Serena Vox
ONE love, blood, life
Thanks to all my wonderful readers and my lovely beta, Diane. 
I am archiving this story to my journal. Anyone interested in the link can email me. dirnts_angel@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: Don't own/know U2, I don't make money of this, never happened, etc.
Warnings: Language, violence.
---
Bono and Grace’s father were sitting in the living room, discussing album matters for their next piece of work when a knock sounded at the door. The older man got up and opened the door, seeing the woman better known as his ex-wife, Jeanie standing at the door with a little Grace by her leg.
The little girl’s eyes scanned over the room, fixing directly on Bono. A big smiled formed on her face and she dropped her bag of toys, darting across the room. The singer knelt down, holding out his arms as she barreled towards him. She jumped into his arms, allowing him to lift her weight up and hold her. Her parents watched curiously and looked at each other.
“Well then, Jack, I suppose I’ll see her next Sunday,” Jeanie remarked, watching Bono holding her daughter up in one arm, making hand signs and peace signs in front of her with the other.
“Yeah, next Sunday,” Her father replied.
“I do miss her.”
“Well, you should have thought about that before you tried to hurt her.”
“I know,” She looked away wistfully. Jack wasn’t about to buy into that, however.
“See you next Sunday.”
“See you.” And with that, she left.
Grace flailed her arms around as Bono carried her over into the living room and put her down feet first on the hardwood floor with a light patter. She scampered across the floor, picking up a piece of paper. She flopped down on her bottom, picking up a pencil off the floor and began to scribble with it. Watching curiously, he knelt down next to her and observed the indistinct letters. It looked like she was trying to write his name.
“B…” Bono said. He wrapped his fingers around her tiny ones and began to guide her hand into a straight line with two curves onto the paper.
“B!” She clapped her hands together with the pencil still in hand.
Jack walked past them, looking down at the piece of paper both of them were seated in front of, attempting to write out Bono’s name. He shook his head and went into the kitchen, paying no mind to the random shouting of letters from the living room. He put his mug into the sink and looked out the window at the brush swaying in the breeze. He sighed, walking back out of the kitchen, through the dining room and into the living room, where his daughter was seated with his company, scribbling on pieces of paper.
He shuffled past them, up the stairs. Bono looked at the stairs and back to Grace, a curious look on his face. She just shrugged, continuing to write down her new word over and over on the paper. A crash sounded from the dining room and the singer jumped up, startled.
“I’ll be right back…”
“Okie dokie,” Her usual reply.
Bono went into the dining room, finding that the window was busted. Looking around, he saw nothing but the glass in pieces all over the floor in front of said window. A shriek came from the living room and he ran back in, finding Grace squirming in her mother’s arms, trying to get loose. His eyes narrowed down to the shard in her hand and he swallowed hard, looking around.
“Come on; just put her down…please.”
“I want my baby,” She replied, tears going down her face.
Grace wailed and screamed, trying to kick her way loose, despite Bono’s visual efforts to make her stop before she ended up seriously hurt. Her father then bolted down the steps, taking the situation in.
“Jeanie, put her down,” Jack said, holding his hands up.
“I said; I want my baby,” She repeated, holding up the piece of glass, blood running down her arm from where it had pierced her own hand by her grip on it.
Bono slipped out of the room long enough to call the police while Jack distracted her. And before all was said and done with, she was escorted out and dealt with, Not to be heard from for a long time to come. Meanwhile, Grace was unscathed and happy.
***
“Mother?” Edge asked. His eyes were now fixed on the young woman seated in Bono’s favourite seat. She stared at the wall, barely moving, not even blinking. She reminded him a lot of a statue.
Bono shook his head at his band mate, in the attempt of getting him to drop it until he knew more about what he was dealing with. His recollections of just what happened, why her mother wasn’t heard from in so long were plenty enough cause for concern. Not to mention he had always heard stories about Grace’s mother afterwards. Bad ones. Therefore, he felt it best to remain quiet and hope that his friends take the cue. At least until she was ready to talk about it.
She glanced over at the star-decorated pocket on the leather jacket not two feet from her, knowing the phone was in there. And with that, came knowing what awaited. The thing she would have to confront.
“Lemme see it,” She said, holding her hand out.
Adam watched silently as Bono pulled the phone back out of his pocket, handing it right over to her without a word. She took the phone from him and opened it, dialing something on it and held it up. A faint ringing noise could be heard, followed by what sounded like a recording. He had guessed by that, that she was listening to whatever message must have been waiting on her phone.
“What is it?” The singer asked.
She held her hand up for a moment as the message ended and dialed out once more, handing it over to Bono. “Here.”
“What?”
“Just listen.”
He nodded, waiting for the recording. It soon sounded, nearly startling him at first.
“Hi Grace, it’s mom. I was calling to see how you were doing, but it seems you’re busy. I’ll be in town tomorrow. I want to talk to you soon and see you again. It’s been so long. Your father told me about your new boyfriend, I want to meet him, too. I love you. Bye.”
Bono pulled the phone away from his ear, shaking his head. That was not the same woman he remembered. “I don’t get her.”
“She has got a lot of fucking nerve.”
“What?” Edge asked, cutting in again.
“Here,” The lead man replied, handing it over to him.
Edge took the phone with a nod and fiddled with it a bit, playing the message for himself. He listened intently, his brow furrowed. The bassist looked over, then returning his glance to the young woman. He studied her features. Worry, anxiety, stress all covered her face. He knew something was wrong but what, was beyond him.
The message ended and the guitarist took the phone from his ear, holding it to Adam, who politely refused and handed it back to Bono.
“I don’t get it either.”
“And none of us will for now,” Bono said, casting a knowing glance to what seemed to be a dazed out Grace.
“Do you need to talk about it?” Adam finally spoke up.
“I don’t know,” She didn’t even take her eyes off whatever spot on the wall would have her fascinated.
“What do you want to do?” Bono asked, kneeling down next to her. He placed his hand on her knee, as if to comfort with the question.
“I don’t know,” She repeated.
What can I do?
“I think you should try to get some rest, you did kind of get woke up,” The singer supplied after a long pause.
“Like I can sleep,” She snorted, rolling her eyes.
“Try?”
“I guess so.”
“Good,” Bono said, lifting up and held his hand out to her. She took it reluctantly and he led her back to the guest room, ignoring whatever odd glance either band mate may be throwing his way, or hers at this point. He opened the door and motioned for her to go inside. She sighed - long and loud and turned back to look at him.
“Thanks,” She nodded, dropping her phone onto the night stand.
“Get some rest. I’ll wake you up in a bit and we can get something to eat. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He stood at the doorway, watching her crawl back into the bed and turn over onto her side, her back facing him. He dropped his eyes to the floor and stepped out, closing the door behind him. He leaned back against the door momentarily, sighing. Then he finally went back into the living area, seeing both Adam and Edge watching his every move.
***
A few hours later, Grace turned over, groaning a little. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked out the window, seeing the sky in shades of red. Sunset was upon them now. She looked over at the clock, it read half past seven. She lifted up, scooting back against the headboard of the bed and rubbed her eyes. She leaned her head back against the wall, looking out the window at the distant trees, whose branches waved in the evening breeze and she sighed.
A knock sounded at the door and she asked whoever it was to come in. Bono poked his head into the door, smiling a little as his eyes met hers.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” She replied with a giggle.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, closing the door behind him. He stepped towards the bed, sitting sown on the edge of it.
“A bit tired. I just woke up. Other than that, don’t know what to make of it.”
“It’ll be okay.”
She looked down at her entwined hands in her lap and sighed. She didn’t know what to say, or even do at this point. Listening to Bono seemed be the best idea, but it was hard to think that what he was saying was the truth. She never thought he would lie to her. It was her own insecurities filling her with fear.
What’d I do to get blessed with this wonderful man?
“It will?” She finally mustered after a long silence.
“Yes. I’ll make sure of it,” He replied, reaching his hand out to her face.
She flinched at the approach, watching the apologetic look forming on his face. He looked at the bruise, remembering why she would jump like that. His eyes lowered, a sad glint forming in them. She reached down for his hand, pulling it between hers and smiled faintly.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. I understand. I’m the one who’s sorry. Sorry you had to endure this bullshit.”
“Bono…” She whispered, letting his hand go and lifting her arms up.
He gave her a confused look, silently hoping that if he obliged, she wouldn’t jump or flip out like she had earlier this afternoon. He scooted over on the bed, leaning over to put his arms around her carefully. She closed her eyes, resting her head against his shoulder as he encircled his arms around her, holding her lightly, so as not to startle her. Her arms went around him, under his arms and she sighed contently, feeling perfectly safe for once. They remained in each other’s arms for a moment, before he pulled back from her, keeping his gently grasp on her forearms.
“Larry’s getting some pizza. He should be back any minute. Are you hungry?”
“Is Larry the drummer?” She asked and he nodded. “Yeah, I could use a little something to eat.”
“Good, come on.”
“Just a little longer…” Her voice came out in a whisper as she leaned into him again, wrapping her arms around him.
Bono looked down at the top of her head, observing the golden, tangled mess from her sleep. He slid his arms around her again, resting his chin against the top of her head. She paid no mind to the stubble on his face, tugging at her hair a little. She turned her head so that her cheek rested on his shoulder and she saw her phone flashing, indicating she had either a message or a text.
“Must’ve rung when you were asleep,” He said, his gaze following hers to the night stand.
“Probably.”
She lifted from his arms, reaching out and grabbed the phone. Her hand curled around it and shoved it into her jeans pocket, ignoring whatever was waiting on it. The singer stood up and grabbed for her arm, gently, pulling her close to him. He lead her out of the guest room and walked her into the living room, where all of his band mates sat around the coffee table, pizza boxes laying in the midst.
“Here,” He eased her down into his seat and knelt down on the floor next to her, ignoring the looks each of his friends were shooting at him.
Grace swallowed hard, looking at each one of them and then at the pizza. Adam, who was sat across from her, nudged the box between the two of them over to her and motioned to it. Bono immediately reached up onto the table and grabbed two pieces, handing one to her. She took it without a word and began to eat it, paying no mind at all to Larry’s very observant gaze. He seemed to watch her, study her, as though he were trying to look into her very soul. She wouldn’t admit it to any of them, but she would to herself – it creeped her out.
“’Ello,” He finally spoke up, nodding his head to her.
“Hi,” She replied, looking up at him, a faint smile was forming on his face.
“I’m Larry. You must be that lovely Grace woman Bono raves about all the time.”
Edge rolled his eyes, eating his pizza quietly. Bono shot him a look in the midst, sticking his tongue out rather childishly at his friend. The bassist mirrored the motion, his eyes rolling skyward.
“Are we ten year olds now?” Adam asked, leaning forward in his spot on the couch.
“He started it,” Bono said accusingly at the guitarist.
“Oh for fuck’s sakes…”
Larry and Grace took their eyes off one another and looked at the rest of the crowd, both of them wearing the same, blank expression. Edge could hardly contain the snort of laughter that ached to come out at the would-be ‘twins’ of their bickering. Bono looked back down at his pizza, ignoring everything else.
“So Grace, are you feeling better?” Adam asked, a hopeful look on his face. This made her feel a little more comfortable.
“Yeah. Sorry about the fit you all saw me have earlier.”
“It’s understandable.”
Edge picked up what had to be his third piece and began to eat it, remaining deathly quiet, a suspicious look on his face. She fought her hardest to keep the urge to ask him what was up at bay. Little did she know that by the look Bono was shooting him, he apparently knew what the guitarist was thinking. Opting to ignore it all, she finished the first piece and reached over the space between the chair and the table to grab another.
The lead man looked up and put his hand on her arm then grabbed it for her, handing it to her. She took it with a ‘thank you’ and began to eat it. She sighed, everything within the last few months going through her head. All of these thoughts consumed her, threatening to swallow her whole. Her mind raced, her emotions swimming. She set down the crust from the second piece of pizza, putting her head in her hands.
Bono set down his food, reaching out for her. “Grace, are you okay?”
“I-I…I don’t know.”
He stood up, putting an arm around her, waiting for a sign, a sentence maybe. She sighed, pulling her hands down from her head and looked at the rest of the guys, who all wore confused expressions, laced with concern for her, never mind the fact that they barely knew her nor she did hardly know them.
“What’s so bad about mother…” She finally spoke up again, looking down at the sleeve of Bono’s jacket before looking directly into his eyes. “You don’t need this…”
“What?” The singer asked, clearly confused.
What? Of course if you knew…you’d never want anything to do with me, would you?
“My parents divorced ‘cause she’s crazy,” She replied, “and that’s all you really need to know.”
Everyone fell silent for a long moment. No one dared to speak up, no one knew what to say. They all watched her curiously, Bono included, waiting to see if she said anything else. She had figured nobody would really buy it. People always figured that they just didn’t get along and that was that. But Bono knew better and it seemed Edge had an idea too.
Bono watched her staring down at the pizza, not speaking a word to her. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, or what to do. It was that he wanted to do more than just offer words. He didn’t want her to feel bad and right now, that was all that mattered to him.
“If you go see her, I’m going too,” He suddenly said, looking down at her, never letting go.
“Thank you…but you don’t have to, I’d really rather not—”
“Well, I’d really rather you not go alone.”
“Okay,” She agreed reluctantly.
I am archiving this story to my journal. Anyone interested in the link can email me. dirnts_angel@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: Don't own/know U2, I don't make money of this, never happened, etc.
Warnings: Language, violence.
---
Bono and Grace’s father were sitting in the living room, discussing album matters for their next piece of work when a knock sounded at the door. The older man got up and opened the door, seeing the woman better known as his ex-wife, Jeanie standing at the door with a little Grace by her leg.
The little girl’s eyes scanned over the room, fixing directly on Bono. A big smiled formed on her face and she dropped her bag of toys, darting across the room. The singer knelt down, holding out his arms as she barreled towards him. She jumped into his arms, allowing him to lift her weight up and hold her. Her parents watched curiously and looked at each other.
“Well then, Jack, I suppose I’ll see her next Sunday,” Jeanie remarked, watching Bono holding her daughter up in one arm, making hand signs and peace signs in front of her with the other.
“Yeah, next Sunday,” Her father replied.
“I do miss her.”
“Well, you should have thought about that before you tried to hurt her.”
“I know,” She looked away wistfully. Jack wasn’t about to buy into that, however.
“See you next Sunday.”
“See you.” And with that, she left.
Grace flailed her arms around as Bono carried her over into the living room and put her down feet first on the hardwood floor with a light patter. She scampered across the floor, picking up a piece of paper. She flopped down on her bottom, picking up a pencil off the floor and began to scribble with it. Watching curiously, he knelt down next to her and observed the indistinct letters. It looked like she was trying to write his name.
“B…” Bono said. He wrapped his fingers around her tiny ones and began to guide her hand into a straight line with two curves onto the paper.
“B!” She clapped her hands together with the pencil still in hand.
Jack walked past them, looking down at the piece of paper both of them were seated in front of, attempting to write out Bono’s name. He shook his head and went into the kitchen, paying no mind to the random shouting of letters from the living room. He put his mug into the sink and looked out the window at the brush swaying in the breeze. He sighed, walking back out of the kitchen, through the dining room and into the living room, where his daughter was seated with his company, scribbling on pieces of paper.
He shuffled past them, up the stairs. Bono looked at the stairs and back to Grace, a curious look on his face. She just shrugged, continuing to write down her new word over and over on the paper. A crash sounded from the dining room and the singer jumped up, startled.
“I’ll be right back…”
“Okie dokie,” Her usual reply.
Bono went into the dining room, finding that the window was busted. Looking around, he saw nothing but the glass in pieces all over the floor in front of said window. A shriek came from the living room and he ran back in, finding Grace squirming in her mother’s arms, trying to get loose. His eyes narrowed down to the shard in her hand and he swallowed hard, looking around.
“Come on; just put her down…please.”
“I want my baby,” She replied, tears going down her face.
Grace wailed and screamed, trying to kick her way loose, despite Bono’s visual efforts to make her stop before she ended up seriously hurt. Her father then bolted down the steps, taking the situation in.
“Jeanie, put her down,” Jack said, holding his hands up.
“I said; I want my baby,” She repeated, holding up the piece of glass, blood running down her arm from where it had pierced her own hand by her grip on it.
Bono slipped out of the room long enough to call the police while Jack distracted her. And before all was said and done with, she was escorted out and dealt with, Not to be heard from for a long time to come. Meanwhile, Grace was unscathed and happy.
***
“Mother?” Edge asked. His eyes were now fixed on the young woman seated in Bono’s favourite seat. She stared at the wall, barely moving, not even blinking. She reminded him a lot of a statue.
Bono shook his head at his band mate, in the attempt of getting him to drop it until he knew more about what he was dealing with. His recollections of just what happened, why her mother wasn’t heard from in so long were plenty enough cause for concern. Not to mention he had always heard stories about Grace’s mother afterwards. Bad ones. Therefore, he felt it best to remain quiet and hope that his friends take the cue. At least until she was ready to talk about it.
She glanced over at the star-decorated pocket on the leather jacket not two feet from her, knowing the phone was in there. And with that, came knowing what awaited. The thing she would have to confront.
“Lemme see it,” She said, holding her hand out.
Adam watched silently as Bono pulled the phone back out of his pocket, handing it right over to her without a word. She took the phone from him and opened it, dialing something on it and held it up. A faint ringing noise could be heard, followed by what sounded like a recording. He had guessed by that, that she was listening to whatever message must have been waiting on her phone.
“What is it?” The singer asked.
She held her hand up for a moment as the message ended and dialed out once more, handing it over to Bono. “Here.”
“What?”
“Just listen.”
He nodded, waiting for the recording. It soon sounded, nearly startling him at first.
“Hi Grace, it’s mom. I was calling to see how you were doing, but it seems you’re busy. I’ll be in town tomorrow. I want to talk to you soon and see you again. It’s been so long. Your father told me about your new boyfriend, I want to meet him, too. I love you. Bye.”
Bono pulled the phone away from his ear, shaking his head. That was not the same woman he remembered. “I don’t get her.”
“She has got a lot of fucking nerve.”
“What?” Edge asked, cutting in again.
“Here,” The lead man replied, handing it over to him.
Edge took the phone with a nod and fiddled with it a bit, playing the message for himself. He listened intently, his brow furrowed. The bassist looked over, then returning his glance to the young woman. He studied her features. Worry, anxiety, stress all covered her face. He knew something was wrong but what, was beyond him.
The message ended and the guitarist took the phone from his ear, holding it to Adam, who politely refused and handed it back to Bono.
“I don’t get it either.”
“And none of us will for now,” Bono said, casting a knowing glance to what seemed to be a dazed out Grace.
“Do you need to talk about it?” Adam finally spoke up.
“I don’t know,” She didn’t even take her eyes off whatever spot on the wall would have her fascinated.
“What do you want to do?” Bono asked, kneeling down next to her. He placed his hand on her knee, as if to comfort with the question.
“I don’t know,” She repeated.
What can I do?
“I think you should try to get some rest, you did kind of get woke up,” The singer supplied after a long pause.
“Like I can sleep,” She snorted, rolling her eyes.
“Try?”
“I guess so.”
“Good,” Bono said, lifting up and held his hand out to her. She took it reluctantly and he led her back to the guest room, ignoring whatever odd glance either band mate may be throwing his way, or hers at this point. He opened the door and motioned for her to go inside. She sighed - long and loud and turned back to look at him.
“Thanks,” She nodded, dropping her phone onto the night stand.
“Get some rest. I’ll wake you up in a bit and we can get something to eat. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He stood at the doorway, watching her crawl back into the bed and turn over onto her side, her back facing him. He dropped his eyes to the floor and stepped out, closing the door behind him. He leaned back against the door momentarily, sighing. Then he finally went back into the living area, seeing both Adam and Edge watching his every move.
***
A few hours later, Grace turned over, groaning a little. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked out the window, seeing the sky in shades of red. Sunset was upon them now. She looked over at the clock, it read half past seven. She lifted up, scooting back against the headboard of the bed and rubbed her eyes. She leaned her head back against the wall, looking out the window at the distant trees, whose branches waved in the evening breeze and she sighed.
A knock sounded at the door and she asked whoever it was to come in. Bono poked his head into the door, smiling a little as his eyes met hers.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” She replied with a giggle.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, closing the door behind him. He stepped towards the bed, sitting sown on the edge of it.
“A bit tired. I just woke up. Other than that, don’t know what to make of it.”
“It’ll be okay.”
She looked down at her entwined hands in her lap and sighed. She didn’t know what to say, or even do at this point. Listening to Bono seemed be the best idea, but it was hard to think that what he was saying was the truth. She never thought he would lie to her. It was her own insecurities filling her with fear.
What’d I do to get blessed with this wonderful man?
“It will?” She finally mustered after a long silence.
“Yes. I’ll make sure of it,” He replied, reaching his hand out to her face.
She flinched at the approach, watching the apologetic look forming on his face. He looked at the bruise, remembering why she would jump like that. His eyes lowered, a sad glint forming in them. She reached down for his hand, pulling it between hers and smiled faintly.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. I understand. I’m the one who’s sorry. Sorry you had to endure this bullshit.”
“Bono…” She whispered, letting his hand go and lifting her arms up.
He gave her a confused look, silently hoping that if he obliged, she wouldn’t jump or flip out like she had earlier this afternoon. He scooted over on the bed, leaning over to put his arms around her carefully. She closed her eyes, resting her head against his shoulder as he encircled his arms around her, holding her lightly, so as not to startle her. Her arms went around him, under his arms and she sighed contently, feeling perfectly safe for once. They remained in each other’s arms for a moment, before he pulled back from her, keeping his gently grasp on her forearms.
“Larry’s getting some pizza. He should be back any minute. Are you hungry?”
“Is Larry the drummer?” She asked and he nodded. “Yeah, I could use a little something to eat.”
“Good, come on.”
“Just a little longer…” Her voice came out in a whisper as she leaned into him again, wrapping her arms around him.
Bono looked down at the top of her head, observing the golden, tangled mess from her sleep. He slid his arms around her again, resting his chin against the top of her head. She paid no mind to the stubble on his face, tugging at her hair a little. She turned her head so that her cheek rested on his shoulder and she saw her phone flashing, indicating she had either a message or a text.
“Must’ve rung when you were asleep,” He said, his gaze following hers to the night stand.
“Probably.”
She lifted from his arms, reaching out and grabbed the phone. Her hand curled around it and shoved it into her jeans pocket, ignoring whatever was waiting on it. The singer stood up and grabbed for her arm, gently, pulling her close to him. He lead her out of the guest room and walked her into the living room, where all of his band mates sat around the coffee table, pizza boxes laying in the midst.
“Here,” He eased her down into his seat and knelt down on the floor next to her, ignoring the looks each of his friends were shooting at him.
Grace swallowed hard, looking at each one of them and then at the pizza. Adam, who was sat across from her, nudged the box between the two of them over to her and motioned to it. Bono immediately reached up onto the table and grabbed two pieces, handing one to her. She took it without a word and began to eat it, paying no mind at all to Larry’s very observant gaze. He seemed to watch her, study her, as though he were trying to look into her very soul. She wouldn’t admit it to any of them, but she would to herself – it creeped her out.
“’Ello,” He finally spoke up, nodding his head to her.
“Hi,” She replied, looking up at him, a faint smile was forming on his face.
“I’m Larry. You must be that lovely Grace woman Bono raves about all the time.”
Edge rolled his eyes, eating his pizza quietly. Bono shot him a look in the midst, sticking his tongue out rather childishly at his friend. The bassist mirrored the motion, his eyes rolling skyward.
“Are we ten year olds now?” Adam asked, leaning forward in his spot on the couch.
“He started it,” Bono said accusingly at the guitarist.
“Oh for fuck’s sakes…”
Larry and Grace took their eyes off one another and looked at the rest of the crowd, both of them wearing the same, blank expression. Edge could hardly contain the snort of laughter that ached to come out at the would-be ‘twins’ of their bickering. Bono looked back down at his pizza, ignoring everything else.
“So Grace, are you feeling better?” Adam asked, a hopeful look on his face. This made her feel a little more comfortable.
“Yeah. Sorry about the fit you all saw me have earlier.”
“It’s understandable.”
Edge picked up what had to be his third piece and began to eat it, remaining deathly quiet, a suspicious look on his face. She fought her hardest to keep the urge to ask him what was up at bay. Little did she know that by the look Bono was shooting him, he apparently knew what the guitarist was thinking. Opting to ignore it all, she finished the first piece and reached over the space between the chair and the table to grab another.
The lead man looked up and put his hand on her arm then grabbed it for her, handing it to her. She took it with a ‘thank you’ and began to eat it. She sighed, everything within the last few months going through her head. All of these thoughts consumed her, threatening to swallow her whole. Her mind raced, her emotions swimming. She set down the crust from the second piece of pizza, putting her head in her hands.
Bono set down his food, reaching out for her. “Grace, are you okay?”
“I-I…I don’t know.”
He stood up, putting an arm around her, waiting for a sign, a sentence maybe. She sighed, pulling her hands down from her head and looked at the rest of the guys, who all wore confused expressions, laced with concern for her, never mind the fact that they barely knew her nor she did hardly know them.
“What’s so bad about mother…” She finally spoke up again, looking down at the sleeve of Bono’s jacket before looking directly into his eyes. “You don’t need this…”
“What?” The singer asked, clearly confused.
What? Of course if you knew…you’d never want anything to do with me, would you?
“My parents divorced ‘cause she’s crazy,” She replied, “and that’s all you really need to know.”
Everyone fell silent for a long moment. No one dared to speak up, no one knew what to say. They all watched her curiously, Bono included, waiting to see if she said anything else. She had figured nobody would really buy it. People always figured that they just didn’t get along and that was that. But Bono knew better and it seemed Edge had an idea too.
Bono watched her staring down at the pizza, not speaking a word to her. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, or what to do. It was that he wanted to do more than just offer words. He didn’t want her to feel bad and right now, that was all that mattered to him.
“If you go see her, I’m going too,” He suddenly said, looking down at her, never letting go.
“Thank you…but you don’t have to, I’d really rather not—”
“Well, I’d really rather you not go alone.”
“Okay,” She agreed reluctantly.
A little more information, but still so many questions. Just love it.
