GraceRyan
Rock n' Roll Doggie FOB
Another shortish chapter. Parts of it are PM or email. What can I say? There was a photo on Misc Pictures that....inspired me. There are some cuss words, bit over all fairly PG. I only own the wild thoughts that escape.
October was particularly raw and dismal in Dublin. He didn’t have Gloria’s warmth to keep him warm. Just her presence would lift the clouds. The day she left, he wandered aimlessly in his house trying to clean. It would be awhile before he’d be back. He worked on setting his mind to the task at hand. He and the boys would be heading to studio in Dublin to figure out what the next step was. What album comes first? They had to look at what they had and make some kind of decision. It was an argument he wasn’t in the mood to wage. Usually, Bono was the one in the middle of the room holding fast to his artistic ideals - ready to ram them down any naysayers’ throat. Right now, Adam could come to him with an opera album idea and he’d agree.
His home in Dublin offered him no comfort either. Every corner was a reminder of his betrayal. He felt guilty for missing Gloria so much. He couldn’t help it though. He tried to tell himself that it had be over. He had Ali and the kids to think about. That only darkened his mood more. He then convinced himself that he could live through this - he would be with Gloria again. The emptiness would be filled with shame and confusion. He knew things couldn’t continue as they did. It would eat a hole in him. Running from his home, he pulled an Edge and hid out in the studio.
The cold rain slammed into the windows. Bono glared at the dry erase board. There were three large columns and one stuffed in at the end. In a different color of marker at the top were ‘Songs of Ascent’, boogie album, balls out rock and Spidey. Each column had song titles scrawled in Bono’s writing underneath. Larry rolled his eyes as he looked at the ceiling. He wished they would just make a decision. Everyone was feeling a little bitter about the lack of commercial success of No Line on the Horizon. Yes, it was ambitious and deep. And no, the listening public were not in a heavy mood. Maybe it was timing. World economics had collapsed and people wanted to be happy. Now, Bono especially, wanted to hear his music on the fucking radio. If he had to hear yet another pre-teen whine over his airwaves. They had tons of music - much of it above average. The fans were eager for the companion to the last album. But it was even more moody and etheriel. Larry was barely on board with the dance album. But the songs were good, so he decided to hold his judgement. Edge was particularly excited about the full on rock album. After spending time with Green Day and Jack White, he was ready to make his guitar wail.
“Can we just erase the last one?” Larry asked.
Spiderman musical, he scoffed. What were they thinking? It was fine when Bono and Edge dallied with the concept on their own time. But now when they should be working on one of these damn albums, Bono and Edge were off in New York playing around like Andrew Lloyd Webber. And now Bono was trying to talk him into recording the score as a band. Had he lost his bleeding mind?
Bono glowered at Larry. “Stop it, Lardence. Would it kill you think out of the box?”
“The opera box?” Larry cracked.
“Can we ignore the last column for the moment?” Adam stepped between them. “You and Edge are still working on it and it’s not the time to record anything.”
Bono moved across the room. Normally he could take Larry’s teasing, but he was a nerve ending himself. He was counting the hours until he could board a plane to New York. And even when back in NY, he had to stay away from Gloria. He couldn’t rush to her apartment and hold her all night. He had to rejoin his family first, then sort out the rest.
They discussed different ways to release music. Some bands were using the internet solely. Larry and Adam liked the idea of having something physical to buy and hold in their hands. Bono and Edge knew they had to be innovative. Sometime around midnight, the band gave up and went to a friend’s pub. After a few pints, the harmony returned. The tall tales rolled out and raucous laughter could be heard around the corner. As the night surrendered to the pinking break of day, Bono and Edge stumbled to Edge’s empty house with their arms around one another. Bono banged around his kitchen to drunkenly make his famous fried eggs. Hungry and with a fast approaching hangover, they settled for toast and milk before passing out in various rooms.
Twenty-four later, Bono secured his lap belt on his flight to New York. He was a jumble of emotions - each fighting to be the prevailing thought. He was sick to his stomach and he knew it had nothing to do with the second night of partying with Edge and Larry. Three days ago, he finally broke down and called Gloria. She had answered the phone with a warmth in her voice. He asked about her flight, about work. They talked about the musical and some of the public relations planned. They were careful to avoid discussing them or the last few weeks. There was a pause on his end and finally said, “I miss you.” From the other end, he heard her voice crack as she replied, “I really miss you.”
In about 8 hours, he would be home with Ali. He was excited to see the boys. He did miss them terribly. And somewhere, he did miss Ali - even if he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was he missed. Gloria had filled a void he felt while on tour. Would Ali be able to fill that space again?
After some flirting with the young flight attendant, he had not only an extra pillow, but a glass of whiskey. After his drink, he reclined his leather seat with his iPod. As he closed his eyes, a live version of ‘Until the End of World’ played. He was instantly pulled back in time to the night he first touched Gloria.
He led her by the hand into his bedroom. Her eyes were wide at the vastness of his bed piled high with plush pillows. With a smile, he pulled her into his arms crushing her body against his. He kissed her hungrily. He felt impatient to feel her. It had been months since she joined the tour. Even on that first night in Miami, he felt that flush of desire course through his body. She emerged backstage with Andrew not the shy girl of 16 she was years before.
However now in his hands, she was shy. Her mind raced as his lips traveled across her cheeks and down her neck. She held onto him tightly for fear she’d crumble to the floor otherwise.
“Touch me,” he breathed in her ear. “I want to feel your hands on me.”
She bit her lip as she slipped his shirt over his head. In awe, she stared at him for a moment. He laughed softly. Blushing, she touched his shoulders and ran her fingers across the hairs on his chest and stomach. They rested at his waistband, teasing as they slipped just underneath. A small moan escaped from his throat. In one swift move, he pulled the faded Depeche Mode t-shirt over her head. She shuddered as his hands slipped around her stomach to her back.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
She could only nod. Her stomach was in knots. Never did she imagine she would be standing in various stages of undress in Bono’s palatial suite.
“Do you want to continue?” He looked at her directly.
“Oh yes,” she kissed him.
There was a burning in his gut and he tried not to shake. That feeling was scary to him. He held her until she drifted off to sleep. He watched the rise and fall of her chest as he wrapped around her. He had crossed that line and betrayed his marriage. He did the one thing he promised Ali he wouldn;t do. And he did it without a second thought. Burying his face in the young girl’s neck, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time.
News of the a final approach woke Bono. Those memories were so vivid to him. He fell in love that night, if he wasn’t already before. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but that burning he felt was love.
“Sir” a blushing attendant peered down at the groggy rock star. “Please move your seat to the upright position.”
“Oh, sure, love,” his voice was raspy. His fuzzy hair shot up all over his head. Thankfully, he packed his olive cap. His eyes turned to the approaching city. Somewhere on those streets or in a building, Gloria was out there. And so was Ali who he would see in a few hours time. A pang of guilt hit him that he relived the night he first made love to Gloria. That night would open a door he never fully closed. Even after she walked away. She was branded on his soul forever.
His fingers dug deep into his eye sockets. He needed to put her out of his head for a few days. Right now, his duty was to rejoin his family. There was something to salvage, he thought. At least he had to try. For the kids. For the life he and Ali tried hard to hold together.
“Hello?” Bono called as he walked into his apartment. Silence. Not even a television. The doorman deposited his bags in his foyer. Peeling of a few 20’s, the doorman thanked him profusely as he backed out of the door. “Hello?” Nothing.
His triumphant return home met by no one. He moved to kitchen for a note. Scrawled on the back of an envelope was Ali’s handwriting ‘picking up the boys. Getting dinner on the way home - hope you want Italian, love A’. He made a face. It was a chilly note. He felt like he had broken into someone else’s home as he looked around. Ali had rearranged the living room again. He swore the kitchen was a different color. Bono was never consulted on these things. It was perfectly normal to come home to new furniture, electronics and rooms. He moved his things to the bedroom. His stomach turned as he looked at their bed. Gloria’s skin flashed in his mind. How did he do this before? Was he just a pompous ass to think he was man enough for tow women? Was he this tortured back then? If so, he managed to block that memory. He wanted to see her. In his mind, he gave himself a window of three days maybe four before he would attempt to see her. Edge would be coming in tomorrow and tey would be attending dress rehearsals. Since Gloria was handling the press on that so being in contact with her would be normal.
“Hello?” he heard his wife call. Taking a cleansing breath, he went to greet Ali.
In Chapter 19, he finally goes to see Gloria.
October was particularly raw and dismal in Dublin. He didn’t have Gloria’s warmth to keep him warm. Just her presence would lift the clouds. The day she left, he wandered aimlessly in his house trying to clean. It would be awhile before he’d be back. He worked on setting his mind to the task at hand. He and the boys would be heading to studio in Dublin to figure out what the next step was. What album comes first? They had to look at what they had and make some kind of decision. It was an argument he wasn’t in the mood to wage. Usually, Bono was the one in the middle of the room holding fast to his artistic ideals - ready to ram them down any naysayers’ throat. Right now, Adam could come to him with an opera album idea and he’d agree.
His home in Dublin offered him no comfort either. Every corner was a reminder of his betrayal. He felt guilty for missing Gloria so much. He couldn’t help it though. He tried to tell himself that it had be over. He had Ali and the kids to think about. That only darkened his mood more. He then convinced himself that he could live through this - he would be with Gloria again. The emptiness would be filled with shame and confusion. He knew things couldn’t continue as they did. It would eat a hole in him. Running from his home, he pulled an Edge and hid out in the studio.
The cold rain slammed into the windows. Bono glared at the dry erase board. There were three large columns and one stuffed in at the end. In a different color of marker at the top were ‘Songs of Ascent’, boogie album, balls out rock and Spidey. Each column had song titles scrawled in Bono’s writing underneath. Larry rolled his eyes as he looked at the ceiling. He wished they would just make a decision. Everyone was feeling a little bitter about the lack of commercial success of No Line on the Horizon. Yes, it was ambitious and deep. And no, the listening public were not in a heavy mood. Maybe it was timing. World economics had collapsed and people wanted to be happy. Now, Bono especially, wanted to hear his music on the fucking radio. If he had to hear yet another pre-teen whine over his airwaves. They had tons of music - much of it above average. The fans were eager for the companion to the last album. But it was even more moody and etheriel. Larry was barely on board with the dance album. But the songs were good, so he decided to hold his judgement. Edge was particularly excited about the full on rock album. After spending time with Green Day and Jack White, he was ready to make his guitar wail.
“Can we just erase the last one?” Larry asked.
Spiderman musical, he scoffed. What were they thinking? It was fine when Bono and Edge dallied with the concept on their own time. But now when they should be working on one of these damn albums, Bono and Edge were off in New York playing around like Andrew Lloyd Webber. And now Bono was trying to talk him into recording the score as a band. Had he lost his bleeding mind?
Bono glowered at Larry. “Stop it, Lardence. Would it kill you think out of the box?”
“The opera box?” Larry cracked.
“Can we ignore the last column for the moment?” Adam stepped between them. “You and Edge are still working on it and it’s not the time to record anything.”
Bono moved across the room. Normally he could take Larry’s teasing, but he was a nerve ending himself. He was counting the hours until he could board a plane to New York. And even when back in NY, he had to stay away from Gloria. He couldn’t rush to her apartment and hold her all night. He had to rejoin his family first, then sort out the rest.
They discussed different ways to release music. Some bands were using the internet solely. Larry and Adam liked the idea of having something physical to buy and hold in their hands. Bono and Edge knew they had to be innovative. Sometime around midnight, the band gave up and went to a friend’s pub. After a few pints, the harmony returned. The tall tales rolled out and raucous laughter could be heard around the corner. As the night surrendered to the pinking break of day, Bono and Edge stumbled to Edge’s empty house with their arms around one another. Bono banged around his kitchen to drunkenly make his famous fried eggs. Hungry and with a fast approaching hangover, they settled for toast and milk before passing out in various rooms.
Twenty-four later, Bono secured his lap belt on his flight to New York. He was a jumble of emotions - each fighting to be the prevailing thought. He was sick to his stomach and he knew it had nothing to do with the second night of partying with Edge and Larry. Three days ago, he finally broke down and called Gloria. She had answered the phone with a warmth in her voice. He asked about her flight, about work. They talked about the musical and some of the public relations planned. They were careful to avoid discussing them or the last few weeks. There was a pause on his end and finally said, “I miss you.” From the other end, he heard her voice crack as she replied, “I really miss you.”
In about 8 hours, he would be home with Ali. He was excited to see the boys. He did miss them terribly. And somewhere, he did miss Ali - even if he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was he missed. Gloria had filled a void he felt while on tour. Would Ali be able to fill that space again?
After some flirting with the young flight attendant, he had not only an extra pillow, but a glass of whiskey. After his drink, he reclined his leather seat with his iPod. As he closed his eyes, a live version of ‘Until the End of World’ played. He was instantly pulled back in time to the night he first touched Gloria.
He led her by the hand into his bedroom. Her eyes were wide at the vastness of his bed piled high with plush pillows. With a smile, he pulled her into his arms crushing her body against his. He kissed her hungrily. He felt impatient to feel her. It had been months since she joined the tour. Even on that first night in Miami, he felt that flush of desire course through his body. She emerged backstage with Andrew not the shy girl of 16 she was years before.
However now in his hands, she was shy. Her mind raced as his lips traveled across her cheeks and down her neck. She held onto him tightly for fear she’d crumble to the floor otherwise.
“Touch me,” he breathed in her ear. “I want to feel your hands on me.”
She bit her lip as she slipped his shirt over his head. In awe, she stared at him for a moment. He laughed softly. Blushing, she touched his shoulders and ran her fingers across the hairs on his chest and stomach. They rested at his waistband, teasing as they slipped just underneath. A small moan escaped from his throat. In one swift move, he pulled the faded Depeche Mode t-shirt over her head. She shuddered as his hands slipped around her stomach to her back.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
She could only nod. Her stomach was in knots. Never did she imagine she would be standing in various stages of undress in Bono’s palatial suite.
“Do you want to continue?” He looked at her directly.
“Oh yes,” she kissed him.
There was a burning in his gut and he tried not to shake. That feeling was scary to him. He held her until she drifted off to sleep. He watched the rise and fall of her chest as he wrapped around her. He had crossed that line and betrayed his marriage. He did the one thing he promised Ali he wouldn;t do. And he did it without a second thought. Burying his face in the young girl’s neck, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time.
News of the a final approach woke Bono. Those memories were so vivid to him. He fell in love that night, if he wasn’t already before. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but that burning he felt was love.
“Sir” a blushing attendant peered down at the groggy rock star. “Please move your seat to the upright position.”
“Oh, sure, love,” his voice was raspy. His fuzzy hair shot up all over his head. Thankfully, he packed his olive cap. His eyes turned to the approaching city. Somewhere on those streets or in a building, Gloria was out there. And so was Ali who he would see in a few hours time. A pang of guilt hit him that he relived the night he first made love to Gloria. That night would open a door he never fully closed. Even after she walked away. She was branded on his soul forever.
His fingers dug deep into his eye sockets. He needed to put her out of his head for a few days. Right now, his duty was to rejoin his family. There was something to salvage, he thought. At least he had to try. For the kids. For the life he and Ali tried hard to hold together.
“Hello?” Bono called as he walked into his apartment. Silence. Not even a television. The doorman deposited his bags in his foyer. Peeling of a few 20’s, the doorman thanked him profusely as he backed out of the door. “Hello?” Nothing.
His triumphant return home met by no one. He moved to kitchen for a note. Scrawled on the back of an envelope was Ali’s handwriting ‘picking up the boys. Getting dinner on the way home - hope you want Italian, love A’. He made a face. It was a chilly note. He felt like he had broken into someone else’s home as he looked around. Ali had rearranged the living room again. He swore the kitchen was a different color. Bono was never consulted on these things. It was perfectly normal to come home to new furniture, electronics and rooms. He moved his things to the bedroom. His stomach turned as he looked at their bed. Gloria’s skin flashed in his mind. How did he do this before? Was he just a pompous ass to think he was man enough for tow women? Was he this tortured back then? If so, he managed to block that memory. He wanted to see her. In his mind, he gave himself a window of three days maybe four before he would attempt to see her. Edge would be coming in tomorrow and tey would be attending dress rehearsals. Since Gloria was handling the press on that so being in contact with her would be normal.
“Hello?” he heard his wife call. Taking a cleansing breath, he went to greet Ali.
In Chapter 19, he finally goes to see Gloria.
I really liked it!
