didn’t,” and with a smile she wandered down the hall to her office.
With the exception of piles of files at the center of desk, it looked exactly the same as she left it. Her old pair of running shoes peeked out from under the well worn leather couch against one wall opposite of her flat screen TVs which were now dark. Someone had tended to the plants in her windows. They actually looked better than before she left. The walls were covered with framed photos of her with many famous bands and people. At the center, the largest photo contained her and the four members of U2. It was during the Elevation tour. She never really looked at the photo before. They sat at a bar or restaurant. Everyone was looking at the camera, except Bono. He was looking at her. Maybe it was recent events that made her think this, but was that a look of complete love in his eyes? She stared at that photo trying to decipher what was on his mind that day. Had he really felt this way all along? If so, he had to suffer through her many relationships - all failed ones. She tore her eyes away, and settled behind her desk. It was no time to be considering what was going through Bono’s mind almost 10 years ago. Or what was going on now?
Her chair twisted towards the window. Somewhere in the city was Ali and the boys. She was waiting for her husband to come home to her. And soon, they would all be in this city together. Gloria hoped the city would be big enough for all of them.
Around 8 o’clock, Gloria closed the last file on her first pile of paperwork. Every part of her ached. Her throat was sore from returning phone calls. She had not left her office since she walked in the door. On her desk sat that half eaten sandwich that was her dinner.
Vera, her assistant, stopped at her door. “I’m heading out if you don’t mind.”
“Dear gods no. You should have left hours ago,” she rubbed her eyes.
“Eh, I didn’t work as late as I could the last few months,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind, Andrew and I took the liberty of stocking your house with some basics so you wouldn’t return to an empty fridge or kitchen.”
“Thanks so much, Vera,” she was so tired that she thought she might cry at a simple kind gesture.
“It’s my pleasure. It’s nice to have you back,” with a wave, Vera was gone.
The office was mostly empty. There were a few interns and assistants still burning the midnight oil in hopes of getting a big break or impressing Andrew or Gloria. She stared at her doorway and imagined him bustling through the door panting from running up all 30 flights of stairs. He took a plane after her. He couldn’t live without her. He would gather her in his arms and tell the world that she was his girl.
Gloria closed her eyes tightly. She was starting to go crazy. He wasn’t there. And there had been no phone calls, texts or emails. That was good. As his publicist, she would kill him for doing anything like that. Everyone learned a valuable lesson the Tiger Woods debacle.
She threw in the towel. Her working day was done. It was time to face her lonely apartment. Collecting her luggage from security, she loaded into a taxi. The city blurred before her eyes. It was nine o’clock. She did the math. Bono would be asleep by now - maybe. Perhaps he was sitting at a local saturating himself. With the help of her doorman, she wheeled all her bags into her apartment on the Upper West Side. It was originally Andrew’s apartment, but when he married Jane and needed a bigger place for kids, he gave it to Gloria. Her home looked so foreign to her. Andrew and Vera must have tidied the place too. Her recollection of her leaving was throwing clothes from one end of the apartment to the other in preparation for a 2 month tour. In her bedroom, her bed had been made. She knew for certain it was not when she left. It was quiet. Too quiet. Her life was filled with noise and laughter. She rarely had a moment to herself, especially once she and Bono came together. Now, everything was still. In the distance, she heard sirens and some car horns. Moving through her living room, she opened the sliding door to the terrace to let some cool fall air into her stale space. She was disconnected from this place. That tiny 3 floor flat in France was more home to her. She knew it would take a few days to get back into the swing. Some tours, it could take weeks to feel settled. To ease the silence, she turned her TV on. The news would be on. Hopefully murder and mayhem in New York City would distract her loneliness. She laughed out loud to no one when a commercial for ‘Spiderman; Turn Off the Dark’ came on.
Next chapter.....how is Bono faring?
Half way across the Atlantic Ocean, Gloria finally ran out of tears. Thanks to the band, she had been upgraded to first class. She buried her head under the cotton blanket and just let the tears flow. She avoided the concerned glances from the flight attendants. The hole in her center grew bigger with each mile she withdrew from him. She cursed herself for falling this hard. It’s not like she didn’t know how this would go. It’s not like she hadn’t been here before. She was older and smarter - and that’s what pissed her off. Why did he affect her so?
She pulled herself together by the time the plane landed. Her eyes were still a bit puffy, but she would blame lack of sleep on that. New York was her home, but the buildings looked so cold and cruel as the plane approached the sprawling city. She went directly to the office from the airport. Leaving her luggage with the security guard, she leaned in the corner of the elevator. The office air felt stifling. She hated that everything just seemed sour now. It had been a long time since she felt this crushing pressure on her chest. When was that? Oh, when she left Larry. A Muzak version of “Sometimes You Can’t Make It on You Own” piped over the elevator speaker. Very funny, karma. U2 had a way of crawling under your skin and leaving a scar.
She should have felt some comfort as she walked through the office doors. The assistants and associates all stopped to chat with her or hug her. Everyone missed her, and that warmed her. It was beginning to feel more like home. Andrew sat in his large corner office lined with flat screen TVs. Each one played a different entertainment or news channel. Gloria’s office was very similar but on the other side of the floor.
“Sis!” he called when he saw her lurking in his doorway. His smile faded a bit. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks. It’s super swell seeing you too,” she plopped down in a leather chair across from him. “You should know what touring with 4 Irish men does to you.”
“Adam’s English,” Andrew corrected her.
“Okay, 3 Irish men....and even though Edge is Welsh, he drinks like an Irishman,” she countered.
“How was it?” Andrew asked. “Reviews were great. Bono’s back didn’t seem to be an issue. He’s better than ever.”
Gloria used some kind of zen mind control to stop herself from blushing. Why yes, Andrew. Bono IS better than ever, she thought to herself. “He had a few days with pain. Especially after a show in the rain. But everyone ached after those.”
“Looks like this new tour - including into 2011 is shaping up,” he mused. “Are we okay over Australia?”
She sighed. “Yes. We are now. I’m still annoyed but. It’s still family.”
“Jane was really leaning on me to stay,” he said.
“How are the boys?” she asked.
His face beamed like a proud papa. “THey are great. It’s amazing how much their individual personalities come out - even at 2 months old. You will come by to see them?”
“Of course. But not tonight if that’s okay. It’s been 2 months of long days and longer nights.” She stretched. “I’m looking forward to seeing my apartment again. I’m sure it will look weird to me.”
“I have a feeling my touring days are done,” Andrew said with a hint of sadness.
“Will you miss it?”
“A little bit. I will miss touring with them. But you’ve become their gal lately. Even if I wanted to go back on tour, they wouldn’t want me.” he said sheepishly. “Paul started talking about 2011.”
“I’d like to have some input on that, if you don’t mind,” she stood. “OKay, I’m heading to my office. I am afraid to see the pile that’s in there.”
“We almost sent a text photo of it for you, but we were afraid you wouldn’t come back,” Andrew joked.
“Trust me, I almost didn’t,” and with a smile she wandered down the hall to her office.
With the exception of piles of files at the center of desk, it looked exactly the same as she left it. Her old pair of running shoes peeked out from under the well worn leather couch against one wall opposite of her flat screen TVs which were now dark. Someone had tended to the plants in her windows. They actually looked better than before she left. The walls were covered with framed photos of her with many famous bands and people. At the center, the largest photo contained her and the four members of U2. It was during the Elevation tour. She never really looked at the photo before. They sat at a bar or restaurant. Everyone was looking at the camera, except Bono. He was looking at her. Maybe it was recent events that made her think this, but was that a look of complete love in his eyes? She stared at that photo trying to decipher what was on his mind that day. Had he really felt this way all along? If so, he had to suffer through her many relationships - all failed ones. She tore her eyes away, and settled behind her desk. It was no time to be considering what was going through Bono’s mind almost 10 years ago. Or what was going on now?
Her chair twisted towards the window. Somewhere in the city was Ali and the boys. She was waiting for her husband to come home to her. And soon, they would all be in this city together. Gloria hoped the city would be big enough for all of them.
Around 8 o’clock, Gloria closed the last file on her first pile of paperwork. Every part of her ached. Her throat was sore from returning phone calls. She had not left her office since she walked in the door. On her desk sat that half eaten sandwich that was her dinner.
Vera, her assistant, stopped at her door. “I’m heading out if you don’t mind.”
“Dear gods no. You should have left hours ago,” she rubbed her eyes.
“Eh, I didn’t work as late as I could the last few months,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind, Andrew and I took the liberty of stocking your house with some basics so you wouldn’t return to an empty fridge or kitchen.”
“Thanks so much, Vera,” she was so tired that she thought she might cry at a simple kind gesture.
“It’s my pleasure. It’s nice to have you back,” with a wave, Vera was gone.
The office was mostly empty. There were a few interns and assistants still burning the midnight oil in hopes of getting a big break or impressing Andrew or Gloria. She stared at her doorway and imagined him bustling through the door panting from running up all 30 flights of stairs. He took a plane after her. He couldn’t live without her. He would gather her in his arms and tell the world that she was his girl.
Gloria closed her eyes tightly. She was starting to go crazy. He wasn’t there. And there had been no phone calls, texts or emails. That was good. As his publicist, she would kill him for doing anything like that. Everyone learned a valuable lesson the Tiger Woods debacle.
She threw in the towel. Her working day was done. It was time to face her lonely apartment. Collecting her luggage from security, she loaded into a taxi. The city blurred before her eyes. It was nine o’clock. She did the math. Bono would be asleep by now - maybe. Perhaps he was sitting at a local saturating himself. With the help of her doorman, she wheeled all her bags into her apartment on the Upper West Side. It was originally Andrew’s apartment, but when he married Jane and needed a bigger place for kids, he gave it to Gloria. Her home looked so foreign to her. Andrew and Vera must have tidied the place too. Her recollection of her leaving was throwing clothes from one end of the apartment to the other in preparation for a 2 month tour. In her bedroom, her bed had been made. She knew for certain it was not when she left. It was quiet. Too quiet. Her life was filled with noise and laughter. She rarely had a moment to herself, especially once she and Bono came together. Now, everything was still. In the distance, she heard sirens and some car horns. Moving through her living room, she opened the sliding door to the terrace to let some cool fall air into her stale space. She was disconnected from this place. That tiny 3 floor flat in France was more home to her. She knew it would take a few days to get back into the swing. Some tours, it could take weeks to feel settled. To ease the silence, she turned her TV on. The news would be on. Hopefully murder and mayhem in New York City would distract her loneliness. She laughed out loud to no one when a commercial for ‘Spiderman; Turn Off the Dark’ came on.
Next chapter.....how is Bono faring?
I wonder how Bono is doing...
)
