BlueSilkenSky
Rock n' Roll Doggie VIP PASS
I've been thinking about posting this... it's the first fanfiction I've ever written, PLEASE be nice if you want to comment...
None of this is true.
Chapter One
“Okay, shift’s over. You know what to do from here, right?”
I nod. I’ve been at this job for quite a while- why wouldn’t I know what to do? A smile is shot my way. “Well, enjoy your night! Goodbye everybody!” And with that I am left utterly alone.
Any normal night, I wouldn’t care to be alone at the airport. But tonight… if only the shift wasn’t at night. If only it wasn’t extended. If only I didn’t have the most boring job in the world, mindlessly taking calls with nothing to distract me.
If only it hadn’t been tonight…
There’d been only two chances previously. Last time they hit Rotterdam I was out of money, in a sort of financial crisis. I don’t know what I’d done with myself, but by the time I got it sorted out they’d left Holland and were too far away to get myself to another show. Last night was Lina’s turn to go. We’d both gotten tickets for separate nights, so we could compare the changes in the set, if any. But I was forewarned just this morning…
“Hey, Marieke, you couldn’t be too troubled to take an extended shift tonight? One of our workers is going to be out of town. Yeah, I know- called at a very short notice. Could it be possible for you to take her shift? Thank you…”
And so, you see, I’d gotten myself ensnared into the trap. Not wanting to cause problems, I’d agreed- and only after hanging up the phone did I explode. Everyone at work had known about this night for weeks! Didn’t some people understand that your favorite band can be more important than your job?
Well. That line of thinking was probably what had gotten me into the crisis in the first place. I sigh and listlessly pick up the phone, which has even now been ringing. “Thank you for calling KLM Airlines, how may I help you?”
The phone girl. What a boring, boring job. I’ve never realized how tedious it could get until tonight. I wonder if Lina is enjoying herself.
Seeing U2 two nights in a row- how could that not be heaven? I’d stayed up late last night waiting for Lina to come home so she could tell me all about the concert. When she did…
“MARIEKE!” I started as the door was flung open wide and in raced a girl I barely recognized as my roommate. She’d been wearing a gray sweatshirt when she left the apartment at seven thirty, and came back at nine wearing a Zoo TV Tour shirt. I stared for a moment at the faces on her belly, wondering if I should talk to them instead of her.
Lina was beyond excited. “Oh man, girl! The concert! It was incredible, I tell you. INCREDIBLE!”
Yes, yes. I’d heard all about the insanity of Zoo TV. Never personally experienced it, y’know, but some things can’t be helped…
“What was it like?” I’d asked.
Lina’s face was shining, her eyes ablaze. “I can’t begin to describe it,” she said. “Much different from the Joshua Tree tour, let me tell you that…! Oh, god. Information overload…” She flopped across the couch on her back.
Might I have forgotten to mention that Lina has seen U2 live before?
I’d tried to listen to her recount, I truly had, but it was so hard to understand her when she spoke at such a rapid pace. The most I got from it was something about endless guitar solos, subliminal messages, and whatever a macphisto happens to be…
“Stop,” I said. “Stop right there. What did you say?”
Her eyes flicked open. “Gosh, Marieke, you need to be prepared for this one! You remember The Fly and that mirrorball person, right?”
Of course. Who would forget those crazy personalities I had heard about in reviews of shows and seen dancing across my TV in brief snatches of U2-related news? I was fascinated by this new take on U2, how Bono wasn’t even himself anymore. I hadn’t been able to wait for my show…
“You’re going to love this,” Lina gushed on. “There’s a new persona hitting the stage- and I have witnessed his debut.”
My eyes had popped wide. Lina wasn’t kidding. Her innocent baby blues spoke nothing but the truth. “Three personas?”
“Not three, silly. I suppose the Mirrorball Man’s done something wrong, it looks like we won’t be seeing him again. Now there’s just The Fly and…” Her next words came out in a rushed murmur. “Mr. MacPhisto…”
Confused, I asked, “Who is he?”
Lina’s eyelids were sinking again. “He’s… oh; he’s like the devil on stage, Marieke. You’re going to love your show…” She said nothing for a while after that, and I realized she was asleep.
So how the hell had I ended up here? Up at the airport when I should be at a U2 show? “You’re so useless,” I mutter under my breath. “Couldn’t have been a bad girl for once and told him no…”
I’d had no choice but to give away my ticket. I couldn’t think of a better recipient for it than Lina, who, though she insisted she was too worn out from last night to see Zoo TV again, was personally thrilled. I forced myself to be happy for her, but the disappointment is a knot in my stomach. This wasn’t fair….
The night wears on mercilessly. The phone rings endlessly. I pick it up every time but then get disgusted. Why I should I give anyone comfort from my torment? And who would want a plane at this hour anyway…
The phone is ringing, ringing, ringing… I answer it unhappily. Right in middle of my talking, however- in the middle of a call I’m handling pretty well- a new call comes in. Annoyed, I let the automated message play while I finish my answer.
“KLM Reserveringen. This is KLM Reservations. There is one call ahead of you. Please hold the line. Thank you.” Music begins to play. I continue my call, assuring the lady on the other end that there’s no way she can a get a plane to Australia at this time in the night.
“Everybody is still busy. Please hold the line…” I wonder who’s calling that they could be so urgent for assistance. Finally the Australia call wraps up and I take the one caller on hold.
“Good evening,” I say in English, my voice taking on a false cheery tone.
The caller on the other end speaks in an odd British accent. “Hello, good evening, do you speak English?” There’s the sound of some loud noise coming from behind him… like a large number of people talking at once.
I’m taken a bit aback at this question. “Well- yes, sir,” I answer. “What is your name? May I help you?”
“My name is Mr. MacPhisto, and I’m looking to leave, uh, Amsterdam tonight-“
What. The. Hell?
Aaand...? (Sorry if this is going to REALLY suck!)
None of this is true.
Chapter One
“Okay, shift’s over. You know what to do from here, right?”
I nod. I’ve been at this job for quite a while- why wouldn’t I know what to do? A smile is shot my way. “Well, enjoy your night! Goodbye everybody!” And with that I am left utterly alone.
Any normal night, I wouldn’t care to be alone at the airport. But tonight… if only the shift wasn’t at night. If only it wasn’t extended. If only I didn’t have the most boring job in the world, mindlessly taking calls with nothing to distract me.
If only it hadn’t been tonight…
There’d been only two chances previously. Last time they hit Rotterdam I was out of money, in a sort of financial crisis. I don’t know what I’d done with myself, but by the time I got it sorted out they’d left Holland and were too far away to get myself to another show. Last night was Lina’s turn to go. We’d both gotten tickets for separate nights, so we could compare the changes in the set, if any. But I was forewarned just this morning…
“Hey, Marieke, you couldn’t be too troubled to take an extended shift tonight? One of our workers is going to be out of town. Yeah, I know- called at a very short notice. Could it be possible for you to take her shift? Thank you…”
And so, you see, I’d gotten myself ensnared into the trap. Not wanting to cause problems, I’d agreed- and only after hanging up the phone did I explode. Everyone at work had known about this night for weeks! Didn’t some people understand that your favorite band can be more important than your job?
Well. That line of thinking was probably what had gotten me into the crisis in the first place. I sigh and listlessly pick up the phone, which has even now been ringing. “Thank you for calling KLM Airlines, how may I help you?”
The phone girl. What a boring, boring job. I’ve never realized how tedious it could get until tonight. I wonder if Lina is enjoying herself.
Seeing U2 two nights in a row- how could that not be heaven? I’d stayed up late last night waiting for Lina to come home so she could tell me all about the concert. When she did…
“MARIEKE!” I started as the door was flung open wide and in raced a girl I barely recognized as my roommate. She’d been wearing a gray sweatshirt when she left the apartment at seven thirty, and came back at nine wearing a Zoo TV Tour shirt. I stared for a moment at the faces on her belly, wondering if I should talk to them instead of her.
Lina was beyond excited. “Oh man, girl! The concert! It was incredible, I tell you. INCREDIBLE!”
Yes, yes. I’d heard all about the insanity of Zoo TV. Never personally experienced it, y’know, but some things can’t be helped…
“What was it like?” I’d asked.
Lina’s face was shining, her eyes ablaze. “I can’t begin to describe it,” she said. “Much different from the Joshua Tree tour, let me tell you that…! Oh, god. Information overload…” She flopped across the couch on her back.
Might I have forgotten to mention that Lina has seen U2 live before?
I’d tried to listen to her recount, I truly had, but it was so hard to understand her when she spoke at such a rapid pace. The most I got from it was something about endless guitar solos, subliminal messages, and whatever a macphisto happens to be…
“Stop,” I said. “Stop right there. What did you say?”
Her eyes flicked open. “Gosh, Marieke, you need to be prepared for this one! You remember The Fly and that mirrorball person, right?”
Of course. Who would forget those crazy personalities I had heard about in reviews of shows and seen dancing across my TV in brief snatches of U2-related news? I was fascinated by this new take on U2, how Bono wasn’t even himself anymore. I hadn’t been able to wait for my show…
“You’re going to love this,” Lina gushed on. “There’s a new persona hitting the stage- and I have witnessed his debut.”
My eyes had popped wide. Lina wasn’t kidding. Her innocent baby blues spoke nothing but the truth. “Three personas?”
“Not three, silly. I suppose the Mirrorball Man’s done something wrong, it looks like we won’t be seeing him again. Now there’s just The Fly and…” Her next words came out in a rushed murmur. “Mr. MacPhisto…”
Confused, I asked, “Who is he?”
Lina’s eyelids were sinking again. “He’s… oh; he’s like the devil on stage, Marieke. You’re going to love your show…” She said nothing for a while after that, and I realized she was asleep.
So how the hell had I ended up here? Up at the airport when I should be at a U2 show? “You’re so useless,” I mutter under my breath. “Couldn’t have been a bad girl for once and told him no…”
I’d had no choice but to give away my ticket. I couldn’t think of a better recipient for it than Lina, who, though she insisted she was too worn out from last night to see Zoo TV again, was personally thrilled. I forced myself to be happy for her, but the disappointment is a knot in my stomach. This wasn’t fair….
The night wears on mercilessly. The phone rings endlessly. I pick it up every time but then get disgusted. Why I should I give anyone comfort from my torment? And who would want a plane at this hour anyway…
The phone is ringing, ringing, ringing… I answer it unhappily. Right in middle of my talking, however- in the middle of a call I’m handling pretty well- a new call comes in. Annoyed, I let the automated message play while I finish my answer.
“KLM Reserveringen. This is KLM Reservations. There is one call ahead of you. Please hold the line. Thank you.” Music begins to play. I continue my call, assuring the lady on the other end that there’s no way she can a get a plane to Australia at this time in the night.
“Everybody is still busy. Please hold the line…” I wonder who’s calling that they could be so urgent for assistance. Finally the Australia call wraps up and I take the one caller on hold.
“Good evening,” I say in English, my voice taking on a false cheery tone.
The caller on the other end speaks in an odd British accent. “Hello, good evening, do you speak English?” There’s the sound of some loud noise coming from behind him… like a large number of people talking at once.
I’m taken a bit aback at this question. “Well- yes, sir,” I answer. “What is your name? May I help you?”
“My name is Mr. MacPhisto, and I’m looking to leave, uh, Amsterdam tonight-“
What. The. Hell?
Aaand...? (Sorry if this is going to REALLY suck!)
