secretly alone
Rock n' Roll Doggie FOB
Here's the first chapter. Again I feel like it's a little slow, but it picks up next chapter, I promise!
~No matter how deliriously tired I am, I must still remind you that this is fiction~
November 30th, 1986
I almost wanted to laugh at how Bono was struggling to keep up with me as I nearly race-walked though JFK. He had given up on trying to sneakily grab my hand. I wasn't having it. Usually it would be the other way around. Bono moved fast, he was always moving, never sitting still. I was working hard to walk faster than him, and working even harder to ignore him. I only slowed down when we hit a turnstyle, quickly lifting the suitcase I was rolling and walking through. I heard a deep grunt behind me. "UNGH." Whirling around, I saw Bono grabbing himself with an extreme look of pain on his face. I snorted and put my arm around him. "Poor klutz. Are you ok?" Angry as I was, I felt bad. He nodded, and thinking that he had won, went to put his arm around me. "Good," I said curtly, wiggling out of his grasp. Now that I thought of it, he probably did that on purpose. Hell, I wasn't looking, maybe the turnstyle didn't even whack him in the crotch at all! Now I felt even angrier.
I sat with my arms folded, staring straight ahead, a perfect picture of the silent treatment. It didn't usually work for me, but I was so angry that I was determined to make it work this time. Except I kept peeking at Bono out of the corner of my eye. That wasn't helping. I had deliberately sat so there were two seats between us, hoping someone would sit in one of them, but alas, no one had. He had a pensive look on his face, his eyes cast into his lap. His eyelashes appeared to graze his freckled cheeks. His hair was pulled into a neat, smooth little ponytail. I tried not to notice how his shirt was halfway unbuttoned. I reminded myself why I was so angry at him. Truthfully, I was angry at what he'd done, not at him. But I wanted him to feel my wrath, and damnit, I wasn't giving up.
Then, wouldn't you know it, he was trying to inch his way closer to me. I attempted to cross my arms even more firmly, succeeding only in hurting my ribs. Looking away from him didn't stop me from knowing how close he was getting to me. I was overtaken by the thick, musky scent of his cologne, and I almost melted right onto the floor. I couldn't remember why I was angry...wait, yes, now I remembered. Bono brushed his lips over my ear, down my neck...I could feel hot breath, a little stubble...oh, hell. "You're a little brat, you know that?" I said as evenly as possible. "You wouldn't talk to me, what was I supposed to do?" He was giving me that look, the hurt puppy one that I just couldn't look away from. I sighed and scooted closer to him. "It's SO hard to be mad at you!" He grinned. "Good. Because I hate when you're mad at me. Or act mad at me, anyway. I'm sorry, Lilly. I didn't think you would take it like that." I snuggled even closer and toyed with his exposed chest hair. "You just can't do that. It's like we're a team, and if you side with them, you weaken our defense! And then it would only get worse and more annoying every time we visit. If my mom can get you on her side, that's it, she's unstoppable." Bono laughed. "Why do we have to have 'sides'? All I said was that you were being kind of harsh, and that I understand where she's coming from. They're your parents, they raised you. They're gonna want to see you more than twice a year." I groaned. "Maybe I'll just send you over. You can visit them for a few days, that'll satisfy them. You're the one they're more interested in seeing anyway." He made a face that clearly said he thought I was crazy. "Why the hell would they be more interested in seeing me?" "Because," I said, propping my arm on his shoulder, "you're interesting! They're absurdly proud of you. I know for a fact that my mother carries pictures of us in her wallet, and you can bet she gushes a lot more about you. I'm not saying that bitterly, it makes sense. Look at everything you've done. All I did was marry you. They're proud of that, for sure. They have enough pride in me for that to last a lifetime!"
At first, my parents, particularly my mom, were less than thrilled about the life I'd chosen to lead, although they loved Bono. Then they went through of phase of acceptance, followed by near obsession with Bono. That definitely coincided with U2's sudden rise to being loved worldwide. I believed that now they simply wanted to see their daughter and son-in-law as much as possible, but I'd said that to Bono because I was annoyed at his siding with them. Not that I didn't want to see them, but him sticking up for my mom while I was in the middle of arguing with her pissed me off. We visited them every Thanksgiving, among other scattered visits, and each time the same topic came up- why we don't visit more.
Bono was still looking at me like I was slightly insane. "And Bono, they could come see us more often if they miss us so much! We shouldn't always have to be the ones to go there!" He was smiling now. "Shh, Lilly, don't yell!" I looked around at the many napping passengers in the terminal. Oops. "Listen, I have an idea, I've been thinking about this. Maybe we could buy an apartment in New York. We could stay there maybe a month or two out of the year, and that way we could see them more." He may as well have just suggested the swinging lifestyle to me. "Are you kidding me? If you're serious, then you're insane." He winced. "Are you going to get all pissed at me again?" I laughed. "I think that was about all I can take for the rest of the year." "Then yes, I'm serious. Why not?" "Because! That goes against everything I've worked for, to separate myself, to declare my independence...it would be a huge step backwards for me, Bono." "But you love New York!" Now I was getting annoyed at him. "Are you even listening to me? Do you understand what I'm saying, or are you just being a stupid man and only paying attention to what you have to say?" He chuckled. "Actually, I understand exactly what you mean. You leaving home, moving to Dublin, and refusing to compromise was you establishing yourself as an adult. That told your family that it was your life, and therefore yours to control, not theirs." He had put it into better words than even I could. "Yes," I said. "Exactly." Bono stroked my cheek. "I can read your heart like a book, girly. I'm always listening." The feeling of being understood perfectly overwhelmed me. I snuggled into him and he responded immediately, wrapping his arms around me tightly and kissing my hair. I sighed. Why the hell would I ever try to be angry with him? Having him love me was the greatest feeling in the world.
"All I'm saying, love, is that you've already made your point. Now this is about your lasting relationship with your parents." Bono had been adamant on that from the very beginning. I remembered the conversation we had when I realized why.
"Why? Because I haven't got a mother, Lilly. But you do. You have to talk to your parents, Lilly. You have to have a relationship with them. Because if you don't...you could end up regretting it someday. You'll regret all the things you never got to say or do. And that's a terrible feeling that I never, ever want you to feel."
My chest tightened at the memory. Looking at him now, I felt so sad that he had to deal with such hurt in his life. "Ok, I promise that I'll make an effort to see them more. And I'll tell them to come visit us in Dublin too, we can pay for that. Because...you're right. It's important." Seemingly reassured, he kissed me gently. "Good. And-" "AND we can keep your idea in mind...but let's just forget about it for now, okay? We'll see how life goes." He seemed content with that. We were both quiet for a while. Even attempting to be angry at him left me feeling guilty. Why? Because I knew he didn't deserve it. "Sorry," I said quietly, and he responded simply by clasping me to his chest. For a minute or so I just looked at him, touching his hair and face a little, but mostly just gazing at him. Finally, he giggled. "What?" "Nothing. I just like looking at you is all. You're ridiculously gorgeous." He laughed loudly and then pulled me to him tightly again, as if close wasn't close enough, kissing me hard. I tugged playfully on his ponytail as I kissed him, not caring who was looking at us. I couldn't wait to get home.
~No matter how deliriously tired I am, I must still remind you that this is fiction~
November 30th, 1986
I almost wanted to laugh at how Bono was struggling to keep up with me as I nearly race-walked though JFK. He had given up on trying to sneakily grab my hand. I wasn't having it. Usually it would be the other way around. Bono moved fast, he was always moving, never sitting still. I was working hard to walk faster than him, and working even harder to ignore him. I only slowed down when we hit a turnstyle, quickly lifting the suitcase I was rolling and walking through. I heard a deep grunt behind me. "UNGH." Whirling around, I saw Bono grabbing himself with an extreme look of pain on his face. I snorted and put my arm around him. "Poor klutz. Are you ok?" Angry as I was, I felt bad. He nodded, and thinking that he had won, went to put his arm around me. "Good," I said curtly, wiggling out of his grasp. Now that I thought of it, he probably did that on purpose. Hell, I wasn't looking, maybe the turnstyle didn't even whack him in the crotch at all! Now I felt even angrier.
I sat with my arms folded, staring straight ahead, a perfect picture of the silent treatment. It didn't usually work for me, but I was so angry that I was determined to make it work this time. Except I kept peeking at Bono out of the corner of my eye. That wasn't helping. I had deliberately sat so there were two seats between us, hoping someone would sit in one of them, but alas, no one had. He had a pensive look on his face, his eyes cast into his lap. His eyelashes appeared to graze his freckled cheeks. His hair was pulled into a neat, smooth little ponytail. I tried not to notice how his shirt was halfway unbuttoned. I reminded myself why I was so angry at him. Truthfully, I was angry at what he'd done, not at him. But I wanted him to feel my wrath, and damnit, I wasn't giving up.
Then, wouldn't you know it, he was trying to inch his way closer to me. I attempted to cross my arms even more firmly, succeeding only in hurting my ribs. Looking away from him didn't stop me from knowing how close he was getting to me. I was overtaken by the thick, musky scent of his cologne, and I almost melted right onto the floor. I couldn't remember why I was angry...wait, yes, now I remembered. Bono brushed his lips over my ear, down my neck...I could feel hot breath, a little stubble...oh, hell. "You're a little brat, you know that?" I said as evenly as possible. "You wouldn't talk to me, what was I supposed to do?" He was giving me that look, the hurt puppy one that I just couldn't look away from. I sighed and scooted closer to him. "It's SO hard to be mad at you!" He grinned. "Good. Because I hate when you're mad at me. Or act mad at me, anyway. I'm sorry, Lilly. I didn't think you would take it like that." I snuggled even closer and toyed with his exposed chest hair. "You just can't do that. It's like we're a team, and if you side with them, you weaken our defense! And then it would only get worse and more annoying every time we visit. If my mom can get you on her side, that's it, she's unstoppable." Bono laughed. "Why do we have to have 'sides'? All I said was that you were being kind of harsh, and that I understand where she's coming from. They're your parents, they raised you. They're gonna want to see you more than twice a year." I groaned. "Maybe I'll just send you over. You can visit them for a few days, that'll satisfy them. You're the one they're more interested in seeing anyway." He made a face that clearly said he thought I was crazy. "Why the hell would they be more interested in seeing me?" "Because," I said, propping my arm on his shoulder, "you're interesting! They're absurdly proud of you. I know for a fact that my mother carries pictures of us in her wallet, and you can bet she gushes a lot more about you. I'm not saying that bitterly, it makes sense. Look at everything you've done. All I did was marry you. They're proud of that, for sure. They have enough pride in me for that to last a lifetime!"
At first, my parents, particularly my mom, were less than thrilled about the life I'd chosen to lead, although they loved Bono. Then they went through of phase of acceptance, followed by near obsession with Bono. That definitely coincided with U2's sudden rise to being loved worldwide. I believed that now they simply wanted to see their daughter and son-in-law as much as possible, but I'd said that to Bono because I was annoyed at his siding with them. Not that I didn't want to see them, but him sticking up for my mom while I was in the middle of arguing with her pissed me off. We visited them every Thanksgiving, among other scattered visits, and each time the same topic came up- why we don't visit more.
Bono was still looking at me like I was slightly insane. "And Bono, they could come see us more often if they miss us so much! We shouldn't always have to be the ones to go there!" He was smiling now. "Shh, Lilly, don't yell!" I looked around at the many napping passengers in the terminal. Oops. "Listen, I have an idea, I've been thinking about this. Maybe we could buy an apartment in New York. We could stay there maybe a month or two out of the year, and that way we could see them more." He may as well have just suggested the swinging lifestyle to me. "Are you kidding me? If you're serious, then you're insane." He winced. "Are you going to get all pissed at me again?" I laughed. "I think that was about all I can take for the rest of the year." "Then yes, I'm serious. Why not?" "Because! That goes against everything I've worked for, to separate myself, to declare my independence...it would be a huge step backwards for me, Bono." "But you love New York!" Now I was getting annoyed at him. "Are you even listening to me? Do you understand what I'm saying, or are you just being a stupid man and only paying attention to what you have to say?" He chuckled. "Actually, I understand exactly what you mean. You leaving home, moving to Dublin, and refusing to compromise was you establishing yourself as an adult. That told your family that it was your life, and therefore yours to control, not theirs." He had put it into better words than even I could. "Yes," I said. "Exactly." Bono stroked my cheek. "I can read your heart like a book, girly. I'm always listening." The feeling of being understood perfectly overwhelmed me. I snuggled into him and he responded immediately, wrapping his arms around me tightly and kissing my hair. I sighed. Why the hell would I ever try to be angry with him? Having him love me was the greatest feeling in the world.
"All I'm saying, love, is that you've already made your point. Now this is about your lasting relationship with your parents." Bono had been adamant on that from the very beginning. I remembered the conversation we had when I realized why.
"Why? Because I haven't got a mother, Lilly. But you do. You have to talk to your parents, Lilly. You have to have a relationship with them. Because if you don't...you could end up regretting it someday. You'll regret all the things you never got to say or do. And that's a terrible feeling that I never, ever want you to feel."
My chest tightened at the memory. Looking at him now, I felt so sad that he had to deal with such hurt in his life. "Ok, I promise that I'll make an effort to see them more. And I'll tell them to come visit us in Dublin too, we can pay for that. Because...you're right. It's important." Seemingly reassured, he kissed me gently. "Good. And-" "AND we can keep your idea in mind...but let's just forget about it for now, okay? We'll see how life goes." He seemed content with that. We were both quiet for a while. Even attempting to be angry at him left me feeling guilty. Why? Because I knew he didn't deserve it. "Sorry," I said quietly, and he responded simply by clasping me to his chest. For a minute or so I just looked at him, touching his hair and face a little, but mostly just gazing at him. Finally, he giggled. "What?" "Nothing. I just like looking at you is all. You're ridiculously gorgeous." He laughed loudly and then pulled me to him tightly again, as if close wasn't close enough, kissing me hard. I tugged playfully on his ponytail as I kissed him, not caring who was looking at us. I couldn't wait to get home.
awwww - I love how she cant stay mad at him haha - I dont think Id be able to 
Great chapter! <3 I'm very glad you continued the story. 
what does Lilly mean by "I couldn't wait to get home?" 
chapter is coming up here soon? 
