|05-02-2005, 07:12 AM||#1|
Join Date: Feb 2005
Location: France, precisely Dijon for mustard lovers
Local Time: 06:31 PM
July 9th 2005 ( dare I say part I? )
July 9th 2005 :__________________
We’re late. I’m sure we’re late. ‘Look at your watch, take a close look, it’s 4. How can we be late ?’. I’m getting nervous, really nervous, I mean anxiety is my second name. How did we decide to drive up there so late ? I know I didn’t wanna get into the ellipse, I didn’t wanna get up there in the morning and wait for the gates to open, pressed up in the crowd, hot and thirsty, where you can’t move your finger without sticking it into someone else’s pants, I know we all have seats with numbers and whether we’re late or not, it won’t change a thing.
I’m sitting in my car but I’m not driving. I’m in the death seat and I’m burning. The sun is burning my right cheek through the window. No one’s moving in here, I’m the only one who can’t rest peacefully as if nothing were to happen. My three cousins are mute in the back, as usual, they’re just staring in front of them. My brother, the driver, listens to the music that’s hardly getting through the speakers and with his window open, we can only hear some kind of humming. But I know the song : it’s ‘All because of you’, the last part where the guitar is louder : ‘I’m at the door of the place I started out from and I want back inside’. He hardly knows the songs, he just wants to hear them one last time before the show so that he doesn’t look like an idiot being the only one who doesn’t know the lyrics. He can’t speak english anyway.
We need to find a spot to park the car near the stadium or at least near Paris. It’s going to be hell to get into the stadium in time. I hate the crowd and it’s so hot out there, it’s gonna be even worse. ‘A man and a woman’ is playing in the car. I wanna sing but I can’t because people dislike it. I’m thinking about the problems I left behind : a girlfriend who’s tired of me, a job I’m tired of and a family that’s getting tired of everything. I wanna smoke but I can’t have a cigarette in my own car. I look in the outside rear-view mirror and I close my eyes, my face bathing in the sun.
We get in front of the gates already open. Everyone around is smiling. Some words wander in my head. Paris, here I come. We get past security with difficulty and we walk slowly, gathering energy like bulls entering an arena, ready to run everywhere. I get there first and lose sight of my brother and cousins. I take a look at the seat number on my ticket and starts to look for it when a hand grabs my shirt and drags me in the other direction. My brother has always been very protective of me, I don’t know why.
We arrive at the door where we can see the entire stadium. It looks smaller somehow. The stage is all the way accross the field and it’s far away. I remember I’ve been there twice, both for international soccer games ; we lost both times. Half the seats are already taken and I’m thinking about the other half : anxious fans in their car so angry to be late for The Day.
We find our seats and sit quietly. My cousins start to talk about the playlist, hoping there’ll be famous songs or at least, songs that they know like ‘Sunday Bloody Sunday’. I reply that they don’t play this song at every concert. I finish my speech by saying ‘You know, it’s more than just a song’.
Anyway, the first band starts their show. It’s slow, very slow, I’m getting tired, I yawn. I look away at the crowd beneath. All eyes on the stage. Except those ones looking the other way. They’re scanning the whole stadium, looking for someone probably. The voice of the singer is getting fainter. The man in the crowd has his head backwards. The guitarist of the band seems to fall asleep, trapped in his own solo. The eyes stop and stare hard. I’m trying to figure out what he’s looking for, maybe he’s lost. The drumsticks don’t even hit their target anymore. The man freezes, he’s stuck. The show’s over.
People are cheering. Maybe they’re relieved. I can’t help staring at this man. He reminds me of someone. What’s his story ? I wanna know but I can’t. He’s the most mysterious thing I’ve ever seen. And his eyes…
He moves. He starts to swim his way through the crowd. I’ve got to follow him, whoever he is. I get up and walk along the seats. ‘Hey, whatcha doing ? The real show’s about to start !’.
My brother’s right. What am I doing ? What can I answer ? Oh, I’m just going to the toilet. 5 minutes before the show, no, he won’t believe me. Well, I’m just trying to follow a man in the crowd because, you know, he seems mysterious. How gay am I ?
This is not serious. I’m walking back to my seat. The guy’s gone. Never mind. The music in the stadium is getting louder, the cheering seems to muffle the noise. It’s dark now. Everybody stands up. They’re coming. The band is here. U2.
The stage sparkles and the band starts to play ‘Miracle Drug’. It’s unbelievable. How loud !
I sing along and turn to my brother whose lips don’t move. I start to laugh but just behind him, there’s the man I saw before. He’s standing in the alley. Man, he’s gonna wreck my night ! I have to focus on the stage. That’s right, listen to the song. ‘Freedom has a scent like the top of a new born baby’s head’.Yeah, that’s right, Bono.
Is he still here ? If I turn my head in his direction, will he still be here ? Why do I care ? Who’s this man compared to Bono, Edge, Adam or Larry ? Who could possibly make you happier than those guys ? A stranger ? No, forget about him. You’ve been waiting for this night for almost a year and you’re just gonna let a man you don’t know blow it.
He’s here. I can feel he’s still here from where I am. I can’t run after him, he’s right next to me. I mean, ten minutes ago, it made sense to follow a man in the crowd but now that he’s beside me, what can I do ? Talk to him ? Tell him what ? Hiya, who are you looking for ? I’ve been looking at you, I’m intrigued.
The intro of ‘Love and peace or else’ begins. Sounds great. The man turns around and leaves. What do I do ? No, I can’t. Well, we all know I’m gonna follow him.
I hurry so that my brother doesn’t ask me any questions. I start to run in the alley. He’s nowhere. What a chase ! Twelve seconds and you lose him, you really should consider being a cop. I look everywhere in the empty hall. I turn around, I feel his presence. He passes me by, he was behind me. He walks away slowly. I don’t remember why I start to follow him in the first place. I leave a certain distance between us so it’s not weird ( cop strategy ). He looks elegant like in a tux of a showhost. He stops at every door and returns in the hall thirty seconds later. ‘Vertigo’ is on. Everyone’s excited, I can feel it. The man has searched like half the stadium, I’m still behind him. Having a smoke. Casual.
Then he gets at the point where there’s no more spots to search, he has to go all the way around to search the other half. He stops in front of a door. NO ENTRY : STAFF ONLY. He seems to hesitate and he pushes the door open. I rush to the door but it closes before I get there in time. Well, chase’s over. Too bad. Or maybe… not.
I put both my hands on the doorknob and push it. A tremendous draught delays my arrival in a dark place where I get face to face with a huge security guy asking me what the hell I am doing here. I try to find an answer and come up with ‘I’m with the man right there’, waving at him. I don’t believe he will fall for it but you know, with all the music, it’s worth a shot.
‘Fine, you can go’, he says while I see the man right there waving back at me. He invites me to his side. What am I gonna tell him ? What’s he gonna do when he realizes I’m not the one he’s waiting for ?
The music is louder than ever. ‘Hi, who’re you looking for ?’he asks. ‘Some guy’. ‘Well, why don’t you take a seat first ?’. I sit down and suddenly find out I’m right next to the stage. I can almost see Bono’s tonsils when he’s singing ‘Can you hear me when I sing ?’.
‘It’s a great show, huh ?’. The man is spitting in my ear because he has to speak up. ‘I don’t know, I missed most of it.’
‘You a fan ?’. ‘ I sure am’. ‘ So you must be out of your mind.’ The man’s right. But whoever it was that I followed, he got me here anyway. The waterfall of lights behind the band, the ellipse sparkling, the whole crowd of fans singing along, the biggest rock band in the world, man, this is a great show.
Sorry for the poor quality of english ( and plot ).
If you wanna know who the mystery man is, let me know.
If you don't ( I understand ), just tell me no.
|05-02-2005, 07:39 AM||#2|
Rock n' Roll Doggie
Join Date: Nov 2003
Location: Counting the hairs on Bono's chest.
Local Time: 06:31 PM
Have faith in your writing..__________________
Enjoy the plot and let it grow.
..and if ppl don't wanna know who the mystery man is, so what? Tell 'em anyway..
er... so come on, who is he?
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