edge's girl
Acrobat
disclaimer: all of it's fiction
Edge lay on the bed in his hotel room feeling miserable. Never before had he hated the stretch between shows this much, at least when he was on stage he could forget the pain, forget that the woman he’d fallen in love with hated him now. Bono was acting like an overprotective big brother wherever they went trying to protect him from what others might say. Which was kind of him but it didn’t fix what the real hurt was, something that Bono could never understand.
There was pounding on the door and a moment later Bono strides in wearing his usual grin with his eyes hidden behind his fly shades. “Come on, Reg, we’re all going out for a drink.”
Edge shook his head. “Don’t feel like it.”
Bono’s grin disappeared. “Look, I know you’re hurting but hiding in your room all day isn’t going to help. We want you with us and it would do you some good to get out.”
Edge sighed, he’s not at all in the mood to go drinking but he doesn’t want everyone constantly standing around worrying about him either. “Alright, give me a minute to get my jacket.”
* * *
Vik had, almost involuntarily, been collecting stories about Edge. People seemed to have plenty to say about how he’d just broken up with his wife and was having a rough time about it. As much as she’d like to write it off as a “normal rock star thing” she’d seen something in Edge’s eyes that day that wouldn’t leave her. A haunted look that she recognized only too well, which, she rationalized, had to be the reason she was displaying any kind of interest in him at all.
She’d learned a fair bit about the rest of the band as well and was, much to her horror, starting to develop a grudging respect for them.
However that did not mean that she was going to go out of her way to be around any of them. Especially Mr. Women-look-at-me-and-swoon, other wise known as Bono. Every other female on the crew would have loved to spend five seconds around him and were extremely envious of the fact that Vik had spoken with him. It also drove them up the wall that Vik wanted nothing to do with the charismatic singer.
Currently everyone else’s opinions of her were not on the forefront of Viks mind as she prowled around backstage looking for her swiss army knife. The knife was one of Viks most treasured possessions given it had enough different attachments that she could do virtually anything with it. Which was why she hopped someone hadn’t taken it.
Rounding a corner she almost ran straight into Edge.
“I thought you’d left with the rest of the band,” she said without thinking.
He shook his head. “I didn’t feel like going with them tonight.”
Then she spotted her knife in his hand. “Hey, that’s my knife, I wondered where it had gone.”
Edge looked startled. “Is it? I just found it, I had no clue who it belonged to.”
Vik took it from him studying him carefully again thinking she’d seen that look she couldn’t forget. ‘Is he…no he can’t be. After all he’s a rock star with a perfect life,’ she thought as she pocket the knife. But even as she turned and walked away the thought tried to worm it’s way into her consciousness demanding to be acknowledged.
* * *
two parts posted in one day, that has to be a record for me.
Edge lay on the bed in his hotel room feeling miserable. Never before had he hated the stretch between shows this much, at least when he was on stage he could forget the pain, forget that the woman he’d fallen in love with hated him now. Bono was acting like an overprotective big brother wherever they went trying to protect him from what others might say. Which was kind of him but it didn’t fix what the real hurt was, something that Bono could never understand.
There was pounding on the door and a moment later Bono strides in wearing his usual grin with his eyes hidden behind his fly shades. “Come on, Reg, we’re all going out for a drink.”
Edge shook his head. “Don’t feel like it.”
Bono’s grin disappeared. “Look, I know you’re hurting but hiding in your room all day isn’t going to help. We want you with us and it would do you some good to get out.”
Edge sighed, he’s not at all in the mood to go drinking but he doesn’t want everyone constantly standing around worrying about him either. “Alright, give me a minute to get my jacket.”
* * *
Vik had, almost involuntarily, been collecting stories about Edge. People seemed to have plenty to say about how he’d just broken up with his wife and was having a rough time about it. As much as she’d like to write it off as a “normal rock star thing” she’d seen something in Edge’s eyes that day that wouldn’t leave her. A haunted look that she recognized only too well, which, she rationalized, had to be the reason she was displaying any kind of interest in him at all.
She’d learned a fair bit about the rest of the band as well and was, much to her horror, starting to develop a grudging respect for them.
However that did not mean that she was going to go out of her way to be around any of them. Especially Mr. Women-look-at-me-and-swoon, other wise known as Bono. Every other female on the crew would have loved to spend five seconds around him and were extremely envious of the fact that Vik had spoken with him. It also drove them up the wall that Vik wanted nothing to do with the charismatic singer.
Currently everyone else’s opinions of her were not on the forefront of Viks mind as she prowled around backstage looking for her swiss army knife. The knife was one of Viks most treasured possessions given it had enough different attachments that she could do virtually anything with it. Which was why she hopped someone hadn’t taken it.
Rounding a corner she almost ran straight into Edge.
“I thought you’d left with the rest of the band,” she said without thinking.
He shook his head. “I didn’t feel like going with them tonight.”
Then she spotted her knife in his hand. “Hey, that’s my knife, I wondered where it had gone.”
Edge looked startled. “Is it? I just found it, I had no clue who it belonged to.”
Vik took it from him studying him carefully again thinking she’d seen that look she couldn’t forget. ‘Is he…no he can’t be. After all he’s a rock star with a perfect life,’ she thought as she pocket the knife. But even as she turned and walked away the thought tried to worm it’s way into her consciousness demanding to be acknowledged.
* * *
two parts posted in one day, that has to be a record for me.
