sweetie
Refugee
Cheerio everyone 
We're heading down the home stretch...Just a couple more chapters.
Disclaimer: HELLO HELLO!! Not true!
It had been three weeks since the concert and Gioia was having dinner with her best friend. For the past few weeks she had wanted to tell her everything but couldn’t bring herself to relive the time she had shared with Bono. Also, she really felt as if she were losing her mind!
As soon as she got back home she spent all her free time checking the Internet for some proof that what she had experienced had actually happened. She kept looking for a message from Bono. Something that would tell her that he was trying to contact her. She tried leaving cryptic messages on messages boards. Messages that, perhaps, he would understand if he were looking for them.
The first few days she was so hopeful. Then doubt set in. If he truly wanted to get in touch with her wouldn’t he have already? Unless-unless he was thinking the same thing. That what had happened wasn’t real and that she didn’t exist. Could it be possible? But then that wouldn’t explain why he never responded to the messages she left for him. Sigh. Why would he go on message boards?? Think clearly please!! She was so frustrated. She didn’t know how to contact him. It was impossible.
“Yoo hoo!” Her friend Claudia was trying to get her attention. “Are you alright? You seemed miles away.”
“Sorry.” She mumbled
“So. What are you going to wear to that U2 fan club party?”
Gioia shrugged. She didn’t want to go. This was the first time the fan club ever extended such an invitation. It was specifically for the Propaganda members, the long standing U2 fans. It was at the Four Season’s hotel. Appetizers and wine and schmoozing for Massachusetts fans. She didn’t want to go and mingle with people who would talk about their U2 experiences. It would be too upsetting. And a setback in her determination to move on. She mused without humor that the last clue on their map to Leanan Sidhe had been -
THE ONLY CHANCE TO GO FOREWARD IS TO GO FOREWARD.
Well, she was trying to move on.
****
A week later Gioia was in a cab heading toward the fan club reception. She pulled the invitation out of the envelope and reread it, hoping to see a hidden message.
Dear Miss Gioia Giallonardo,
Propaganda and Principle Management cordially invite you to the first annual complimentary wine reception for U2 fan club members. Formal Dress.
Four Seasons Hotel
Governor’s Ballroom – 7 pm
Gioia sighed and put the card back in its envelope. She wished she didn’t have to do this alone. Her brother received an invitation as well but he had decided not to go.
“Cheer up gorgeous.”
She jumped and looked up at the cab driver. He winked at her through the rear view mirror. “Look at you. You are dressed to the nines and on your way to the Four Seasons, things could be a lot worse couldn’t they?”
She managed a weak smile for him. “Would you like to be my date?” She teased.
He chuckled. “I would love to but my wife would get angry with me, but I’ve got a grandson around your age and I’m sure he’d love to be your date.”
Gioia laughed and silently thanked him for cheering her up a bit. What was she so blue about anyway? Didn’t she already convince herself that it was all a dream? Whether it was from her creation or the work of goddesses and fairies, it was still all a dream. She should congratulate herself on her talented imagination and enjoy the intricate details instead of lamenting the fact that it wasn’t real. True, the details of the dream would be a perfect reason to enter her into the local asylum, but only if she didn’t know how to handle them. So move on, Gioia ! She admonished herself.
The cab pulled up in front of the Four Seasons Hotel. The cab driver shooed away the hotel staff to open Gioia ’s door himself. She sat there for a moment. Her thoughts drifted to Bono of their own accord as she felt the familiar ache take hold. She took a deep breath and took the cab driver’s hand as he helped her from the car.
“Have a nice time tonight miss.” He said kindly. Gioia smiled and thanked him. Some people were so nice.
Gioia took off her coat and handed it to coat check girl. She walked toward the ballroom slowly looking at everyone heading to the reception. They were all chattering in groups. She felt lonelier than ever. She was tempted to just turn around and walk out. She passed a check-in table and she was handed a nametag. She stopped in front of a full-length mirror to make sure the tag was on evenly. She looked at her reflection and was halted by her mirror image. It was as if she was seeing herself for the first time in weeks. Her hair was a soft and shiny chocolate brown. Its rich waves curled against her cheek and along her neck. The dress she wore was black crepe. It was a sleeveless creation with a simple scoop neck. The low back of the dress dipped to her waist and the hemline skimmed the floor. The dress hugged her curves and she surprised herself by admitting that despite her melancholy, she looked attractive tonight.
She sighed and walked to the ballroom. Inside she was at a loss as what to do next. This wasn’t a sit down dinner with assigned seating. It was a wine reception with gloved waiters serving hors d'oeuvres and stations displaying a variety of wines and champagnes. On one wall there was a projection screen showing clips from U2 concerts. On other walls there were pictures and posters of the four members of the band.
Gioia’s heart contracted as she focused her attention on Bono, seeing his image for the first time since Rio. So handsome. His smile. His blue eyes. Even without concentrating, she could still picture him in front of her. Hear his voice.
I love you.
She had avoided him and U2 completely. She had not wanted to see his picture or read about him because the pain was so profound. She had come to know him personally. He was her friend. He had become her love and she was his. How could she let that go? She didn’t want to!
She looked around the room as tears streamed down her face. She wanted to run away, but instead she spotted a table indicating that the people seated there were from Principle Management. She was going to talk to them. She needed to find a way to get in contact with Bono. She’ll do anything! She’ll disguise herself as a reporter or an interviewer. She needed to find out for sure what happened to him when Aine cast him out.
She took a few frantic steps forward when she heard a woman clear her throat. She turned and saw her with a microphone in hand standing on the small stage in the corner of the room.
“May I have your attention please?” She called out to the room. All the guests stopped talking and some even took seats.
“My name is Caroline Ross. We would like to welcome you all to the First Annual Propaganda fan club reception. This year we are honoring Massachusetts fans.” The crowd cheered and applauded.
The woman continued. “I would like to thank Principle Management for helping us to pull together this memorable first.”
Gioia looked over at the Principle table and her heart dropped. There! Standing near the table, leaning against the far wall was a honey haired beauty in a lilac silk gown. She smiled at Gioia .
Aisling?
“And it’s because of Principle Management that is it my sublime pleasure to welcome our very special guest—“
Gioia dragged her eyes away from Aisling and back to the stage.
“—and the very person who suggested this get together. Please welcome a man who absolutely needs no introduction!
The voice, the heart and the attitude of U2 - Bono!”
And with that, he walked out onto the stage. He stood there for a moment while waiting for the applause and cheers to die down. Then he spoke. Using that beautiful voice.
Gioia heard none of it. Her world was crashing down on her. The blood drained from her face and she felt physically shocked by the sight of him. She was surprised she was still standing, the emotions were so overwhelming. She looked over to where Aisling stood and she was gone. She looked back at Bono. He was dressed in a dark navy suit with a light blue shirt, open at the throat, rosary exposed. Did she really think that she could force herself to forget the way he looked? Sweet Lord! She remembered the way he smelled!! But most of all she could still remember the way he felt.
Look at me! She willed him to look her way. But he continued his speech to his adoring fans. It was hard to tell who he was looking at since his wrap around shades masked his eyes. She counted herself lucky to have had access to those amazing eyes sans glasses for the many weeks that they were—--?---where exactly were they? Over the rainbow?
Looking at him up on stage brought it home to her that it was truly over. Truly over or maybe never existed. She drew in a ragged breath. She felt as if she were in pain. Her heart was beating hard and her skin ached. She was flushed with emotion. She needed to get out of there fast.
She turned on her heel and practically ran out of the ballroom. She didn’t look right or left, just walked directly to the heavy ballroom doors that would put a physical barrier between her and Bono.
She stepped outside of the ballroom and she could hear the muffled applause as Bono finished his speech. She walked away slowly, heading toward the coatroom. She wiped the tears away and took a deep breath to calm herself. She could still hear the applause and she tried to shut herself down so she couldn’t picture Bono standing at the podium.
All of a sudden she could no longer hear the applause and cheering. They had stopped abruptly. A moment later she heard the ballroom door open.
“Gioia?”
Gioia whirled around. Bono stood at the double door. Next to him was security with earplug and mouthpiece, frantically tugging at his arm. Beyond them Gioia could see the confused looks and noticed the shocked silence. Had he run clear across the room?
The blood drained from her body, leaving her in a cold sweat. She searched his face for recognition.
“Do-Do you know me?” She whispered.
Bono untangled his arm from security. He said something to the man and to the Principle woman who was standing behind him and they closed the doors, leaving him alone with Gioia .
He took off his shades, stuck them in his suit pocket, and smiled warmly at her.
“Hi beautiful Gioia from Massachusetts.”
Gioia hesitated a moment before flying into his arms.
Until tomorrow my friends
We're heading down the home stretch...Just a couple more chapters.
Disclaimer: HELLO HELLO!! Not true!
It had been three weeks since the concert and Gioia was having dinner with her best friend. For the past few weeks she had wanted to tell her everything but couldn’t bring herself to relive the time she had shared with Bono. Also, she really felt as if she were losing her mind!
As soon as she got back home she spent all her free time checking the Internet for some proof that what she had experienced had actually happened. She kept looking for a message from Bono. Something that would tell her that he was trying to contact her. She tried leaving cryptic messages on messages boards. Messages that, perhaps, he would understand if he were looking for them.
The first few days she was so hopeful. Then doubt set in. If he truly wanted to get in touch with her wouldn’t he have already? Unless-unless he was thinking the same thing. That what had happened wasn’t real and that she didn’t exist. Could it be possible? But then that wouldn’t explain why he never responded to the messages she left for him. Sigh. Why would he go on message boards?? Think clearly please!! She was so frustrated. She didn’t know how to contact him. It was impossible.
“Yoo hoo!” Her friend Claudia was trying to get her attention. “Are you alright? You seemed miles away.”
“Sorry.” She mumbled
“So. What are you going to wear to that U2 fan club party?”
Gioia shrugged. She didn’t want to go. This was the first time the fan club ever extended such an invitation. It was specifically for the Propaganda members, the long standing U2 fans. It was at the Four Season’s hotel. Appetizers and wine and schmoozing for Massachusetts fans. She didn’t want to go and mingle with people who would talk about their U2 experiences. It would be too upsetting. And a setback in her determination to move on. She mused without humor that the last clue on their map to Leanan Sidhe had been -
THE ONLY CHANCE TO GO FOREWARD IS TO GO FOREWARD.
Well, she was trying to move on.
****
A week later Gioia was in a cab heading toward the fan club reception. She pulled the invitation out of the envelope and reread it, hoping to see a hidden message.
Dear Miss Gioia Giallonardo,
Propaganda and Principle Management cordially invite you to the first annual complimentary wine reception for U2 fan club members. Formal Dress.
Four Seasons Hotel
Governor’s Ballroom – 7 pm
Gioia sighed and put the card back in its envelope. She wished she didn’t have to do this alone. Her brother received an invitation as well but he had decided not to go.
“Cheer up gorgeous.”
She jumped and looked up at the cab driver. He winked at her through the rear view mirror. “Look at you. You are dressed to the nines and on your way to the Four Seasons, things could be a lot worse couldn’t they?”
She managed a weak smile for him. “Would you like to be my date?” She teased.
He chuckled. “I would love to but my wife would get angry with me, but I’ve got a grandson around your age and I’m sure he’d love to be your date.”
Gioia laughed and silently thanked him for cheering her up a bit. What was she so blue about anyway? Didn’t she already convince herself that it was all a dream? Whether it was from her creation or the work of goddesses and fairies, it was still all a dream. She should congratulate herself on her talented imagination and enjoy the intricate details instead of lamenting the fact that it wasn’t real. True, the details of the dream would be a perfect reason to enter her into the local asylum, but only if she didn’t know how to handle them. So move on, Gioia ! She admonished herself.
The cab pulled up in front of the Four Seasons Hotel. The cab driver shooed away the hotel staff to open Gioia ’s door himself. She sat there for a moment. Her thoughts drifted to Bono of their own accord as she felt the familiar ache take hold. She took a deep breath and took the cab driver’s hand as he helped her from the car.
“Have a nice time tonight miss.” He said kindly. Gioia smiled and thanked him. Some people were so nice.
Gioia took off her coat and handed it to coat check girl. She walked toward the ballroom slowly looking at everyone heading to the reception. They were all chattering in groups. She felt lonelier than ever. She was tempted to just turn around and walk out. She passed a check-in table and she was handed a nametag. She stopped in front of a full-length mirror to make sure the tag was on evenly. She looked at her reflection and was halted by her mirror image. It was as if she was seeing herself for the first time in weeks. Her hair was a soft and shiny chocolate brown. Its rich waves curled against her cheek and along her neck. The dress she wore was black crepe. It was a sleeveless creation with a simple scoop neck. The low back of the dress dipped to her waist and the hemline skimmed the floor. The dress hugged her curves and she surprised herself by admitting that despite her melancholy, she looked attractive tonight.
She sighed and walked to the ballroom. Inside she was at a loss as what to do next. This wasn’t a sit down dinner with assigned seating. It was a wine reception with gloved waiters serving hors d'oeuvres and stations displaying a variety of wines and champagnes. On one wall there was a projection screen showing clips from U2 concerts. On other walls there were pictures and posters of the four members of the band.
Gioia’s heart contracted as she focused her attention on Bono, seeing his image for the first time since Rio. So handsome. His smile. His blue eyes. Even without concentrating, she could still picture him in front of her. Hear his voice.
I love you.
She had avoided him and U2 completely. She had not wanted to see his picture or read about him because the pain was so profound. She had come to know him personally. He was her friend. He had become her love and she was his. How could she let that go? She didn’t want to!
She looked around the room as tears streamed down her face. She wanted to run away, but instead she spotted a table indicating that the people seated there were from Principle Management. She was going to talk to them. She needed to find a way to get in contact with Bono. She’ll do anything! She’ll disguise herself as a reporter or an interviewer. She needed to find out for sure what happened to him when Aine cast him out.
She took a few frantic steps forward when she heard a woman clear her throat. She turned and saw her with a microphone in hand standing on the small stage in the corner of the room.
“May I have your attention please?” She called out to the room. All the guests stopped talking and some even took seats.
“My name is Caroline Ross. We would like to welcome you all to the First Annual Propaganda fan club reception. This year we are honoring Massachusetts fans.” The crowd cheered and applauded.
The woman continued. “I would like to thank Principle Management for helping us to pull together this memorable first.”
Gioia looked over at the Principle table and her heart dropped. There! Standing near the table, leaning against the far wall was a honey haired beauty in a lilac silk gown. She smiled at Gioia .
Aisling?
“And it’s because of Principle Management that is it my sublime pleasure to welcome our very special guest—“
Gioia dragged her eyes away from Aisling and back to the stage.
“—and the very person who suggested this get together. Please welcome a man who absolutely needs no introduction!
The voice, the heart and the attitude of U2 - Bono!”
And with that, he walked out onto the stage. He stood there for a moment while waiting for the applause and cheers to die down. Then he spoke. Using that beautiful voice.
Gioia heard none of it. Her world was crashing down on her. The blood drained from her face and she felt physically shocked by the sight of him. She was surprised she was still standing, the emotions were so overwhelming. She looked over to where Aisling stood and she was gone. She looked back at Bono. He was dressed in a dark navy suit with a light blue shirt, open at the throat, rosary exposed. Did she really think that she could force herself to forget the way he looked? Sweet Lord! She remembered the way he smelled!! But most of all she could still remember the way he felt.
Look at me! She willed him to look her way. But he continued his speech to his adoring fans. It was hard to tell who he was looking at since his wrap around shades masked his eyes. She counted herself lucky to have had access to those amazing eyes sans glasses for the many weeks that they were—--?---where exactly were they? Over the rainbow?
Looking at him up on stage brought it home to her that it was truly over. Truly over or maybe never existed. She drew in a ragged breath. She felt as if she were in pain. Her heart was beating hard and her skin ached. She was flushed with emotion. She needed to get out of there fast.
She turned on her heel and practically ran out of the ballroom. She didn’t look right or left, just walked directly to the heavy ballroom doors that would put a physical barrier between her and Bono.
She stepped outside of the ballroom and she could hear the muffled applause as Bono finished his speech. She walked away slowly, heading toward the coatroom. She wiped the tears away and took a deep breath to calm herself. She could still hear the applause and she tried to shut herself down so she couldn’t picture Bono standing at the podium.
All of a sudden she could no longer hear the applause and cheering. They had stopped abruptly. A moment later she heard the ballroom door open.
“Gioia?”
Gioia whirled around. Bono stood at the double door. Next to him was security with earplug and mouthpiece, frantically tugging at his arm. Beyond them Gioia could see the confused looks and noticed the shocked silence. Had he run clear across the room?
The blood drained from her body, leaving her in a cold sweat. She searched his face for recognition.
“Do-Do you know me?” She whispered.
Bono untangled his arm from security. He said something to the man and to the Principle woman who was standing behind him and they closed the doors, leaving him alone with Gioia .
He took off his shades, stuck them in his suit pocket, and smiled warmly at her.
“Hi beautiful Gioia from Massachusetts.”
Gioia hesitated a moment before flying into his arms.
Until tomorrow my friends
