RavenBlue
Blue Crack Addict
This is it for this one. Thanks for all the kind feedback 
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. A figment of the imagination. Don't know the band. Yadda yadda yadda.
So, Adam led me from my scuzzy apartment to an equally scuzzy city cab. Perhaps he just wanted me to feel at home. The driver seemed to know where we were going already, Adam must have told him earlier. We zipped and zigged and zagged through city streets. Adam made polite conversation the whole way, asked about my cat, asked about what I'd heard about the new album, wondered what I thought about the weather. After a short jaunt through streets I had no idea existed in this city, we were at our destination. It was a large tower building, seeming to have infinite stories that went on and on into the sky. Finally, I was going to get my record deal! heh. Just kidding.
Adam, being the eternal gentleman, held the door open for me. Now, I've lived in this city a mighty long time but I still can't help but crane my neck up to gaze at these marvels of modern engineering as they sway in the wind. Charming.
Inside, I simply followed the jazzman. He seemed to know where we were going. I was still pretty sure that I was dreaming. He swiped a card at a security door and a pleasant "bing" sound emitted from the handle as the card was accepted. We entered a hallway with wooden walls and oriental carpeting. Around the corner, Adam led me by the hand into a large open room. Aha. A Bar. Well, what else should I have expected? It looked pretty well deserted spare for the barman who was busy polishing glasses, likely pondering life and it's many problems. Or maybe he was solely focused on trying to get that damn spot off that glass. Who knows?
The shadows gave way as we passed by many the empty table, and there just in my vision I could see three men sitting together around a table. A wide assortment of various liquor bottles strewn across the tabletop. So quickly, we are in front of the table and I recognize these three additional faces. Before Adam can even attempt an introduction, I find myself weeping. Oh yes, I cried. I cried in front of U2. I couldn't help it, the tears just came and they fell. I realized then, that this wasn't a dream. They were right there. At the first signs of my tears, I expected them to flee. But they didn't. They surrounded me like a protective shield and held me. Just like their songs had, millions upon millions of times.
"Sweetheart, don't cry. It's just us. It's just us lads."
And for the life of me, I tried to form a comprehensible word and it didn't work. One of them, Bono I think, sat me down into the booth and started talking. All the while drawing reassuring circles on my back. My tears began to dry up..
"You had us worried. That last letter... it was .. a bit..." and he trailed off.
"Grim" said Larry. "You were making us laugh, really hard. Seriously woman! But then that last letter, and the whole bugger beating the crap out of you at work. That was shite. Well, I think it was shite anyway."
Edge chimed in then.
"I'm sure Adam told you, that we'd looked forward to getting your notes. Really liked the whole diary aspect of it.. felt a part of something bigger there. But yea, that last note.. a little dark. Figured we'd come and see if you were alright."
I was gobsmacked.
"You came all the way here to see if I was alright?"
Four simultaneous "Yeps"
Then Bono.
"Well, that and the fact that we wanted to offer you something?"
My eyes widened and before I knew it, my mouth had opened and my snide remark had passed into the dark bar air.
"You?"
Silence.
Oh dear.
You eejit!
I instantly turned a redder shade of rose as I began to spurt and mutter some kind of apology.
Then, laughter. Unbridled, let loose, not caring who the hell heard them, laughter.
"Now that, my dear" Bono said, sliding an arm behind me "That is the Joy I like.. and as much as I'd like to offer myself to you, I think my wife might have a bit of an issue with that." Then a wink. Still, I managed to maintain consciousness. Don't ask me how, I don't know. Divine intervention. That would be my bet.
"We'd like to offer you a position.. with us."
Oh how many ladies have wanted to hear that line. My insides instantly turned to a type of goo. Silly girl. I was taken back to that episode of the Simpsons where Homer is trying to "think unsexy thoughts!" They weren't talking about THAT. Pay attention and don't forget to breathe.
"Doing what exactly?" I managed to choke out.
"Edge'll explain it best. Here, have a pint with us." The bartender came then and set down five dark ales. Guinness, I presumed. We all took large sips, licked our lips and then fixed our attention on Edge.
"Well, we noticed you don't seem to be particularly happy with your job, or where you are. I'm glad you like your cat and our music. It's always good to have lifelines, but it's also important to live. We also noticed that you have a great style of writing and a sarcasm and such. So we were wondering if you'd like to come work with us, on our new album, doing write-ups, promo stuff and tour visual and text things. Now, you wouldn't have to move if you didn't want to, but we're more than able to get you to Dublin and put you up in this lovely hotel that the lead singer of some band and I happen to run. Plus, we'd show you a good time and I promise, we are kind, fair folks to work for."
Remember that gobsmacked feeling from before?
Yea.
It came back again.
"You.. want me to.. write... to work..."
"That's right, darlin'" Larry winked.
Adam put his big paw on my shoulder, smiled that sweet, reassuring smile and spoke softly.
"So, what do you say?" and he gave me a squeeze.
I took a long gulp of Guinness and let the last bit of it slide down my throat before I finally worked up the courage to answer.
What else could I say but..
"Yes"
---
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. A figment of the imagination. Don't know the band. Yadda yadda yadda.
So, Adam led me from my scuzzy apartment to an equally scuzzy city cab. Perhaps he just wanted me to feel at home. The driver seemed to know where we were going already, Adam must have told him earlier. We zipped and zigged and zagged through city streets. Adam made polite conversation the whole way, asked about my cat, asked about what I'd heard about the new album, wondered what I thought about the weather. After a short jaunt through streets I had no idea existed in this city, we were at our destination. It was a large tower building, seeming to have infinite stories that went on and on into the sky. Finally, I was going to get my record deal! heh. Just kidding.
Adam, being the eternal gentleman, held the door open for me. Now, I've lived in this city a mighty long time but I still can't help but crane my neck up to gaze at these marvels of modern engineering as they sway in the wind. Charming.
Inside, I simply followed the jazzman. He seemed to know where we were going. I was still pretty sure that I was dreaming. He swiped a card at a security door and a pleasant "bing" sound emitted from the handle as the card was accepted. We entered a hallway with wooden walls and oriental carpeting. Around the corner, Adam led me by the hand into a large open room. Aha. A Bar. Well, what else should I have expected? It looked pretty well deserted spare for the barman who was busy polishing glasses, likely pondering life and it's many problems. Or maybe he was solely focused on trying to get that damn spot off that glass. Who knows?
The shadows gave way as we passed by many the empty table, and there just in my vision I could see three men sitting together around a table. A wide assortment of various liquor bottles strewn across the tabletop. So quickly, we are in front of the table and I recognize these three additional faces. Before Adam can even attempt an introduction, I find myself weeping. Oh yes, I cried. I cried in front of U2. I couldn't help it, the tears just came and they fell. I realized then, that this wasn't a dream. They were right there. At the first signs of my tears, I expected them to flee. But they didn't. They surrounded me like a protective shield and held me. Just like their songs had, millions upon millions of times.
"Sweetheart, don't cry. It's just us. It's just us lads."
And for the life of me, I tried to form a comprehensible word and it didn't work. One of them, Bono I think, sat me down into the booth and started talking. All the while drawing reassuring circles on my back. My tears began to dry up..
"You had us worried. That last letter... it was .. a bit..." and he trailed off.
"Grim" said Larry. "You were making us laugh, really hard. Seriously woman! But then that last letter, and the whole bugger beating the crap out of you at work. That was shite. Well, I think it was shite anyway."
Edge chimed in then.
"I'm sure Adam told you, that we'd looked forward to getting your notes. Really liked the whole diary aspect of it.. felt a part of something bigger there. But yea, that last note.. a little dark. Figured we'd come and see if you were alright."
I was gobsmacked.
"You came all the way here to see if I was alright?"
Four simultaneous "Yeps"
Then Bono.
"Well, that and the fact that we wanted to offer you something?"
My eyes widened and before I knew it, my mouth had opened and my snide remark had passed into the dark bar air.
"You?"
Silence.
Oh dear.
You eejit!
I instantly turned a redder shade of rose as I began to spurt and mutter some kind of apology.
Then, laughter. Unbridled, let loose, not caring who the hell heard them, laughter.
"Now that, my dear" Bono said, sliding an arm behind me "That is the Joy I like.. and as much as I'd like to offer myself to you, I think my wife might have a bit of an issue with that." Then a wink. Still, I managed to maintain consciousness. Don't ask me how, I don't know. Divine intervention. That would be my bet.
"We'd like to offer you a position.. with us."
Oh how many ladies have wanted to hear that line. My insides instantly turned to a type of goo. Silly girl. I was taken back to that episode of the Simpsons where Homer is trying to "think unsexy thoughts!" They weren't talking about THAT. Pay attention and don't forget to breathe.
"Doing what exactly?" I managed to choke out.
"Edge'll explain it best. Here, have a pint with us." The bartender came then and set down five dark ales. Guinness, I presumed. We all took large sips, licked our lips and then fixed our attention on Edge.
"Well, we noticed you don't seem to be particularly happy with your job, or where you are. I'm glad you like your cat and our music. It's always good to have lifelines, but it's also important to live. We also noticed that you have a great style of writing and a sarcasm and such. So we were wondering if you'd like to come work with us, on our new album, doing write-ups, promo stuff and tour visual and text things. Now, you wouldn't have to move if you didn't want to, but we're more than able to get you to Dublin and put you up in this lovely hotel that the lead singer of some band and I happen to run. Plus, we'd show you a good time and I promise, we are kind, fair folks to work for."
Remember that gobsmacked feeling from before?
Yea.
It came back again.
"You.. want me to.. write... to work..."
"That's right, darlin'" Larry winked.
Adam put his big paw on my shoulder, smiled that sweet, reassuring smile and spoke softly.
"So, what do you say?" and he gave me a squeeze.
I took a long gulp of Guinness and let the last bit of it slide down my throat before I finally worked up the courage to answer.
What else could I say but..
"Yes"
---
