Sad_Girl
Blue Crack Supplier
Wow, three chapters in two days... you'd think I could find something better to do with my vacation. 
Disclaimer: Though the author spends much time pondering the subject, she has absolutely no insight to U2's true feelings and reactions. This is all a work of her imagination, reflections of her perceptions. None of it is real, true or ever will be.
Chapter three: Honor among thieves
After they’d finished ‘Beast of Burden’, Bono led U2 into ‘Elevation’, the crowd loving every note, every word, every little movement the man made. Bono winked at Cat halfway through the song. He was meeting her challenge and raising it.
Cat turned to her band and told them what song she wanted to follow with. They thought she was crazy, but she didn’t give them time to argue. She slipped around the side of a column of speakers and climbed onto the shelf above with the microphone handle clenched between her teeth. She had originally used this platform in the performance but it had been cut after they decided it was took too much time for her to climb up onto the pseudo-catwalk. As they were taking turns and performing alternately, however, she had plenty of time to climb up to her perch.
“She’s gone insane!” Alex muttered, watching as she gestured to the men in the control booth. She usually brought the show to it’s climax from up top, then returned to the main stage below for an encore. The stage and then the shelves added several feet, so when she stood up she would be at least three feet over Bono’s head, if he were to stand directly beneath the shelf.
As soon as the last chords were played on ‘I will follow’ Tequila monster started playing again, and every head turned at the sound that came out of their instruments. Did they really have the gall to play one of U2’s own songs? Many people stared in open mouthed shock as the spotlight turned on to reveal Cat perched high above the stage.
“I was born a child of grace…” She sang, and Adam couldn’t repress the snicker which escaped his lips, especially once he saw the look on Bono’s face. “Nothing else about the place; Everything was ugly but your beautiful face, and it left me no illusion!” She sang out loud and clear, it was obviously a song they had covered more than once. Bono turned his mic back on and lifted it to his lips.
“I saw you in the curve of the moon, In the shadow cast across my room. You heard me in my tune when I just heard confusion!” he sang, and the crowd went even crazier than before. They thought the competitive tension between the two had been staged, and they were eating it up.
“All because of you!”
“All because of you!” they sang out in alternating lines, the chorus becoming a dueling voices contest between the two.
“I always like the sound of my own voice…”
“Never gave anyone else the choice…”
“An intellectual tortoise, racing with your bullet train.” They sang alternately, straight through the next verse, but the next time they came to the chorus, neither of them stopped. The power of their voices combined shook the rafters, and the energy in the room crackled.
When Alex faltered at one point, Larry was quick to take over the drumming, Edge throwing in a new harmony with a counterpart to Krash’s imitation of Edge’s original guitar part. Had this been staged, they would have surely left it for last, even as they brought the song to a close they all recognized it was going to be damn hard to top.
After a prolonged wave of cheers and riotous noise from the audience, Bono led his mates into another of their standards, bringing the energy back down to a more manageable level. The security who had been with the band through a lot of different circumstances, were getting a bit nervous at the excitement levels amongst some of the audience. Rock and Roll was a drug, like any other, which could cause people to do crazy things when over-used.
Then it was Gunnar’s turn to take the microphone now, not to sing again but because to address the audience. His voice was deep, full of grit; and as opposite of Bono’s velvet smooth voice as possible.
“Some of you know that Charlene and I are soul mates. Lovers, best friends, and hopelessly entangled in each others lives since we were ten years old.” He continued. His serious tone of voice brought the audience to a near hush.
“For the past three years, Charlene has been living with and dying of AIDS. For the past three years, I have tested negative time and time again. I have fallen to my knees and thanked God and I have shaken my fist at him and cursed his sick sense of justice.” He continued.
Everyone could feel it in the air. There was a bomb dangling above their heads, and Gunnar had his finger on the button. Cat exchanged worried glances with Alex, neither of them having been informed that Gunnar would be making this speech. He’d never practiced it in the two months they’d been preparing.
“Just a little less than a week ago, I got tested again.” He continued, running a hand over his shaved head and beginning to pace with the mic in hand. “If you’ve never been tested, I can tell you it’s not particularly difficult. It doesn’t take long, although sometimes waiting for the results seems like years.”
The audience laughed slightly, imagining the anxiety of waiting for something so important.
“The thing is, you can’t ever say who it’s going to happen to. No matter how good of a life you think you lead, no matter how ‘clean’ you think the people you associate with are. I mean, sure there are things you can do to help protect yourself. Things you SHOULD do. But that doesn’t mean you’re immune. You need to protect the people around you, and you need to know.”
“AIDS is not a disease which discriminates as so many people believe. I could list thousands of names to prove to you that someone out there with whom each and every one of you can identify has been diagnosed with AIDS. I won’t do that, don’t worry. We’ll get back to the music in a second.” He told them with that awful, sad smile of his and the crowd murmured with laughter.
“I will say two names tonight. I will say Ryan White, the name most infamously associated with the horrible injustices of having AIDS in our society. A name to remind everyone that AIDS is not a punishment for sin.” He said, pausing respectfully. “And Gunnar Stevens.” He announced, his voice wavering slightly.
“As I stand here before you tonight, asking you to help us raise awareness of the AIDS crisis, asking you for your time, your money, or your attention. I do so not only as a musician. I stand here asking you to understand that each of us needs to face this disease as individuals. I stand here, a man diagnosed with AIDS after living for YEARS without signs or symptoms.”
Cat rushed forward to wrap an arm around her friend, choking as her throat closed with all the emotions churning up in her belly.
“Thank you all, so much, for being here tonight.” He said, pushing the tears from his eyes with the heel of one hand and sniffling in embarrassment. “Because just by choosing not to look away, you are already making a difference.”
Those in the arena who were not already standing rose to their feet and began to applaud, the sound swelling like approaching thunder. Bono propelled himself forward quickly, embracing both Gunnar and Cat who was still clinging to her friend. Edge was close behind, patting the man on the back. Adam and Larry both clapped with the audience.
“Courage.” Bono said, speaking into the microphone but addressing the audience as naturally as he would a small, intimate gathering of friends. “That’s what I call courage.” He repeated, pausing to applaud, encouraging the audience to continue to do so as well. Alex had come forward to hug his brother now, and Krash stood nearby, his usual awkward silence intact but his eyes telling Gunnar all he felt inside.
“I was planning on singing this song for Charlene tonight.” Gunnar announced as the noise faded slightly. “But I don’t do it all that well, frankly, and it would be a fucking tragedy for me to ruin such a perfect song when the people who created it are here. Bono, guys, would you perform ‘One’ for my girl?”
The crowd roared in encouragement of that suggestion, and Bono nodded quickly. Cat had already returned Adam’s bass to it’s stand when she moved forward to stand by Gunnar’s side, and Edge had never put his guitar down at all. So the men quickly and smoothly transitioned into ‘One’, every heart in the arena open to it’s message on this night.
After performing ‘One’ and ‘Pride’, the members of Tequila Monster had still not reappeared on stage. Bono consulted briefly with Larry who moved forward to take the mic and entertain the crowd with his charming rendition of a couple traditional Irish drinking songs. The crowd was more than eager to welcome the handsome man to the spotlight, many of them with playful cat calls and wolf whistles.
Bono moved backstage to find the band seated in their dressing room, deeply engrossed in a quiet but intense conversation. He cleared his throat, stepping just inside the doorway.
“Just wanted to know if you were gonna want to come back out or if we should close the show ourselves.” He asked, glancing nervously around the room and feeling like an intruder. Gunnar had his arms around his little brother, he himself having made his peace with the news. Now, though he was the one diagnosed, he was the one acting as the comforter and caregiver.
Krash stood awkwardly leaning against the wall, his hands buried in his pockets. It was unusual to see the man without a guitar in his hands, and it was clear he was at a loss for how to behave. Cat leaned against the vanity with one hip, her arms crossed over her chest. Her green eyes were dark, full of shadows. It shocked him that he saw there were no tears there, though. Her eyes were not red, nor welling with unspilled tears and her cheeks were dry. More than anything, she looked angry.
“Of course we’re going to finish.” She said, and the others started to pull themselves together. “We’ll just do one more. How close are you guys to wrapping it up? We’ll do ours and then you can have the finale.”
“We can go on all night, just come on out when you’re, eh, ready.” He told, pursing his lips expressively. She smirked and arched an eyebrow at him.
“All night, huh? Well that’s good to know. But we’ll be out in just five, ten minutes.” She told him. She loved the way he chuckled at her joke, the way his entire face transformed when he smiled.
She’d never met anyone quite so full of life. Bono turned and headed for the stage, until he felt something tug at his waistband. He turned and blinked at her in surprise and waited for her to speak.
“Thanks. I mean… for this, I was kind of bitchy about it earlier, but you guys really saved the show tonight.” She told him, and he smiled slightly.
“It’s what we do.” He told her. “For what it’s worth, I’m genuinely glad we got to be here tonight; to steal your show.” He informed her and she rolled her eyes at him, before dropping her eyes to the floor, suddenly feeling shy. “In fact, I know tonight’s not the right time, but I’d like to sit down with you and talk about your music.” Her head snapped up, her eyes moving from the spot on the floor which she’d been studying to meet his gaze.
“What?”
“I think you guys are great. Thought maybe we should work together on something. Officially, this time.” He informed her, bestowing upon her one of his broad smiles before turning and walking away. She stood there for a long time, listening to hear his voice as he returned to the stage. Her world had been turned on it’s ear twice in one night. She had to laugh as U2 started to play ‘Vertigo’. She had Vertigo all right, and she had a whole new appreciation for the song tonight.
***************
-Ok, I have some thoughts with which I can continue this series, but I want to know if it's something worth sharing. Let me know if you'd like to read more!
Disclaimer: Though the author spends much time pondering the subject, she has absolutely no insight to U2's true feelings and reactions. This is all a work of her imagination, reflections of her perceptions. None of it is real, true or ever will be.
Chapter three: Honor among thieves
After they’d finished ‘Beast of Burden’, Bono led U2 into ‘Elevation’, the crowd loving every note, every word, every little movement the man made. Bono winked at Cat halfway through the song. He was meeting her challenge and raising it.
Cat turned to her band and told them what song she wanted to follow with. They thought she was crazy, but she didn’t give them time to argue. She slipped around the side of a column of speakers and climbed onto the shelf above with the microphone handle clenched between her teeth. She had originally used this platform in the performance but it had been cut after they decided it was took too much time for her to climb up onto the pseudo-catwalk. As they were taking turns and performing alternately, however, she had plenty of time to climb up to her perch.
“She’s gone insane!” Alex muttered, watching as she gestured to the men in the control booth. She usually brought the show to it’s climax from up top, then returned to the main stage below for an encore. The stage and then the shelves added several feet, so when she stood up she would be at least three feet over Bono’s head, if he were to stand directly beneath the shelf.
As soon as the last chords were played on ‘I will follow’ Tequila monster started playing again, and every head turned at the sound that came out of their instruments. Did they really have the gall to play one of U2’s own songs? Many people stared in open mouthed shock as the spotlight turned on to reveal Cat perched high above the stage.
“I was born a child of grace…” She sang, and Adam couldn’t repress the snicker which escaped his lips, especially once he saw the look on Bono’s face. “Nothing else about the place; Everything was ugly but your beautiful face, and it left me no illusion!” She sang out loud and clear, it was obviously a song they had covered more than once. Bono turned his mic back on and lifted it to his lips.
“I saw you in the curve of the moon, In the shadow cast across my room. You heard me in my tune when I just heard confusion!” he sang, and the crowd went even crazier than before. They thought the competitive tension between the two had been staged, and they were eating it up.
“All because of you!”
“All because of you!” they sang out in alternating lines, the chorus becoming a dueling voices contest between the two.
“I always like the sound of my own voice…”
“Never gave anyone else the choice…”
“An intellectual tortoise, racing with your bullet train.” They sang alternately, straight through the next verse, but the next time they came to the chorus, neither of them stopped. The power of their voices combined shook the rafters, and the energy in the room crackled.
When Alex faltered at one point, Larry was quick to take over the drumming, Edge throwing in a new harmony with a counterpart to Krash’s imitation of Edge’s original guitar part. Had this been staged, they would have surely left it for last, even as they brought the song to a close they all recognized it was going to be damn hard to top.
After a prolonged wave of cheers and riotous noise from the audience, Bono led his mates into another of their standards, bringing the energy back down to a more manageable level. The security who had been with the band through a lot of different circumstances, were getting a bit nervous at the excitement levels amongst some of the audience. Rock and Roll was a drug, like any other, which could cause people to do crazy things when over-used.
Then it was Gunnar’s turn to take the microphone now, not to sing again but because to address the audience. His voice was deep, full of grit; and as opposite of Bono’s velvet smooth voice as possible.
“Some of you know that Charlene and I are soul mates. Lovers, best friends, and hopelessly entangled in each others lives since we were ten years old.” He continued. His serious tone of voice brought the audience to a near hush.
“For the past three years, Charlene has been living with and dying of AIDS. For the past three years, I have tested negative time and time again. I have fallen to my knees and thanked God and I have shaken my fist at him and cursed his sick sense of justice.” He continued.
Everyone could feel it in the air. There was a bomb dangling above their heads, and Gunnar had his finger on the button. Cat exchanged worried glances with Alex, neither of them having been informed that Gunnar would be making this speech. He’d never practiced it in the two months they’d been preparing.
“Just a little less than a week ago, I got tested again.” He continued, running a hand over his shaved head and beginning to pace with the mic in hand. “If you’ve never been tested, I can tell you it’s not particularly difficult. It doesn’t take long, although sometimes waiting for the results seems like years.”
The audience laughed slightly, imagining the anxiety of waiting for something so important.
“The thing is, you can’t ever say who it’s going to happen to. No matter how good of a life you think you lead, no matter how ‘clean’ you think the people you associate with are. I mean, sure there are things you can do to help protect yourself. Things you SHOULD do. But that doesn’t mean you’re immune. You need to protect the people around you, and you need to know.”
“AIDS is not a disease which discriminates as so many people believe. I could list thousands of names to prove to you that someone out there with whom each and every one of you can identify has been diagnosed with AIDS. I won’t do that, don’t worry. We’ll get back to the music in a second.” He told them with that awful, sad smile of his and the crowd murmured with laughter.
“I will say two names tonight. I will say Ryan White, the name most infamously associated with the horrible injustices of having AIDS in our society. A name to remind everyone that AIDS is not a punishment for sin.” He said, pausing respectfully. “And Gunnar Stevens.” He announced, his voice wavering slightly.
“As I stand here before you tonight, asking you to help us raise awareness of the AIDS crisis, asking you for your time, your money, or your attention. I do so not only as a musician. I stand here asking you to understand that each of us needs to face this disease as individuals. I stand here, a man diagnosed with AIDS after living for YEARS without signs or symptoms.”
Cat rushed forward to wrap an arm around her friend, choking as her throat closed with all the emotions churning up in her belly.
“Thank you all, so much, for being here tonight.” He said, pushing the tears from his eyes with the heel of one hand and sniffling in embarrassment. “Because just by choosing not to look away, you are already making a difference.”
Those in the arena who were not already standing rose to their feet and began to applaud, the sound swelling like approaching thunder. Bono propelled himself forward quickly, embracing both Gunnar and Cat who was still clinging to her friend. Edge was close behind, patting the man on the back. Adam and Larry both clapped with the audience.
“Courage.” Bono said, speaking into the microphone but addressing the audience as naturally as he would a small, intimate gathering of friends. “That’s what I call courage.” He repeated, pausing to applaud, encouraging the audience to continue to do so as well. Alex had come forward to hug his brother now, and Krash stood nearby, his usual awkward silence intact but his eyes telling Gunnar all he felt inside.
“I was planning on singing this song for Charlene tonight.” Gunnar announced as the noise faded slightly. “But I don’t do it all that well, frankly, and it would be a fucking tragedy for me to ruin such a perfect song when the people who created it are here. Bono, guys, would you perform ‘One’ for my girl?”
The crowd roared in encouragement of that suggestion, and Bono nodded quickly. Cat had already returned Adam’s bass to it’s stand when she moved forward to stand by Gunnar’s side, and Edge had never put his guitar down at all. So the men quickly and smoothly transitioned into ‘One’, every heart in the arena open to it’s message on this night.
After performing ‘One’ and ‘Pride’, the members of Tequila Monster had still not reappeared on stage. Bono consulted briefly with Larry who moved forward to take the mic and entertain the crowd with his charming rendition of a couple traditional Irish drinking songs. The crowd was more than eager to welcome the handsome man to the spotlight, many of them with playful cat calls and wolf whistles.
Bono moved backstage to find the band seated in their dressing room, deeply engrossed in a quiet but intense conversation. He cleared his throat, stepping just inside the doorway.
“Just wanted to know if you were gonna want to come back out or if we should close the show ourselves.” He asked, glancing nervously around the room and feeling like an intruder. Gunnar had his arms around his little brother, he himself having made his peace with the news. Now, though he was the one diagnosed, he was the one acting as the comforter and caregiver.
Krash stood awkwardly leaning against the wall, his hands buried in his pockets. It was unusual to see the man without a guitar in his hands, and it was clear he was at a loss for how to behave. Cat leaned against the vanity with one hip, her arms crossed over her chest. Her green eyes were dark, full of shadows. It shocked him that he saw there were no tears there, though. Her eyes were not red, nor welling with unspilled tears and her cheeks were dry. More than anything, she looked angry.
“Of course we’re going to finish.” She said, and the others started to pull themselves together. “We’ll just do one more. How close are you guys to wrapping it up? We’ll do ours and then you can have the finale.”
“We can go on all night, just come on out when you’re, eh, ready.” He told, pursing his lips expressively. She smirked and arched an eyebrow at him.
“All night, huh? Well that’s good to know. But we’ll be out in just five, ten minutes.” She told him. She loved the way he chuckled at her joke, the way his entire face transformed when he smiled.
She’d never met anyone quite so full of life. Bono turned and headed for the stage, until he felt something tug at his waistband. He turned and blinked at her in surprise and waited for her to speak.
“Thanks. I mean… for this, I was kind of bitchy about it earlier, but you guys really saved the show tonight.” She told him, and he smiled slightly.
“It’s what we do.” He told her. “For what it’s worth, I’m genuinely glad we got to be here tonight; to steal your show.” He informed her and she rolled her eyes at him, before dropping her eyes to the floor, suddenly feeling shy. “In fact, I know tonight’s not the right time, but I’d like to sit down with you and talk about your music.” Her head snapped up, her eyes moving from the spot on the floor which she’d been studying to meet his gaze.
“What?”
“I think you guys are great. Thought maybe we should work together on something. Officially, this time.” He informed her, bestowing upon her one of his broad smiles before turning and walking away. She stood there for a long time, listening to hear his voice as he returned to the stage. Her world had been turned on it’s ear twice in one night. She had to laugh as U2 started to play ‘Vertigo’. She had Vertigo all right, and she had a whole new appreciation for the song tonight.
***************
-Ok, I have some thoughts with which I can continue this series, but I want to know if it's something worth sharing. Let me know if you'd like to read more!
please continue, oh great story teller
This is exciting... will it develop into a kind of Bono/Adam/Cat love triangle? Yummy.
