GraceRyan
Rock n' Roll Doggie FOB
Another shortish chapter. I had not planned this one at all until I saw that the show I reference happens around Bono's birthday. Seemed weird to skip over that. So, poof! This chapter. Oh, and since I have a tendency to cast actors in my stories - I picture Ryan as Ryan Reynolds. I have sorted who Sam is yet.
This is all fake and I don't even own the songs.
YouTube - The Cure -The Kiss -1987
Kiss me kiss me kiss me
Your tongue is like poison
So swollen it fills up my mouth
Love me love me love me
You nail me to the floor
And push my guts all inside out
Get it out get it out get it out
Get your fucking voice
Out of my head
I never wanted this
I never wanted any of this
I wish you were dead
I wish you were dead
I never wanted any of this
I wish you were dead
Dead
Dead
Dead
Larry walked into the gym the following morning with a bottle of water in his hand. He glanced over at the weight machines. He needed a run to warm up. From the other side, he heard shouting. It was big for a hotel gym but he didn’t think they held classes here.
“Is that the best you got?” He heard Faith’s voice. “You hit like a girl.”
“Oh yeah?” Ryan asked.
There was a thump and another thump. Larry turned the corner. In the open floor space, Ryan stood with a fighter’s stance. He had gloves on his hands. Across from him, Faith help up boxing mitts. She danced around him on the balls of her feet. Larry could see the muscles move under skin. On the floor near them were two jump ropes.
“C’mon. My mother can hit harder than that,” she taunted. “Your mother can hit better than that.”
“You suck,” Ryan laughed before he jabbed forward. His eyes caught on Larry staring at them. “We have company.”
Faith whirled around. Suddenly, she felt subconscious in her workout clothes. “Oh, hey.” She waved her mitt.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Ballet,” Ryan deadpanned.
“Boxing,” Faith removed her mitts.
“Are you training for a fight?” Larry walked over. Of all the things he expected to see - a businessman running on the treadmill, an overweight tourist on a recumbent bike - this was not one.
Ryan slung his arm around Faith’s neck. “I’ll bet that you didn’t know that our girl here is one of the finest boxing instructors in New York.”
Faith turned pink. “Stop. Maybe downtown.”
Larry blinked. “You box?”
“Yeah, she’s a scrappy little thing.” Ryan mussed her hair.
“Did you compete?” Larry asked.
“No. I wasn’t that good. And I was too short. But I do, or did teach at a local boxing gym. This is how we stay in shape. All you need are the mitts, gloves and jump rope,” she grabbed her water.
“And some space,” Ryan added as he stretched.
A small smile rested on Larry’s lips. He knew she looked fit but never figured she’d be a boxer. He pictured her doing some kind of step aerobics like most women.
“Do you teach women or men?” Larry asked.
“Both,” She smiled shyly. “I could teach you, if you want.”
Secretly, Ryan smiled as he gathered the jump ropes. He wasn’t used to seeing Faith shy. The look on her face, he could tell she was a smitten kitten. And who wouldn’t be? Larry was beautiful. Chiseled and carved out of marble by an artist.
Larry’s face lit up. “Really? Is it good for your back?”
She nodded. “Oh yeah.” She ran her hand along his shoulders and down his back. “This is all connected to your core which is the area from your neck to your hips. If your abdominal muscles are weak, they can’t support your back, neck and shoulders.”
Wow, she knew her stuff. “I had surgery about 2 years ago. It still bothers me. Sometimes after a show, it is really painful.”
“You can try it. If it helps, that’s great,” Faith said.
“I think it helps,” Ryan said. “I haven’t been drumming as nearly long as you, but having a strong core helps with fatigue.”
“I’m sold. When can we start?” Larry rubbed his hands together.
“Um, right now if you want,” she shrugged. “We can just practice a few basic moves and combos.”
“Great,” he grabbed the gloves off the floor.
“First, you need to warm up,” She handed him a jump rope. “Give me one hundred.”
“She doesn’t mess about,” Larry muttered to Ryan.
“No, she does not,” Ryan raised an eyebrow. “I’m going for a run.” He moved to the other side by the treadmills.
Larry had a few false starts. He felt silly tripping over his own feet. Finally, he got into a rhythm. Faith rather enjoyed watching him hop around in front of her. He was in prefect shape. She couldn’t see one ounce of fat move on him.
“Does it have to be a steady 100, or just get to 100?” he huffed.
“Just get to 100,” she said.
It seemed to take him forever, but he finally dropped the rope gasping for air. Faith handed him some water. “That was intense.”
“Maybe, but you are properly warmed up. I don’t want to be responsible for you getting injured. We’d be kicked off the tour,” she chuckled as she handed him the gloves. “Okay, we’ll do some easy left-right jabs.”
Larry was afraid to hit too hard. He barely tapped the mitts. She stepped to the side.
“Are you going to be serious?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” he frowned.
“You’d be rougher with a kitten. Come on. Hit,” she instructed.
Clearing his throat, he jabbed a little harder.
She rolled her eyes. “Hit. Me. Harder.”
Steadily, he jabbed hard. She encouraged him to go as hard as he could. “I’ve trained with middle weights. You won’t hurt me.”
“Have you ever been hit?” he asked.
“Oh yeah. A few times. If one of us loses focus, people get hurt,” she moved in a circle.
He peered over his gloves. “In the face?”
She laughed. “Yep. I’ve had a bloody nose and black eye. Fat lip.”
He gazed at her perfect smile and freckled nose. He couldn’t imagine her ever looking bad. Let alone sporting a shiner. “Well, it doesn’t show.”
She flushed. “Thanks. Okay, let’s do some jab-cross-jab combos.”
The gym was filled with the sounds of treadmill belt and Ryan’s footfalls. On the other side, the constant thump-thump as Larry struck the mitts. It was a great workout. His arms were sore. He felt his abs tighten. Now he understood how her arms were so cut. She had to absorb the force of his hits.
“So,” he cleared his throat. “You and Ryan are pretty close.”
“We live together. So, I guess that’s close,” she nodded.
“Oh, so Sam and Alex and you and Ryan....” he trailed off.
She stepped to the side to double over in laughter. “No, we’re just roommates.”
“Oh, there’s nothing going on?” He didn’t even know why he was asking. He had Ann. Why should he care?
“I’m not his type,” she said. Larry looked confused. “Ryan’s gay.”
A strange wave of joy washed over him. He totally misinterpreted their relationship.
“Oh,” Larry tried to recover quickly. “I thought it would be hard if a band was made up of couples. Look at Fleetwood Mac.”
“I can’t imagine. It seems to work for Sam and Alex, most days. But, if you think how often you fight with, say, Bono....can you imagine having to tour and go home to bed with him?” she shook her head.
“That’s an incredibly scary thought,” Larry shuddered.
Bono spied Faith, Larry and Ryan at a table for breakfast. No one else seemed to be up yet. He rubbed his forehead. It was a very late night for most involved. Bono had promised a party, and by God, he gave it to them. He grabbed some coffee and a bagel. He plopped down beside Faith.
Faith looked up. "Are you okay?" His eyes were red.
"Yeah," His voice was sandpaper.
"What time did you get in?" Larry asked.
Bono shrugged. "4 or 4:30." He had no clue really. After he extricated himself from the redhead, he staggered to find Lucy. Somehow they found their way back to the hotel.
"Where's your girl?" Faith glanced around.
"Wouldn't know. I was by meself last night," he rubbed his eyes. Faith noted a level of hostility in voice. Was he suggesting that was her fault?
"Where is everyone else?" Ryan asked.
"I guess all the lovebirds are sleeping in," Faith mused.
Bono watched the interaction between Faith and Larry.His bagel tasted like wood. The coffee was just as bad. He should have grabbed some tea instead. That's when he noticed everyone at the table in workout clothes.
"Did you all go the gym this morning?" He frowned.
"I ran into these two boxing, " Larry said.
Bono raised an eyebrow. “Boxing? Like Rocky?”
Larry nodded and pointed to Faith. “Miss Sullivan is also a boxer.”
Bono looked over at her. She nodded. “I used to teach at a gym.”
“She’s going to give me lessons. We had our first session just now,” Larry shoveled eggs in his mouth.
"Of course you did," Bono grumbled. He turned to her again. “Will you teach me?” His voice challenged her.
“You want to learn how to box?” she dared him right back. Did he really think she would just wear down?
He rubbed his stubbled chin. “Yeah, I want to learn.”
“Okay, I’ll teach you,” she sniffed. “You let me know when you are ready.”
“Oh, I’m ready, trust me,” he leaned on the arm closest to her. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Larry crossed his arms in front of his chest. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe the pure gall of Bono. Last night, he had his tongue rammed down some girl’s throat in front of everyone - including Faith. Did he think someone as smart and savvy as her would fall for him after that display?
“You made it home,” Edge cried when he saw Bono.
He tore his eyes away from Faith’s steely stare. “Yeah?”
“I thought that girl might have swallowed you,” Edge clapped him on the shoulders.
Bono’s skin crawled. In a way, she did. After being riled up by Faith, he knocked back a few too many whiskeys and allowed the redhead’s hands to wander in the dark corner. He was passive in those few minutes. Her hands on his chest, stomach. Her mouth on his, sloppy and over eager. She had wanted more and was prepared to give it right there in that stuffy club. He declined and bid her goodnight. Luckily, he ran into Lucy who was more than happy to take a weary Bono home to the hotel. Even luckier, she was too star struck to take advantage of the singer’s vulnerable state.
“No. That was a little too much whiskey,” he glanced over at Faith who was too busy peeling an orange.
“So no massive birthday party?” Edge wrapped his arms around Bono’s neck. “Bono here turns 37 years young today.”
Shit. Bono knew today was something. When he woke, he felt there was something he had to do. Was it a photo-shoot? Interview? No, it was to get old.
“Happy birthday,” Faith smiled at him.
Her voice was genuinely warm. “Thank you.” Unable to edit his inner monologue, “Do I get a birthday kiss?”
She rolled her eyes. “You want a birthday kiss? Brush your teeth. Then we’ll see.” On cue, she left.
Paul entered the breakfast room to move the gang along. Their plane for Dallas was in a few hours. Dennis was responsible for organizing the mass exodus to the airport. Strict Machine was the first to leave. U2 fans screamed as they were loaded into a van. Ryan and Faith noticed a bit of distance between Sam and Alex. The last few days had been tense. They had been a couple for almost a year, but never had to spend day in day out with one another. Faith hoped that no matter what happened between them, it wouldn’t kill the band.
The day had gone by without a call from Ali and the girls. He tried not to feel down about it. Years ago, he’d be with his family. Even if he was on tour, they’d find a way to make the day special. Adam saw the pain in Bono’s eyes as he gazed out the plane window. Normally the life of the plane manning the karaoke machine, he was quiet and withdrawn. Adam tried to engage him. Bono curled into himself and attempted to sleep. When he closed his eyes, he kept seeing the redhead shimmying in front of him. While he dozed, his band-mates planned a dinner to celebrate his birthday.
As they pulled up the hotel, it was obvious that word had been leaked. About 20 fans milled about some holding birthday signs. Immediately, Bono’s mood lifted. While Adam and Larry whisked inside, Edge and Bono greeted the fans. Bono posed for pictured and smiled brightly as they sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to him. He whistled as he breezed through the lobby. More fans darted over to give him birthday hugs and handmade cards. For a moment, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. As he entered his suite, the hotel phone rang.
“Hello?” he said.
“Hi daddy,” said the sweetest little voice on the other end.
“Jordan. Hey baby,” he sunk down on his bed. Suddenly, he missed his daughters terribly.
“Happy birthday,” She said. “I miss you.”
“Oh, I miss you too,” his heart ached. If he was still married to Ali, they would all be together.
He talked with Jordan for few minutes. He asked about school and her grandparents. Had she seen Papa, his father. Eve was next on the phone with her tiny voice. She didn’t say much. She told him that she loved and missed him. His stomach tightened as Ali got on the phone. He thanked her for having the girls call. Her voice was warm. He wondered if it would still be as cordial if it wasn’t his birthday.
After a shower and a pre-dinner drink, Bono felt a little better. The phone call with his family left a huge hole in his chest. Larry had come to collect him for his birthday dinner.
“Where are we headed?” Bono asked.
“We’re in Texas, so a barbeque place,” Larry shrugged.
He side-glanced the drummer. “That has to be killing you.”
“There’s chicken. I can live with that. Did Ali call?” he asked.
Bono nodded. “Yeah. I got to talk to the girls. That was nice. They already sound so much older.”
“Will they come to visit?” Larry asked.
“Probably not. I have no idea how that would work. You know, Ali joining the tour. I know she doesn’t want to do that or we’d still be together,” he rubbed his head.
Larry clapped his back. “I know it’s not easy. We’re here for you, mate.”
“Thanks. I know,” he stretched. “Let’s have a good time tonight. How often do you turn 37, eh?”
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Bono! Happy birthday to you!”
Bono clutched his heart at the sight. A large table stretched before him filled with his friends and both supporting bands. A chair almost resembling a throne sat at the head of the table. Edge pulled his chair out for him.
“Your highness,” he bowed.
“I’m liking how this night is going so far,” he laughed. His eyes scanned the table. Adam stood and uncorked the first bottle of champagne. He noticed that Larry and Faith sat on opposite sides of the table. Perhaps there was nothing going on. Granted, Bono was starting to wonder if she could be unattainable. She sat between Lucy and Sheila, who had rejoined the tour on behalf of Strict Machine. While in Dallas, they had a few phone interviews and photo-shoot for a small article in Spin.
“How is your day going?” Morleigh asked in a pity tone. She even did the head tilt.
“It’s been an odd day, to be quite honest. I’ve had little sleep and only got to talk the girls for a few minutes,” he motioned to his friends sitting in front of him. “But I come here to this, and I do feel blessed.”
She patted his hand. “Good.”
Alex held her breath as she sat between Sam and Edge. When they reached the hotel, Sam went to Alex’s hotel room to apologize for last night. He had too much to drink and knew he was an ass. They both acknowledged that touring took its toll on their relationship. In New York, they didn’t see this much of one another. They kissed and made up. He didn’t want to lose her. As Alex lied on her bed with him, she still felt unsettled inside. A part of her felt herself slip away from him before the tour, before recording. Even before the night U2 came into their lives.
Bono rubbed his full belly. Good food and good wine. He’d had plenty of both. His eyes fixed on Faith in conversation with Sheila. He leaned his elbows on the table.
He cleared his throat. "I'm ready for my birthday kiss."
Faith looked over. She'd been waiting for this all night. She was glad he decided to make a public display of it. If he had cornered her alone, she wasn't sure what she would do. "You sure you're ready?"
He leaned back with a smile. "Positive."
"Okay," she nodded. "Ladies?"
All the women at the table stood including her. The all gathered around Bono.
"I tried gathering 37 women to all give you a kiss. This was the best I could do," she shrugged.
The entire table laughed including Bono. "Okay, give him his birthday kiss ladies."
Morleigh was first. Then Sheila. Alex pecked his cheek awkwardly. The wardrobe assistant kissed his forehead and tip of his nose. A quivering Lucy went in for the kill. As her lips touched his her head spun. Faith watched with her arms crossed and an amused smile on her face.
Bono looked up. "What about you? Your turn."
Edge and Adam snickered watching the playful banter.
She raised her eyebrow. "What? They weren't enough for you? I guess I should have gotten the full 37."
"You said all the ladies. Fair is fair." He shrugged casually. He was enjoying the suspension and her playfulness.
"Okay." She stood in front of him. Placing her hands on the arms of his chair, she smiled sweetly. She felt him hold his breath as she inched closer. Deliberately she leaned in slowly. It took all his power to not grab her face. He forced his hands to stay still on his knees. Her blue eyes starred deep inside him. Larry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Faith’s lips softly pressed against his. With a whoosh, his body was aflame. If there had not been an audience and he weren't a gentleman, he would have laid her on the table. She felt his lips part indicating he was going for a deeper kiss. She straightened her back just as his tongue neared her top lip. With a lopsided grin, she backed away. "Happy birthday."
His eyes were glazed for a moment. When he could focus again, she had moved back to her seat.
“I think someone has met his match,” Morleigh whispered in Edge’s ear as she sat on his lap.
“Could be. Look at his face,” Edge said.
He was not going to let her see that she got to him. His heart threatened to burst from his chest. Finishing the rest of his wine with one gulp, Bono winked at Faith. Game on.
This is all fake and I don't even own the songs.
YouTube - The Cure -The Kiss -1987
Kiss me kiss me kiss me
Your tongue is like poison
So swollen it fills up my mouth
Love me love me love me
You nail me to the floor
And push my guts all inside out
Get it out get it out get it out
Get your fucking voice
Out of my head
I never wanted this
I never wanted any of this
I wish you were dead
I wish you were dead
I never wanted any of this
I wish you were dead
Dead
Dead
Dead
Larry walked into the gym the following morning with a bottle of water in his hand. He glanced over at the weight machines. He needed a run to warm up. From the other side, he heard shouting. It was big for a hotel gym but he didn’t think they held classes here.
“Is that the best you got?” He heard Faith’s voice. “You hit like a girl.”
“Oh yeah?” Ryan asked.
There was a thump and another thump. Larry turned the corner. In the open floor space, Ryan stood with a fighter’s stance. He had gloves on his hands. Across from him, Faith help up boxing mitts. She danced around him on the balls of her feet. Larry could see the muscles move under skin. On the floor near them were two jump ropes.
“C’mon. My mother can hit harder than that,” she taunted. “Your mother can hit better than that.”
“You suck,” Ryan laughed before he jabbed forward. His eyes caught on Larry staring at them. “We have company.”
Faith whirled around. Suddenly, she felt subconscious in her workout clothes. “Oh, hey.” She waved her mitt.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Ballet,” Ryan deadpanned.
“Boxing,” Faith removed her mitts.
“Are you training for a fight?” Larry walked over. Of all the things he expected to see - a businessman running on the treadmill, an overweight tourist on a recumbent bike - this was not one.
Ryan slung his arm around Faith’s neck. “I’ll bet that you didn’t know that our girl here is one of the finest boxing instructors in New York.”
Faith turned pink. “Stop. Maybe downtown.”
Larry blinked. “You box?”
“Yeah, she’s a scrappy little thing.” Ryan mussed her hair.
“Did you compete?” Larry asked.
“No. I wasn’t that good. And I was too short. But I do, or did teach at a local boxing gym. This is how we stay in shape. All you need are the mitts, gloves and jump rope,” she grabbed her water.
“And some space,” Ryan added as he stretched.
A small smile rested on Larry’s lips. He knew she looked fit but never figured she’d be a boxer. He pictured her doing some kind of step aerobics like most women.
“Do you teach women or men?” Larry asked.
“Both,” She smiled shyly. “I could teach you, if you want.”
Secretly, Ryan smiled as he gathered the jump ropes. He wasn’t used to seeing Faith shy. The look on her face, he could tell she was a smitten kitten. And who wouldn’t be? Larry was beautiful. Chiseled and carved out of marble by an artist.
Larry’s face lit up. “Really? Is it good for your back?”
She nodded. “Oh yeah.” She ran her hand along his shoulders and down his back. “This is all connected to your core which is the area from your neck to your hips. If your abdominal muscles are weak, they can’t support your back, neck and shoulders.”
Wow, she knew her stuff. “I had surgery about 2 years ago. It still bothers me. Sometimes after a show, it is really painful.”
“You can try it. If it helps, that’s great,” Faith said.
“I think it helps,” Ryan said. “I haven’t been drumming as nearly long as you, but having a strong core helps with fatigue.”
“I’m sold. When can we start?” Larry rubbed his hands together.
“Um, right now if you want,” she shrugged. “We can just practice a few basic moves and combos.”
“Great,” he grabbed the gloves off the floor.
“First, you need to warm up,” She handed him a jump rope. “Give me one hundred.”
“She doesn’t mess about,” Larry muttered to Ryan.
“No, she does not,” Ryan raised an eyebrow. “I’m going for a run.” He moved to the other side by the treadmills.
Larry had a few false starts. He felt silly tripping over his own feet. Finally, he got into a rhythm. Faith rather enjoyed watching him hop around in front of her. He was in prefect shape. She couldn’t see one ounce of fat move on him.
“Does it have to be a steady 100, or just get to 100?” he huffed.
“Just get to 100,” she said.
It seemed to take him forever, but he finally dropped the rope gasping for air. Faith handed him some water. “That was intense.”
“Maybe, but you are properly warmed up. I don’t want to be responsible for you getting injured. We’d be kicked off the tour,” she chuckled as she handed him the gloves. “Okay, we’ll do some easy left-right jabs.”
Larry was afraid to hit too hard. He barely tapped the mitts. She stepped to the side.
“Are you going to be serious?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” he frowned.
“You’d be rougher with a kitten. Come on. Hit,” she instructed.
Clearing his throat, he jabbed a little harder.
She rolled her eyes. “Hit. Me. Harder.”
Steadily, he jabbed hard. She encouraged him to go as hard as he could. “I’ve trained with middle weights. You won’t hurt me.”
“Have you ever been hit?” he asked.
“Oh yeah. A few times. If one of us loses focus, people get hurt,” she moved in a circle.
He peered over his gloves. “In the face?”
She laughed. “Yep. I’ve had a bloody nose and black eye. Fat lip.”
He gazed at her perfect smile and freckled nose. He couldn’t imagine her ever looking bad. Let alone sporting a shiner. “Well, it doesn’t show.”
She flushed. “Thanks. Okay, let’s do some jab-cross-jab combos.”
The gym was filled with the sounds of treadmill belt and Ryan’s footfalls. On the other side, the constant thump-thump as Larry struck the mitts. It was a great workout. His arms were sore. He felt his abs tighten. Now he understood how her arms were so cut. She had to absorb the force of his hits.
“So,” he cleared his throat. “You and Ryan are pretty close.”
“We live together. So, I guess that’s close,” she nodded.
“Oh, so Sam and Alex and you and Ryan....” he trailed off.
She stepped to the side to double over in laughter. “No, we’re just roommates.”
“Oh, there’s nothing going on?” He didn’t even know why he was asking. He had Ann. Why should he care?
“I’m not his type,” she said. Larry looked confused. “Ryan’s gay.”
A strange wave of joy washed over him. He totally misinterpreted their relationship.
“Oh,” Larry tried to recover quickly. “I thought it would be hard if a band was made up of couples. Look at Fleetwood Mac.”
“I can’t imagine. It seems to work for Sam and Alex, most days. But, if you think how often you fight with, say, Bono....can you imagine having to tour and go home to bed with him?” she shook her head.
“That’s an incredibly scary thought,” Larry shuddered.
Bono spied Faith, Larry and Ryan at a table for breakfast. No one else seemed to be up yet. He rubbed his forehead. It was a very late night for most involved. Bono had promised a party, and by God, he gave it to them. He grabbed some coffee and a bagel. He plopped down beside Faith.
Faith looked up. "Are you okay?" His eyes were red.
"Yeah," His voice was sandpaper.
"What time did you get in?" Larry asked.
Bono shrugged. "4 or 4:30." He had no clue really. After he extricated himself from the redhead, he staggered to find Lucy. Somehow they found their way back to the hotel.
"Where's your girl?" Faith glanced around.
"Wouldn't know. I was by meself last night," he rubbed his eyes. Faith noted a level of hostility in voice. Was he suggesting that was her fault?
"Where is everyone else?" Ryan asked.
"I guess all the lovebirds are sleeping in," Faith mused.
Bono watched the interaction between Faith and Larry.His bagel tasted like wood. The coffee was just as bad. He should have grabbed some tea instead. That's when he noticed everyone at the table in workout clothes.
"Did you all go the gym this morning?" He frowned.
"I ran into these two boxing, " Larry said.
Bono raised an eyebrow. “Boxing? Like Rocky?”
Larry nodded and pointed to Faith. “Miss Sullivan is also a boxer.”
Bono looked over at her. She nodded. “I used to teach at a gym.”
“She’s going to give me lessons. We had our first session just now,” Larry shoveled eggs in his mouth.
"Of course you did," Bono grumbled. He turned to her again. “Will you teach me?” His voice challenged her.
“You want to learn how to box?” she dared him right back. Did he really think she would just wear down?
He rubbed his stubbled chin. “Yeah, I want to learn.”
“Okay, I’ll teach you,” she sniffed. “You let me know when you are ready.”
“Oh, I’m ready, trust me,” he leaned on the arm closest to her. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Larry crossed his arms in front of his chest. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe the pure gall of Bono. Last night, he had his tongue rammed down some girl’s throat in front of everyone - including Faith. Did he think someone as smart and savvy as her would fall for him after that display?
“You made it home,” Edge cried when he saw Bono.
He tore his eyes away from Faith’s steely stare. “Yeah?”
“I thought that girl might have swallowed you,” Edge clapped him on the shoulders.
Bono’s skin crawled. In a way, she did. After being riled up by Faith, he knocked back a few too many whiskeys and allowed the redhead’s hands to wander in the dark corner. He was passive in those few minutes. Her hands on his chest, stomach. Her mouth on his, sloppy and over eager. She had wanted more and was prepared to give it right there in that stuffy club. He declined and bid her goodnight. Luckily, he ran into Lucy who was more than happy to take a weary Bono home to the hotel. Even luckier, she was too star struck to take advantage of the singer’s vulnerable state.
“No. That was a little too much whiskey,” he glanced over at Faith who was too busy peeling an orange.
“So no massive birthday party?” Edge wrapped his arms around Bono’s neck. “Bono here turns 37 years young today.”
Shit. Bono knew today was something. When he woke, he felt there was something he had to do. Was it a photo-shoot? Interview? No, it was to get old.
“Happy birthday,” Faith smiled at him.
Her voice was genuinely warm. “Thank you.” Unable to edit his inner monologue, “Do I get a birthday kiss?”
She rolled her eyes. “You want a birthday kiss? Brush your teeth. Then we’ll see.” On cue, she left.
Paul entered the breakfast room to move the gang along. Their plane for Dallas was in a few hours. Dennis was responsible for organizing the mass exodus to the airport. Strict Machine was the first to leave. U2 fans screamed as they were loaded into a van. Ryan and Faith noticed a bit of distance between Sam and Alex. The last few days had been tense. They had been a couple for almost a year, but never had to spend day in day out with one another. Faith hoped that no matter what happened between them, it wouldn’t kill the band.
The day had gone by without a call from Ali and the girls. He tried not to feel down about it. Years ago, he’d be with his family. Even if he was on tour, they’d find a way to make the day special. Adam saw the pain in Bono’s eyes as he gazed out the plane window. Normally the life of the plane manning the karaoke machine, he was quiet and withdrawn. Adam tried to engage him. Bono curled into himself and attempted to sleep. When he closed his eyes, he kept seeing the redhead shimmying in front of him. While he dozed, his band-mates planned a dinner to celebrate his birthday.
As they pulled up the hotel, it was obvious that word had been leaked. About 20 fans milled about some holding birthday signs. Immediately, Bono’s mood lifted. While Adam and Larry whisked inside, Edge and Bono greeted the fans. Bono posed for pictured and smiled brightly as they sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to him. He whistled as he breezed through the lobby. More fans darted over to give him birthday hugs and handmade cards. For a moment, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. As he entered his suite, the hotel phone rang.
“Hello?” he said.
“Hi daddy,” said the sweetest little voice on the other end.
“Jordan. Hey baby,” he sunk down on his bed. Suddenly, he missed his daughters terribly.
“Happy birthday,” She said. “I miss you.”
“Oh, I miss you too,” his heart ached. If he was still married to Ali, they would all be together.
He talked with Jordan for few minutes. He asked about school and her grandparents. Had she seen Papa, his father. Eve was next on the phone with her tiny voice. She didn’t say much. She told him that she loved and missed him. His stomach tightened as Ali got on the phone. He thanked her for having the girls call. Her voice was warm. He wondered if it would still be as cordial if it wasn’t his birthday.
After a shower and a pre-dinner drink, Bono felt a little better. The phone call with his family left a huge hole in his chest. Larry had come to collect him for his birthday dinner.
“Where are we headed?” Bono asked.
“We’re in Texas, so a barbeque place,” Larry shrugged.
He side-glanced the drummer. “That has to be killing you.”
“There’s chicken. I can live with that. Did Ali call?” he asked.
Bono nodded. “Yeah. I got to talk to the girls. That was nice. They already sound so much older.”
“Will they come to visit?” Larry asked.
“Probably not. I have no idea how that would work. You know, Ali joining the tour. I know she doesn’t want to do that or we’d still be together,” he rubbed his head.
Larry clapped his back. “I know it’s not easy. We’re here for you, mate.”
“Thanks. I know,” he stretched. “Let’s have a good time tonight. How often do you turn 37, eh?”
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Bono! Happy birthday to you!”
Bono clutched his heart at the sight. A large table stretched before him filled with his friends and both supporting bands. A chair almost resembling a throne sat at the head of the table. Edge pulled his chair out for him.
“Your highness,” he bowed.
“I’m liking how this night is going so far,” he laughed. His eyes scanned the table. Adam stood and uncorked the first bottle of champagne. He noticed that Larry and Faith sat on opposite sides of the table. Perhaps there was nothing going on. Granted, Bono was starting to wonder if she could be unattainable. She sat between Lucy and Sheila, who had rejoined the tour on behalf of Strict Machine. While in Dallas, they had a few phone interviews and photo-shoot for a small article in Spin.
“How is your day going?” Morleigh asked in a pity tone. She even did the head tilt.
“It’s been an odd day, to be quite honest. I’ve had little sleep and only got to talk the girls for a few minutes,” he motioned to his friends sitting in front of him. “But I come here to this, and I do feel blessed.”
She patted his hand. “Good.”
Alex held her breath as she sat between Sam and Edge. When they reached the hotel, Sam went to Alex’s hotel room to apologize for last night. He had too much to drink and knew he was an ass. They both acknowledged that touring took its toll on their relationship. In New York, they didn’t see this much of one another. They kissed and made up. He didn’t want to lose her. As Alex lied on her bed with him, she still felt unsettled inside. A part of her felt herself slip away from him before the tour, before recording. Even before the night U2 came into their lives.
Bono rubbed his full belly. Good food and good wine. He’d had plenty of both. His eyes fixed on Faith in conversation with Sheila. He leaned his elbows on the table.
He cleared his throat. "I'm ready for my birthday kiss."
Faith looked over. She'd been waiting for this all night. She was glad he decided to make a public display of it. If he had cornered her alone, she wasn't sure what she would do. "You sure you're ready?"
He leaned back with a smile. "Positive."
"Okay," she nodded. "Ladies?"
All the women at the table stood including her. The all gathered around Bono.
"I tried gathering 37 women to all give you a kiss. This was the best I could do," she shrugged.
The entire table laughed including Bono. "Okay, give him his birthday kiss ladies."
Morleigh was first. Then Sheila. Alex pecked his cheek awkwardly. The wardrobe assistant kissed his forehead and tip of his nose. A quivering Lucy went in for the kill. As her lips touched his her head spun. Faith watched with her arms crossed and an amused smile on her face.
Bono looked up. "What about you? Your turn."
Edge and Adam snickered watching the playful banter.
She raised her eyebrow. "What? They weren't enough for you? I guess I should have gotten the full 37."
"You said all the ladies. Fair is fair." He shrugged casually. He was enjoying the suspension and her playfulness.
"Okay." She stood in front of him. Placing her hands on the arms of his chair, she smiled sweetly. She felt him hold his breath as she inched closer. Deliberately she leaned in slowly. It took all his power to not grab her face. He forced his hands to stay still on his knees. Her blue eyes starred deep inside him. Larry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Faith’s lips softly pressed against his. With a whoosh, his body was aflame. If there had not been an audience and he weren't a gentleman, he would have laid her on the table. She felt his lips part indicating he was going for a deeper kiss. She straightened her back just as his tongue neared her top lip. With a lopsided grin, she backed away. "Happy birthday."
His eyes were glazed for a moment. When he could focus again, she had moved back to her seat.
“I think someone has met his match,” Morleigh whispered in Edge’s ear as she sat on his lap.
“Could be. Look at his face,” Edge said.
He was not going to let her see that she got to him. His heart threatened to burst from his chest. Finishing the rest of his wine with one gulp, Bono winked at Faith. Game on.
and...didn't Bono used to box a lot?
thanks for making Edge a total smart ass. Priceless.
... oh wait... did I type that out?
