BlueSilkenSky
Rock n' Roll Doggie VIP PASS
I ignore this place a little and fanfic starts springing up. I guess after posting this I'll get to reading it...
Not a true story.
Kelly woke up next morning in an agitated state. She busied herself making breakfast and carelessly stroking her hair with a brush. Her mind was on anything but Adam Clayton. There was an article to be due from her today, and she was anxious to see if it worked out.
She ate the same breakfast as she did every other day- a bowl of granola and an apple. Kelly found healthy meals to be her greatest benefit in life, and relished every bite. She crossed her legs and decided on jogging to work that morning.
Whenever Kelly Laughter entered the office of the Irish Times, her peers always knew she meant business. Behind her back they called her the “laughless Laughter” based on her hard exterior. At home, Kelly was the life of the party. At work, she was a witch.
Kelly gave a false smile towards everyone working in the room. A few brief “Hello”s and “Good morning”s sufficed for a compromise between the fellow journalists and Kelly, but they were mostly voiced by unsuspecting workers who had never learned not to speak. Kelly refused to acknowledge her fan club and sat down in her seat, beneath protection of the cubicle. Her green eyes flickered over the pictures, the articles, chanting monotonously in her mind the names of those poor, desperately snared celebrities- a calming ritual that Kelly unconsciously performed when stressed. She clicked her fingers when the ritual failed to work, anxious for the computer to turn on. She had to submit that article today, and needed to give it a once-over before surrendering her hard-worked effort.
A journalist in the cubicle to Kelly’s right, egged on by his own pride, dared to make small talk- “Hey Kelly, did you know about U2’s show in Turin tomorrow?”
Kelly whipped her head up. Couldn’t he let her edit in peace? “And what are you getting at?”
“Hey, just wondering if you’d heard about it,” the man said, defending himself all too early. Kelly cocked her head.
“Entertainment is not my department,” she answered blisteringly, whapping him around the head.
“Well…” She could almost picture him smiling in that disgustingly ugly way of his. “Are you in my department?”
Kelly yanked herself up from the chair and spun around towards the man’s cubicle. “Just tell me what it is I should know about U2,” she sneered, utterly fed up. “Are you going to see them, you bastard?”
The man- and everyone else within earshot- flinched at her words. “Nooo,” the journalist shot back, “but I know you like them-“
“You know nothing about me,” Kelly glared. “I’m not putting my job on hold to go overseas to Italy on a date with you! If you want to be insane, do. But I’m not following a dick like you.” Irritated yet satisfied, Kelly slid back under the cover of her cubicle. Now what about that Word document…
She became happy when the man beside her didn’t say another word. He deserved to be shut up. Kelly clamped a lid on her anxiety and reread the article. Everything sounded great… but was great good enough? Kelly let Spellcheck run, fixing tiny mistakes, and finally pulled up her email. It was foolish to stress out about one article. Kelly sent the document to the editor without looking back.
Now that that was over, Kelly had time to think on what the bastard in the cublcle next to hers had said. If she wanted to see U2 again, their next live show was in Turin. Kelly narrowed her eyes and clicked on Internet Explorer. The guy could have only been repeating word of mouth information, and Kelly knew of all people how false that information could be. She typed in the URL for the @U2 forum and hit Enter. After a brief look around, the news was confirmed- the band would be playing in Turin tomorrow. Kelly visited the homepage and searched for tour dates- when would they be in a place that was accessible to her if she wanted to see a U2 show? The closest date was in Manchester, but it was many weeks away. Kelly closed the browser. Just because she had interviewed Bono didn’t mean that she liked U2 or was any kind of fan. No, not in the least!
Of course, thoughts of U2 did bring back the memory that their bassist had called her last night. Kelly decided to waste some time in divining his purpose for calling her. He had said he wanted to see her that night and sounded very serious. A drunk man wouldn’t have been able to talk that way.
So how did he get my number? Kelly mussed up her black hair, scratching the skin beneath. However he had, he probably wouldn’t be calling her again. Kelly was comforted by that. Between the visit he had taken to her office, giving her a piece of his mind about the Bono interview, and the lustful phone call she had received last night, Adam Clayton appeared to have changed considerably. Kelly wasn’t sure if she should return the phone call, telling him to knock it off, or if she should just ignore the whole affair. Then, of course, there was the other option…
Kelly began accidentally daydreaming as she thought out the entire plan. She could go to the U2 concert in Turin and trail the band to their hotel. There she could indulge Adam all she wanted, drawing information and secrets out of him the further she went. A headline of “EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH ADAM CLAYTON!” might not sound as catchy as Bono, but hey, at least she’d have a follow-up. All that was needed was a day off work- and Kelly knew exactly how to get one.
Swiftly, Kelly went back to her email and clicked to send a message to her boss- May I have tomorrow off? Thanks, Kelly. Those were the only words needed to get what she wanted. Her boss was wrapped around her finger.
Eventually an email entered Kelly’s inbox, and without clicking on it she knew what it would say. Thank you… Her emotionless mind would not allow herself to feel pleased about her day off, as it would simply be another day on the job- a field trip, nothing less, and definitely nothing more.
The deafening screams of fans greeted U2 onstage in Turin, filling each member up with something akin to love. As Adam watched the audience dance in GA, heard Bono’s cries of “WHOO-HOO” at the beginning of Elevation, and played his own bass with swagger, he knew, not for the first time, that he would never, ever tire of this.
The show continued from there on out just as it had every night. Adam was an old pro at this now. For the first time since the PopMart Tour, he was finally relaxed, enjoying every night. Sure, PopMart had been fun, as had Zoo TV, but Elevation was like a rebirth, a breath of fresh air. There was nothing U2 had to prove anymore- they breezed through each show without any cares.
Adam’s mind was on Kelly for short glimpses during the night. When his bass throbbed into the beginning of With or Without You and the stadium darkened, he remembered the woman who had slipped into the bar and spoken in her haunting accent to a man who was not Adam. For a moment he thought he could see her in the crowd. But no; that was Adam’s imagination running away from him again. At the finale of the show, U2 collected their praise from the fans and threw it back at them, using Bono as the mouthpiece- “Goodnight Turin! We love you!”
The band clustered backstage to cool off.
“Whew! That was fun,” Bono said, accepting a towel from one of the crew members.
“You can say that again,” laughed Adam.
“Whew! That was-“
“Oh, shut up.” Larry punched Bono’s arm in a friendly manner.
As Adam was preparing to change clothes, a woman, a member of the crew, slipped up beside him. “Excuse me- Adam?”
“Yes?”
“There’s a woman out there to interview you. She came at the beginning of the show and won’t go away. Claims she’s from some music magazine.”
Adam was about to politely decline from the interview, as he recognized a phony when he heard of one, but one detail stopped him. A woman… come just for him. Was it too much to hope that… and in the audience…
“Don’t worry,” Adam told the woman. “It’s a real interview. I booked it myself today.”
“It wasn’t on your schedule.” The woman was concerned.
“Don’t worry,” Adam repeated, and allowed her to lead him out.
He could hear Kelly before he could see her. Her sweet Welsh accent was rolling off her tongue, anger pouring out of her. “Why are you searching me? I swear, the appointment was made today…”
“Can’t be too careful, Ms.,” the man getting the brunt of her anger was saying.
When Adam stepped into view, Kelly waved her arm. “Look, here’s Mr. Clayton. I told you it was real…”
“Hello,” Adam addressed his object of affection uncertainly. “The interview…”
“You paid for it, don’t you remember?” At once the anger was out of her voice. Kelly was serenading Adam with her gentle voice.
“Yes… of course I remember…”
“Why doesn’t the rest of the band- or the entourage- know anything about this interview?” Adam’s escort piped up.
Kelly swung her head and shot daggers at the woman. “Mr. Clayton required that it be kept on the down-low. It doesn’t involve any of the rest of U2, just him. The magazine’s for bassists.”
“Oh really?” the man questioned. “What’s it called?”
“Hey, lay off,” Adam finally spoke up. Everyone looked at him. Swallowing, Adam said, “She’s right, you know. I paid for the interview myself. It’s only between me and her. Please, leave us alone.”
After some initial bickering, both crew members agreed to leave if they were sure Adam could take care of himself. A security guard would be coming around to keep an eye on Adam. At last he and his crush were left alone.
“Kels,” Adam murmured. She glanced at him, soulless. “That’s Kelly to you.”
“Kelly, whatever,” Adam sighed. “What are you doing here?”
Her hands dove into her pockets. “You said in your call last night that I should be here. So I am.”
Adam tried to keep his gaze on her face and off lower areas. “I… didn’t mean it…”
“Oh, so my arriving here was pointless? I thought we could have a fun holiday… just you and me…”
Focus! She’s just trying to distract you. “Em… I, I don’t know what to think…”
Kelly leaned forward. Her hands flew from her pockets and reached forward, as if she was trying to catch her balance. They landed on Adam’s shoulders. He stumbled backward. Kelly drew herself into his arms and whispered, her mouth next to Adam’s ear.
“You don’t have to think. You don’t have to have a single damn thought…”
Before Adam could react, she pulled her lips onto his, kissing him softly. Adam felt his body respond, lighting up in flames. Just as he started to put his arms around her, though, the sound of footsteps reached his ears. Adam immediately unwrapped Kelly and shoved her gently away. Kelly ran her tongue over her lips as the newcomer to the scene approached- a security guard.
“Doing alright, Adam?” he asked, coming to Adam’s side. Adam nodded weakly- “Yes…” and the guard looked satisfied. Adam hoped that he wouldn’t notice anything peculiar in this scene. Kelly leaned back on one tender leg. “That’ll be enough, I think, Mr. Clayton. The interview is over.”
“Thanks,” Adam said, extending a hand to shake. As he connected with the cursed woman, sparks flew from their fingertips. Kelly gave a small wave and departed. This isn’t the end, Adam Clayton, her eyes seemed to say.
Some of these characters annoy me.
Not a true story.
Kelly woke up next morning in an agitated state. She busied herself making breakfast and carelessly stroking her hair with a brush. Her mind was on anything but Adam Clayton. There was an article to be due from her today, and she was anxious to see if it worked out.
She ate the same breakfast as she did every other day- a bowl of granola and an apple. Kelly found healthy meals to be her greatest benefit in life, and relished every bite. She crossed her legs and decided on jogging to work that morning.
Whenever Kelly Laughter entered the office of the Irish Times, her peers always knew she meant business. Behind her back they called her the “laughless Laughter” based on her hard exterior. At home, Kelly was the life of the party. At work, she was a witch.
Kelly gave a false smile towards everyone working in the room. A few brief “Hello”s and “Good morning”s sufficed for a compromise between the fellow journalists and Kelly, but they were mostly voiced by unsuspecting workers who had never learned not to speak. Kelly refused to acknowledge her fan club and sat down in her seat, beneath protection of the cubicle. Her green eyes flickered over the pictures, the articles, chanting monotonously in her mind the names of those poor, desperately snared celebrities- a calming ritual that Kelly unconsciously performed when stressed. She clicked her fingers when the ritual failed to work, anxious for the computer to turn on. She had to submit that article today, and needed to give it a once-over before surrendering her hard-worked effort.
A journalist in the cubicle to Kelly’s right, egged on by his own pride, dared to make small talk- “Hey Kelly, did you know about U2’s show in Turin tomorrow?”
Kelly whipped her head up. Couldn’t he let her edit in peace? “And what are you getting at?”
“Hey, just wondering if you’d heard about it,” the man said, defending himself all too early. Kelly cocked her head.
“Entertainment is not my department,” she answered blisteringly, whapping him around the head.
“Well…” She could almost picture him smiling in that disgustingly ugly way of his. “Are you in my department?”
Kelly yanked herself up from the chair and spun around towards the man’s cubicle. “Just tell me what it is I should know about U2,” she sneered, utterly fed up. “Are you going to see them, you bastard?”
The man- and everyone else within earshot- flinched at her words. “Nooo,” the journalist shot back, “but I know you like them-“
“You know nothing about me,” Kelly glared. “I’m not putting my job on hold to go overseas to Italy on a date with you! If you want to be insane, do. But I’m not following a dick like you.” Irritated yet satisfied, Kelly slid back under the cover of her cubicle. Now what about that Word document…
She became happy when the man beside her didn’t say another word. He deserved to be shut up. Kelly clamped a lid on her anxiety and reread the article. Everything sounded great… but was great good enough? Kelly let Spellcheck run, fixing tiny mistakes, and finally pulled up her email. It was foolish to stress out about one article. Kelly sent the document to the editor without looking back.
Now that that was over, Kelly had time to think on what the bastard in the cublcle next to hers had said. If she wanted to see U2 again, their next live show was in Turin. Kelly narrowed her eyes and clicked on Internet Explorer. The guy could have only been repeating word of mouth information, and Kelly knew of all people how false that information could be. She typed in the URL for the @U2 forum and hit Enter. After a brief look around, the news was confirmed- the band would be playing in Turin tomorrow. Kelly visited the homepage and searched for tour dates- when would they be in a place that was accessible to her if she wanted to see a U2 show? The closest date was in Manchester, but it was many weeks away. Kelly closed the browser. Just because she had interviewed Bono didn’t mean that she liked U2 or was any kind of fan. No, not in the least!
Of course, thoughts of U2 did bring back the memory that their bassist had called her last night. Kelly decided to waste some time in divining his purpose for calling her. He had said he wanted to see her that night and sounded very serious. A drunk man wouldn’t have been able to talk that way.
So how did he get my number? Kelly mussed up her black hair, scratching the skin beneath. However he had, he probably wouldn’t be calling her again. Kelly was comforted by that. Between the visit he had taken to her office, giving her a piece of his mind about the Bono interview, and the lustful phone call she had received last night, Adam Clayton appeared to have changed considerably. Kelly wasn’t sure if she should return the phone call, telling him to knock it off, or if she should just ignore the whole affair. Then, of course, there was the other option…
Kelly began accidentally daydreaming as she thought out the entire plan. She could go to the U2 concert in Turin and trail the band to their hotel. There she could indulge Adam all she wanted, drawing information and secrets out of him the further she went. A headline of “EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH ADAM CLAYTON!” might not sound as catchy as Bono, but hey, at least she’d have a follow-up. All that was needed was a day off work- and Kelly knew exactly how to get one.
Swiftly, Kelly went back to her email and clicked to send a message to her boss- May I have tomorrow off? Thanks, Kelly. Those were the only words needed to get what she wanted. Her boss was wrapped around her finger.
Eventually an email entered Kelly’s inbox, and without clicking on it she knew what it would say. Thank you… Her emotionless mind would not allow herself to feel pleased about her day off, as it would simply be another day on the job- a field trip, nothing less, and definitely nothing more.
The deafening screams of fans greeted U2 onstage in Turin, filling each member up with something akin to love. As Adam watched the audience dance in GA, heard Bono’s cries of “WHOO-HOO” at the beginning of Elevation, and played his own bass with swagger, he knew, not for the first time, that he would never, ever tire of this.
The show continued from there on out just as it had every night. Adam was an old pro at this now. For the first time since the PopMart Tour, he was finally relaxed, enjoying every night. Sure, PopMart had been fun, as had Zoo TV, but Elevation was like a rebirth, a breath of fresh air. There was nothing U2 had to prove anymore- they breezed through each show without any cares.
Adam’s mind was on Kelly for short glimpses during the night. When his bass throbbed into the beginning of With or Without You and the stadium darkened, he remembered the woman who had slipped into the bar and spoken in her haunting accent to a man who was not Adam. For a moment he thought he could see her in the crowd. But no; that was Adam’s imagination running away from him again. At the finale of the show, U2 collected their praise from the fans and threw it back at them, using Bono as the mouthpiece- “Goodnight Turin! We love you!”
The band clustered backstage to cool off.
“Whew! That was fun,” Bono said, accepting a towel from one of the crew members.
“You can say that again,” laughed Adam.
“Whew! That was-“
“Oh, shut up.” Larry punched Bono’s arm in a friendly manner.
As Adam was preparing to change clothes, a woman, a member of the crew, slipped up beside him. “Excuse me- Adam?”
“Yes?”
“There’s a woman out there to interview you. She came at the beginning of the show and won’t go away. Claims she’s from some music magazine.”
Adam was about to politely decline from the interview, as he recognized a phony when he heard of one, but one detail stopped him. A woman… come just for him. Was it too much to hope that… and in the audience…
“Don’t worry,” Adam told the woman. “It’s a real interview. I booked it myself today.”
“It wasn’t on your schedule.” The woman was concerned.
“Don’t worry,” Adam repeated, and allowed her to lead him out.
He could hear Kelly before he could see her. Her sweet Welsh accent was rolling off her tongue, anger pouring out of her. “Why are you searching me? I swear, the appointment was made today…”
“Can’t be too careful, Ms.,” the man getting the brunt of her anger was saying.
When Adam stepped into view, Kelly waved her arm. “Look, here’s Mr. Clayton. I told you it was real…”
“Hello,” Adam addressed his object of affection uncertainly. “The interview…”
“You paid for it, don’t you remember?” At once the anger was out of her voice. Kelly was serenading Adam with her gentle voice.
“Yes… of course I remember…”
“Why doesn’t the rest of the band- or the entourage- know anything about this interview?” Adam’s escort piped up.
Kelly swung her head and shot daggers at the woman. “Mr. Clayton required that it be kept on the down-low. It doesn’t involve any of the rest of U2, just him. The magazine’s for bassists.”
“Oh really?” the man questioned. “What’s it called?”
“Hey, lay off,” Adam finally spoke up. Everyone looked at him. Swallowing, Adam said, “She’s right, you know. I paid for the interview myself. It’s only between me and her. Please, leave us alone.”
After some initial bickering, both crew members agreed to leave if they were sure Adam could take care of himself. A security guard would be coming around to keep an eye on Adam. At last he and his crush were left alone.
“Kels,” Adam murmured. She glanced at him, soulless. “That’s Kelly to you.”
“Kelly, whatever,” Adam sighed. “What are you doing here?”
Her hands dove into her pockets. “You said in your call last night that I should be here. So I am.”
Adam tried to keep his gaze on her face and off lower areas. “I… didn’t mean it…”
“Oh, so my arriving here was pointless? I thought we could have a fun holiday… just you and me…”
Focus! She’s just trying to distract you. “Em… I, I don’t know what to think…”
Kelly leaned forward. Her hands flew from her pockets and reached forward, as if she was trying to catch her balance. They landed on Adam’s shoulders. He stumbled backward. Kelly drew herself into his arms and whispered, her mouth next to Adam’s ear.
“You don’t have to think. You don’t have to have a single damn thought…”
Before Adam could react, she pulled her lips onto his, kissing him softly. Adam felt his body respond, lighting up in flames. Just as he started to put his arms around her, though, the sound of footsteps reached his ears. Adam immediately unwrapped Kelly and shoved her gently away. Kelly ran her tongue over her lips as the newcomer to the scene approached- a security guard.
“Doing alright, Adam?” he asked, coming to Adam’s side. Adam nodded weakly- “Yes…” and the guard looked satisfied. Adam hoped that he wouldn’t notice anything peculiar in this scene. Kelly leaned back on one tender leg. “That’ll be enough, I think, Mr. Clayton. The interview is over.”
“Thanks,” Adam said, extending a hand to shake. As he connected with the cursed woman, sparks flew from their fingertips. Kelly gave a small wave and departed. This isn’t the end, Adam Clayton, her eyes seemed to say.
Some of these characters annoy me.
