Dancing With The Devil ch. 12 - U2 Feedback

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Old 01-31-2011, 08:20 PM   #1
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wink Dancing With The Devil ch. 12

I own many things... maybe a red guitar and three chords... but this is not the truth. XD

Here it comes!
I wake with a huge smile on my face. The events from last night are clear in my head, and I replay them like a movie as I get dressed and brush my teeth. A few bits of Lina’s conversation is lost on me, but I remember our conclusion- I will take up Eric’s offer and get a job on Zoo TV. Excitement reigns supreme and makes my hands shake as I try to carefully pull my hair into a ponytail.
Once I am presentable, it’s hard to decide what to do now. Call Eric? Nope, too early for that. Call my family? Well…
Soon I’m back on the phone, dialing my parent’s home number. They live in Holland, but not near me and Lina. My family was proud when I moved to Rotterdam, but still sad that I wouldn’t get to see them as often. So I’ve managed to keep closely in touch with them by calling their home for hour-long chats.
The time here in Portugal is past seven. In Holland it will be past eight, so my parents will be up. I smile and press in the number, then wait for the ringing on the other end to cease.
“Hello?” And hearing my father’s voice on the other end of the line is a surprise. Not the fact that it’s my father, but the fact that I haven’t heard it in so long…
“Hey Dad. This is Marieke.” I swallow and add, “Can I talk to you and Mom?”
He sounds just as surprised as I am. “Marieke! Why of course, I’ll get your mother…” There’s a pause, and then her all-too-familiar voice comes on. “Hi, sweetheart, what’s up?”
Oh dear. Maybe I don’t call them as often as I should. I rack my brains for the last memory of calling them, and come up blank. Guilt comes on, but I choke it back and say, “Hello, Mom.”
“This is a surprise,” my dad says. “What’s the occasion, Marieke?” I start to protest- it really hasn’t been that long- when he chuckles and says “Oh, I’m kidding. It’s just good to hear your voice today.” Mom chimes in with, “Especially considering that your sister hasn’t rung us in years!”
Knowing my sister, this is probably not an overstatement. The entire time I lived with her last year, she never once called our parents. I say, “It’s good to talk to you, too.” You too… heh, in English it sounds just like U2. That stupid pun never fails to get me. “How’s life over there?”
“Oh, simply boring,” my mom sighs.
My dad laughs and mock-whispers to me, “She’s just saying that because she’s not working anymore. The only excitement she gets is from the garden outside.”
“I’m too young to be doing old-lady things such as that!” my mom complains.
I smile. Oh, how I love my parents.
“So what’s it like with Lina these days?” Dad asks. “You two getting along fine?”
You two… God, not again.
“Yeah, everything’s okay here in Rotterdam,” I say, glancing around my hotel room and thinking that, well, Rotterdam’s not exactly here. “Lina and I saw the U2 show on Wednesday.”
“Oh?” Mom’s voice has come in now, but it’s not a comforting tone. I don’t think she quite understands our obsession, though she’s never said anything against the music.
“How was it?” Dad wants to know. He somewhat gets the importance of this, at least.
“Extreme!” I blurt. “You can’t believe how amazing the show was. And…” The need to hesitate suddenly comes over me. “And… well, I met the band after the show.”
“Good for you!” Dad exclaims, his shock clear. “Well, that must have been an out-of-body experience.”
“It practically was,” I insist.
“Ehhh…” Mom sighs, and I guess she’s bored. “Was it then?”
I decide to leave out the details about MacPhisto’s phone call to KLM and how I met Eric. Instead, I come to the part that brings us up to speed.
“Well, I flew out to Lisbon to see the next show,” I murmur, trying to sound as casual as possible.
“Wait… Lisbon in Portugal?” Guess my casual tone didn’t trick my mom.
“Yeah, I’m… in Lisbon now,” I say, coughing awkwardly.
There’s just silence on the other end. Then Dad asks, “Was the show any good?”
Here it comes. I answer his question- “Better than before.” And then- “I met the band again. And they want me-“ Okay, so it’s not really the band that wants me, but to heck with details- “They want me to join them on tour. I could get a job with the crew. I was calling just to let you know I’ll be working for Zoo TV, and I probably won’t call or visit you for a while.”
Even more silence. If it weren’t a cliche, I’d say the silence is deafening. Finally, finally Dad speaks.
“Are you sure you want to do this? It’s hard working on tour.”
“I’ve already made my mind up,” I say.
Mom swallows. “All right. We’ll miss talking to you, sweetheart.”
“Yeah. But there’ll be a lot of talking when I get back!”
“There better be,” my dad says. “Tell us everything about working for rock stars! What an exciting lifestyle lies in wait for you.”
I smile. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll see you guys again…”
“Bye sweetheart!” my mom calls.
Well. That’s over. I hold the phone in both hands and wonder if they’ll be okay. Aw, what am I thinking? Of course they’ll be okay. They have each other. I jump off the bed and sort through my jeans on the floor, searching for that slip of paper…
Here it is. I read the number on the scrap, and then settle myself back down on the bed as I dial it. I cross my fingers, hoping with all my heart that Eric will be awake.
Brrr-ring. Riiiing. I’m still holding on here… please pick up the phone.
“Hello?” A voice blurred by sleep, and sounding for all the world like a man who’s all partied out. Wonder how long the poor guy was up…
“Hello Eric. It is Marieke.” And it is a shock to go back to speaking English. My tongue feels heavy as I sort out the right words in my mind. “I want to do the job.”
There’s a pause, and then Eric asks, “The job…? Oh, right, my offer! That’s great!”
“What do I do?” I ask.
He tells me, “Come to the hotel when you’re up. I’ll meet you outside. Here, I’ll tell you the address… do you have a pencil ready?”
I translate his words and then hop off the bed, searching wildly for a writing utensil. There’s a pencil just on the bedside table, and I jump back onto the bed and give the affirmative.
He gives me the address, his voice thick but definitely coherent, and I write it down feverishly. Then he finishes, “It’s good to talk to you, Marieke. I’ll see you at the hotel in a little while.”
“Goodbye,” I say, and hang up the phone. Time to get going.
There’s the hotel. Which means there’s my reason to park the car. I pull over into the lot and angle the rental car neatly into a free space. Oh, and now I can see trucks, presumably used for transporting Zoo TV equipment. It excites me to no end. Will I be in one of those trucks or buses soon?
I slip out of the seat and head confidently towards the door outside the hotel. Then it hits me strongly. Once I’m in, how will I find Eric’s hotel room?
Unsure, I take a glance back to my car. My suitcase is already all packed. It comes to me that maybe I should have talked to Lina about sending some of my stuff from home out here…
This plan is faultier than I’ve realized.
Feeling like an idiot, I return to the car and moodily lean back on the hood. I concentrate on making my expression look tough, a face that tells others to back off. No one wants to come near me, and I wonder how long I can ward people off before Eric comes out of the building.
A bird flies overhead. I settle myself onto the car hood fully and count the clouds overhead, white cream puffs set in a blue sky. Maybe I should just drive back to the hotel and work out my idea. But before I can take any action, a familiar face comes out from the door.
I leap off the car and rush towards him. He sees me and takes my hand as I approach. “Hello, you,” Eric murmurs, and I now recognize his hair color in the light. It’s not quite brown or red, somewhat of a rusty mix between them, a bit curly and windswept. I smile into his face, the green eyes dancing above freckly cheeks, and think he looks more Irish than American.
“I wasn’t expecting you to come so early,” he tells me, releasing my grip.
“But it is next to nine o’clock,” I say.
He checks his wrist for the always-present watch and laughs. “Oh, you’re right. Do you consider that to be late?”
“Not really.” I take a step back from him, suddenly feeling that we’re too close. “May I go in?”
Eric takes a glance back to the hotel, looking wary. “Um. I don’t… think that’s a good idea.”
“Why?” It seems odd that I came all the way out here just to be denied entrance to the hotel.
“Because… well, because no one actually knows I invited you to come on tour.” He watches my face for a reaction before continuing, “And the band doesn’t like to hire fans for their crew.”
My face falls. Why the hell would Eric even invite me, if he thought they wouldn’t take me on?
Watching my expression, Eric seems to grow more uncomfortable. “Gosh! I’m sorry about confusion, Marieke.”
“But I’m still doing it?” I cut in.
He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs, “I guess. I mean, I feel bad for making you leave again. I’m sure you’re prepared for the job and, well, I can’t turn you down.”
I wait, raising one eyebrow.
“Let’s just hope the guys won’t be angry when they find you,” Eric finally concludes, and turns me around. “How’d you like to be given a tour of the buses?”
I nod, signaling what I want, and he leads me off. I eye the hotel we scurry away, and think that Bono could never drive me off. I’d be very persistent.
“What do you do?” I ask as Eric gestures to the trucks. They’re even bigger up close.
He gives a short laugh and says, “Nothing important. For a tour this big, a lot of manpower was needed. So all I do, really, is help set up and tear down the stage props. It’s a simple job to get paid for.”
“Are the TV… screens in there?” I ask, pointing to the truck.
He nods. “Oh, yes. Among other supplies.” I stare so long that he has to tear me away to get us moving again. “And here are the buses. My second home.”
They aren’t so impressive, but they’re the place I’ll be riding in for this tour. There sure are a lot, for all the many people accompanying the band on Zoo TV. I assume the band gets to ride in the biggest and best bus of all.
“This is mine,” Eric says, pointing me towards a certain one. “And that is where you’ll be spending most of today.”
Wait… I don’t want to be crammed in a bus all day. When do we get lunch? Where are we going next, anyway? Is the next tour date in Spain? Or do we have to get on a plane and fly over ocean? What the HELL have I gotten myself into?
I turn to Eric, my frantic panicking clear on my face. He looks alarmed, and blurts “What’s wrong?” as I grab his arms.
“I don’t know!!” I’m terrified. Eric holds me carefully, his confusion evident. I don’t blame him one bit.
“Where…? When…? Oh!” I try to pull away from Eric, but he squeezes me into place. “Calm down. You’re just confused. Calm down.”
The murmur sounds like Bono’s whisper to me onstage, the time I danced with him. I do as Eric says and calms down, and he finally releases me- and I think his embrace was probably just an excuse to touch my body. Except Eric had never taken an interest in that…
“Um. What was that?” he asks.
“I don’t know.” Take things one step at a time… I hold myself back from bombarding Eric with my questions. First things first… “Where is the next show?”
Eric relaxes, and says, “In Oviedo, Spain.”
I haven’t heard of that place, but at least we’re still on the same continent. I realize that Eric wouldn’t have said we were traveling on the bus if he hadn’t meant it. Maybe later we’ll go by plane, but I trust Eric to be right- we’re spending the day on the bus.
I circle around him, and he shifts his weight. The first question has cleared up more than I asked- but there’s one other fact I need to know. “How long is Zoo TV?”
Eric counts briefly in his head. The response is, “I don’t really know.”
Before I can say anything, he adds, “But this is almost the last leg.”
So maybe I won’t be away from home for that long. If I ever get bored of it I guess I can always quit anyway. Though I know I could never get bored of Zoo TV.
I open my mouth and start to say something else, but am shut up by Eric’s glance. He looks over his shoulder, and I spy a large group of people leaving the hotel in separate clumps.
Eric murmurs, “The crew. I don’t think the band should see you when they come out! Go into that bus.” He points it out to me, and I begin to rush over when something occurs to me.
“Eric, I have a… bag in there,” I say, pointing out the car. “The car is not mine.”
He looks at me confusedly. “Why don’t you just give me the keys? I’ll take it back to the rentals for you.”
Relaxing, I reach into my pocket and hand him the car keys. Then I obey his command and go to the bus. The door’s unlocked and I haul myself into a seat.
Watching out the window, I notice a man striding over to Eric. It’s the other crew member I met before, Jack. What a surprise! Are these to be the only men I meet in the crew?
Jack and Eric converse. I can’t hear any of their words- darn glass- but I see Eric motioning with my keys and Jack nodding at the car. Then Eric drops them into Jack’s hand and the other man dashes off.
Eric turns to the bus and spies my face peeping out the window. He steps up and joins me on the inside.
“Hey. I let Jack take your car back. He’s going to bring you your stuff.”
“All right…” I trail off and look around. “When is it going?”
Eric flips his wrist upwards and checks the watch. “It’s a quarter to ten now. We’re leaving when everything’s set and packed up.”
I contemplate. I guess it won’t be that boring stuck in the bus until we get moving. “All right…”
He’s already backing out. “I’m sorry, but I have to go join the others now. They’ll need my help packing up. I’ll tell the driver of this bus that you’re in here, so it won’t come as a shock.”
I nod.
“Bye Eric.”
He is gone.
I follow him with my eyes. He slips across the parking lot and bumps into Jack, who is returning with my suitcase in tow. I stiffen as Eric murmurs something to him, and Jack continues on his way. He reaches the bus and climbs up the steps.
“Here you go,” is his curt remark as he hands over my stuff. I take the suitcase and squint my eyes, trying to place his accent. It’s not quite Irish or British, but there’s definitely a hint of the United Kingdom in there.
As Jack is turning to go, I ask, ”Where are you from?”
He spins back to face me, his eyes wide. “I’m… well, I live in Scotland.”
But is that where he’s from? Wow, U2 gets their crew from all over.
He stands, waiting, and when I give him the “All right” he blinks, turns, and walks out. I can’t fail to notice that he hasn’t gotten over his staring-at-me issue.
I return to my pastime- gazing out the window. Eric is gone now, but there are some other crew members milling about. My eyes blur and the scene disappears. My imagination floods over.
Surely the band won’t get rid of me. How can I go back to Holland now? They’d basically be denying me my greatest dream… and I sincerely doubt anyone would want to do that. Especially a band that is living their own dream.
Ahhh… I shake myself out of my head and focus on the outside again. The crew’s still loading equipment, and when I catch flashes of twisted copper hair I know it’s Eric. Farther away, a few men are still leaving the hotel- wait. It’s awfully coincidental that the man in the lead is swathed in black leather.
I watch the group of four, with additional bodyguards, as they wheel around and go off on their own separate ways. It’s surprisingly amusing- why is Bono wearing black on such a warm day, and why are they all ignoring each other? A low chuckle is emitted before I notice.
They’re not going to drive me away. I can be a good fan and not try anything naughty. I lean my head onto the glass and think. How about a brief nap before we leave…
Sunlight beams down as the four members of U2 leave the hotel. Portugal in May is bright, sunny- a perfect Sunday, not quite noon yet. There’s an incessant chatter among the guys and their guards- for once everyone is unusually talkative, even stony Larry. They talk and joke like the best friends they are, but it begins to die down as the band members must head their own ways.
Bono playfully waves goodbye to Larry and Edge, his mouth still moving as he engages Adam back into the conversation. The bassist doesn’t look very engaged, however. He is frowning at the sunny sky.
“Why aren’t we taking a plane this time? The buses are so much slower, and a waste of gas for another matter.”
A sigh- not a tired or annoyed sigh, just a content one- slips out of the side of Bono’s mouth. “Remember the times when we didn’t have our own airplanes, before we got big? That’s why.” Adam doesn’t bother to ask what Bono means by that.
Bono doesn’t really care anyway. At least it will be a longer ride, which means more time for writing lyrics. There are a few he’s toying with, ideas that may or may not be on the new LP. Bono’s not sure if the band can finish them in time, but he can’t just let them go. And then there’s that frustrating “babble” song… Hm. You never know what needs to be changed.
“Well, I’m taking off,” Adam says. He strolls away, calling over his shoulder, “See you, B!”
Bono calls back, “See you,” and then heads off on his own direction. Funny how the world’s biggest rockstar can stand outside of a hotel and talk without interruption from anything… He smiles at the idea.
A face catches his eye from the inside of one of the buses. Is that… no, it’s not a woman. There aren’t any females who would be on the bus anyway. Bono sighs and continues his walk, wondering for a second where Jack had gotten that suitcase.

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Old 01-31-2011, 08:33 PM   #2
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I own many things... maybe a red guitar and three chords... but this is not the truth.
Hehehe...I like those lyrics

You too… heh, in English it sounds just like U2
I've noticed this. I can't say 'you too' to people anymore without laughing. I say 'and you' and it sounds like A Celebration, or 'you as well' and I sound vaguely British

*sigh* Unfortunately I like men named Eric. Not good in this case. This Eric's being a bit too clingy.

Bono...this will be an interesting surprise

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Old 02-01-2011, 04:01 PM   #3
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YEah, I can't say ÿou too" normally abymore either! I usually don't say it at all if I can help it... or use "as well" which is fine cause I sometimes speak like that.
Sorry for ruining Eric for ya! The character's kind of annoying me, but he's the only person in thr crew that Marieke is paritculalry close to- maybe it's her being clingy.
Oh, it will be! It all depends on if the band thinks she'll be useful or whatever, or how they feel about her...
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Old 02-01-2011, 04:13 PM   #4
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It's so awkward. Although not as bad as noticing the awkward situations where other people say 'the edge'. 'Hold onto the edge of the cookie sheet, Katie?' ''

It's okay. I only like the name ^^ unfortunately, the guy who owns it has a girlfriend *sigh* But that's life...

Marieke does need people to help her out, though; she's only just starting the help-the-band-on-tour thing

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Old 02-01-2011, 11:12 PM   #5
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I totally would have loved to work on the ZOOTV crew! OMG! What a dream! So glad someone is writing the experience! I'm all caught up now. Sorry it's taken me so long. Got a lot going on! But I'm excited to see where this goes.
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Old 02-02-2011, 07:06 PM   #6
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Thanks L&L! It would be fantastic. And yeah there's a lot going on... I'm going to try to have every character have their own place in the story. I hope. Oh, and I don't even know where it goes! ..........
Katie- The "edge" one just makes me laugh, cause no one gets it. And I still haven't figured out the specifics of her job...
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Old 02-02-2011, 07:17 PM   #7
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It's awkward indeed. I managed to say "you can take some from the edge" to my sister, in reference to cookie dough, and then facepalmed spectacularly...

Well, it doesn't seem like she knows the specifics of the job yet either should be fine.
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Old 02-18-2011, 08:58 AM   #8
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Is Eric kidnapping her? :P
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Old 02-18-2011, 07:19 PM   #9
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Just read on and see. :P

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adam, bono, edge, eric, larry, marieke, phone call, u2, zoo tv

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