GraceRyan
Rock n' Roll Doggie FOB
This is my very first attempt at fan-fiction. Or at least public fan-fiction. Obviously, this is absolutely untrue, fabricated. It is meant for entertainment - hopefully yours. Please leave feedback.
Bono plopped down on the overstuffed chair across from the sofa. Larry didn’t look up from reading the sports page of the London Times. Bono pulled his mobile out of the pocket of jeans.
“You know who we should call?” he flipped it open. Larry didn’t look up. No one else seemed to care either. “I’m calling Abby.”
Larry glanced up his paper. Bono searched through his phonebook.
“Why are you calling her?” Adam asked.
Bono looked at him incredulously. “Hello? We’re in at Abbey Road studios. Get it?”
He received collective groans from the rest of the room. Larry chewed on his lower lip as he reread the same line over and over. He tried not to listen. Bono punched the phone and raised it to his ear as he sunk lower in the chair.
Abigail’s phone hummed in the pocket of her pants. She thought she had turned it off. She glanced at the display. Silently, she excused herself and moved out of the room.
“Hello?” she said impatiently.
“Abby!” Bono hollered. No answer. “Hello? Abby?”
“Yes, I’m here,” she said lowly.
“Where are you?” He asked.
“I’m at a press conference in New Orleans. Is my brother there? Do you need something?” she asked.
“No…I’m calling from Abbey Road,” he chimed brightly. There was another collective groan.
She couldn’t help but smile. It was hard to be angry with Bono for very long. Unless one spent a long time, like a tour, with him. Then, he could get irritating.
“You know….Abbey Road,” he repeated trying to illicit a chuckle at least.
“I get it,” she said dryly.
“What are you doing in New Orleans?” he asked.
“I’m at a movie premiere. It was a movie filmed here so we’re doing some publicity,” she paced in a circle.
“We’ll be there in a week, y’know,” he kicked his heavy shoes up on the table in front of him.
“I know you’ll be here,” she glanced over her shoulder. The press conference had a few more minutes to go.
Andrew, Abby’s older brother, walked into the common room. He glanced at Larry as if to ask who Bono was talking to. As Larry mouthed ‘Abigail’, his stomach tightened.
Andrew stood beside Bono and motioned for the phone.
“Look, I’d love to catch up….” Abigail started as her eyes moved towards the conference.
“Your brother wants to have a word,” Bono handed Andrew the phone.
“Hey, Abigail,” Andrew said.
“Why did anyone give Bono a phone?” she asked.
Andrew chuckled. “He has a ton of them, I swear. Look, I need you to come to London this week.”
“London, why?” she frowned.
“We’re scheduling some signing for the U2 book. Kinda was last minute, but I could really use you there,” he said. “You’re much better at this type of thing.”
Fan control type of thing. Somehow she managed to keep Bono from running off at the mouth for too long, while she kept Larry amiable and approachable for fans. That was her job.
“But I have…” she protested. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to fly to London.
“It’s all cleared. I talked with Serena in the office. You’re covered for the next week,” Andrew walked further from the common room. “We have Dublin, London and New York.”
“And you probably want me there in New Orleans…” she flipped her wrist and glanced at her watch.
“They couldn’t do it without you,” she could hear Andrew’s smile. “There’s a ticket waiting for you at the hotel.”
Abigail sighed. “Then why did you ask?”
“Because it seemed so much more polite,” He said. “We’ll see you on Thursday evening.”
Larry felt his already taut back muscles tense more.
Bono grabbed the phone. “Grand!” He shouted in the phone so loud her ear popped. “We’ll see you Thursday!”
Her eyes wandered back to the press. They were starting to wrap up. “I’ll see in a few days.”
She closed her phone before Bono had another breath to speak. She also needed a moment to catch her breath. To be back in the U2 fold was embracing a wild stallion and holding on for dear life. Larry’s face sprung to the front of her mind. She hadn’t seen him since the abrupt end of the Vertigo tour in March. Since the carnival in Brazil where they got drunk and danced and stumbled off on their own -when things between them got weird. From the applause, she knew the press conference was over. She made her way back to the stage with her head spinning.
Bono snapped his phone shut. Larry avoided eye contact. He was afraid his eyes would give his tangled feelings away. Abigail was rejoining the band. He bore a hole through his paper. For the last seven months, he tried to put her out his mind. The last few weeks of the tour were long and amazing. Abigail and Larry spent a lot time together. Secretly, he smiled to himself as he thought about the carnival. Just when things were getting hot, the tour was postponed. Everyone scattered. He was thrust back into the home life with kids and football games. He suppressed the daydreams of frolicking on an Australian beach with Abigail. He reminded himself all the reasons it would never work.
He folded up the paper. “Are we going to record? Time is money.”
Bono plopped down on the overstuffed chair across from the sofa. Larry didn’t look up from reading the sports page of the London Times. Bono pulled his mobile out of the pocket of jeans.
“You know who we should call?” he flipped it open. Larry didn’t look up. No one else seemed to care either. “I’m calling Abby.”
Larry glanced up his paper. Bono searched through his phonebook.
“Why are you calling her?” Adam asked.
Bono looked at him incredulously. “Hello? We’re in at Abbey Road studios. Get it?”
He received collective groans from the rest of the room. Larry chewed on his lower lip as he reread the same line over and over. He tried not to listen. Bono punched the phone and raised it to his ear as he sunk lower in the chair.
Abigail’s phone hummed in the pocket of her pants. She thought she had turned it off. She glanced at the display. Silently, she excused herself and moved out of the room.
“Hello?” she said impatiently.
“Abby!” Bono hollered. No answer. “Hello? Abby?”
“Yes, I’m here,” she said lowly.
“Where are you?” He asked.
“I’m at a press conference in New Orleans. Is my brother there? Do you need something?” she asked.
“No…I’m calling from Abbey Road,” he chimed brightly. There was another collective groan.
She couldn’t help but smile. It was hard to be angry with Bono for very long. Unless one spent a long time, like a tour, with him. Then, he could get irritating.
“You know….Abbey Road,” he repeated trying to illicit a chuckle at least.
“I get it,” she said dryly.
“What are you doing in New Orleans?” he asked.
“I’m at a movie premiere. It was a movie filmed here so we’re doing some publicity,” she paced in a circle.
“We’ll be there in a week, y’know,” he kicked his heavy shoes up on the table in front of him.
“I know you’ll be here,” she glanced over her shoulder. The press conference had a few more minutes to go.
Andrew, Abby’s older brother, walked into the common room. He glanced at Larry as if to ask who Bono was talking to. As Larry mouthed ‘Abigail’, his stomach tightened.
Andrew stood beside Bono and motioned for the phone.
“Look, I’d love to catch up….” Abigail started as her eyes moved towards the conference.
“Your brother wants to have a word,” Bono handed Andrew the phone.
“Hey, Abigail,” Andrew said.
“Why did anyone give Bono a phone?” she asked.
Andrew chuckled. “He has a ton of them, I swear. Look, I need you to come to London this week.”
“London, why?” she frowned.
“We’re scheduling some signing for the U2 book. Kinda was last minute, but I could really use you there,” he said. “You’re much better at this type of thing.”
Fan control type of thing. Somehow she managed to keep Bono from running off at the mouth for too long, while she kept Larry amiable and approachable for fans. That was her job.
“But I have…” she protested. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to fly to London.
“It’s all cleared. I talked with Serena in the office. You’re covered for the next week,” Andrew walked further from the common room. “We have Dublin, London and New York.”
“And you probably want me there in New Orleans…” she flipped her wrist and glanced at her watch.
“They couldn’t do it without you,” she could hear Andrew’s smile. “There’s a ticket waiting for you at the hotel.”
Abigail sighed. “Then why did you ask?”
“Because it seemed so much more polite,” He said. “We’ll see you on Thursday evening.”
Larry felt his already taut back muscles tense more.
Bono grabbed the phone. “Grand!” He shouted in the phone so loud her ear popped. “We’ll see you Thursday!”
Her eyes wandered back to the press. They were starting to wrap up. “I’ll see in a few days.”
She closed her phone before Bono had another breath to speak. She also needed a moment to catch her breath. To be back in the U2 fold was embracing a wild stallion and holding on for dear life. Larry’s face sprung to the front of her mind. She hadn’t seen him since the abrupt end of the Vertigo tour in March. Since the carnival in Brazil where they got drunk and danced and stumbled off on their own -when things between them got weird. From the applause, she knew the press conference was over. She made her way back to the stage with her head spinning.
Bono snapped his phone shut. Larry avoided eye contact. He was afraid his eyes would give his tangled feelings away. Abigail was rejoining the band. He bore a hole through his paper. For the last seven months, he tried to put her out his mind. The last few weeks of the tour were long and amazing. Abigail and Larry spent a lot time together. Secretly, he smiled to himself as he thought about the carnival. Just when things were getting hot, the tour was postponed. Everyone scattered. He was thrust back into the home life with kids and football games. He suppressed the daydreams of frolicking on an Australian beach with Abigail. He reminded himself all the reasons it would never work.
He folded up the paper. “Are we going to record? Time is money.”
So go for it..
