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Old 03-08-2003, 11:09 PM   #1
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My first foray into fanfic writing...entitled Reflections of the Mind

No, no slash here...knowing me, if I tried to write slash, it'd probably turn out really sucky...maybe someday I'll give it a try.

But for now, this is what you get, a non-slash short story. .

And also, this was crafted in my creative writing class...we had to do an inanimate object story, with the inanimate object being the main character, and I decided to use one of the screens from the ZooTV tour for the story and have the story be from the point of view of the screen.

So, without further ado, here it is-hope you like it.

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He stepped out onto the stage, acting like he owned the place. And tonight, at least, he did. He strode in time with the music as the rest of his bandmates began to play a song. It was obviously one of the big hits, because the crowd went absolutely insane. I have never seen that much confidence in someone before. Running a hand through his jet black hair, he began to sing his heart out. The crowd ate it all up, screaming, reaching their hands out to touch his, dancing, singing along.

What was I doing in the meantime? I was flashing random images and phrases. You name it, I showed it. I wasn’t the only one who did this; thousands of other screens did this as well. It was all part of an enormous tour known as the ZooTV tour, and the band that was doing this tour was known to the world as U2. We screens flashed these images and phrases, night after night, during this whole tour, blowing people’s minds everywhere we went. And I loved it.

The concert passed uneventfully for most of the night. Then came what was probably my least favorite part of the evening, the part when this man with the black hair began singing a particular song. It was called “One”, and as of late he had been singing it with such heartbreak and such sorrow. And I could do nothing to comfort him. All I could do was what I did every night, project the images and phrases that would best convey how he was feeling. Granted, all the other screens did the same thing, but I was different-unlike all the other screens, I could actually feel this man’s heartache, my images were the most emotional of all the images that the other televisions showed. I wished at that moment that I were a person instead of just screen number twenty-eight, so that I could give him a hug or something.

Not long after, the concert ended, and I, along with the other screens, were being packed up and put away. While I waited to be put away, I listened to the band talking. They talked about how the concert went (they thought it went very well), and congratulated each other on a good show. Soon, only two of them remained-Edge, the band’s lead guitarist, and the lead singer, who was known as Bono. They chatted for a while, and their conversation eventually turned to their families. Bono’s voice seemed so distant in the nearly empty lot.

“I just miss her so much. I haven’t heard from her lately, I don’t know if she’s okay, if the kids are okay-she just had our second child not too long ago! What if she‘s upset with me because I‘m not there to see our new child through her first few months? What if...” The lead singer’s voice was one of despair. “...what if she really does decide to leave me? She must be tired of waiting for me at home, what if that happens?” This was his biggest fear, he’d expressed that concern many times during this tour, so this was nothing new for me to hear.

“She would never do that. You know she loves you, B,” Edge reassured him. “I’m sure she and the kids are doing just fine. And she should be used to you being gone on tour-you've been doing it for over ten years now. ”

“I just hate that I‘m missing out on their lives. I want to keep both my family and the band going, but it’s like a tug-of-war between the two. I don’t want to give you guys up, and I don’t want to give my family up. I wish I could divide my time with you all equally.”

“Well, that’s what you get when you enter this kind of business, B,” Edge reminded him.

“I know, I know...” Bono muttered. He sighed.

“You’ll hear from your wife soon, I’m sure. Perhaps she’s just busy right now, kinda like you are.” Edge gave him a sympathetic smile and patted him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, perhaps...” Bono's voice trailed off.

“Believe me, you’re not the only one feeling this way,” Edge informed him. “I'm going through the same thing, too, what with my kids being left back at home and all."

Edge and Bono then left the area. I felt for Bono, I really did. And yet, a feeling of selfishness came over me-while I did want B’s wife to call him and help him feel better, I also wanted her to call so that I wouldn’t have to convey such depressing images night after night during that song. And since Bono’s despair was reflected in whatever I showed, it put a strain on me. I knew if I continued to convey his despair for the rest of the tour, eventually I wouldn’t be able to take anymore, and I would soon give out. So, for Bono’s sake, and for mine, I wanted his wife to call him.

Two nights later. Another country. Another concert. All set up and ready to go. Same reactions-screaming fans, hands waving everywhere, dancing, singing, the pounding of drums, the jangling of guitars. And the passion in the voice of Bono as he belted out the tunes that everyone wanted to hear. It never failed to amaze me how four guys, who are really otherwise just your ordinary, everyday people, could cause such a commotion by doing something as simple as singing songs or playing instruments.

Then it was time for that song again. Bono’s voice cracked as he began the infamous song:

“Is it getting better, or do you feel the same?”

Once again, the sorrow Bono felt shone through on the song. But tonight was different. Tonight was me seeing Bono in his darkest hour. During the rehearsal earlier in the day for this concert, I’d heard him mention to his bandmates how he’d tried to get a hold of his wife the night before, and she hadn’t answered his call. Needless to say, that put him in a crabby mood all through rehearsal.

Of course, the crowd was completely oblivious to this. Bono would make a wonderful actor, I thought. He’d transformed into many characters each night during this tour, donning a pair of shades and a leather outfit at one point and calling himself The Fly, and then a devilish outfit later on, portraying a devil-like character. So I guess it shouldn’t have come as a shock to me that the crowd didn’t realize he was truly hurting.

I, on the other hand, did realize that. And it was beginning to take its toll on me. Depressing images flashed furiously to the crowd from me, more and more, faster and faster, as if I was trying to reach some kind of catharsis.

Finally, I reached it. As predicted, I gave out. KA-BOOM! Sheer pain ripped through me.

Bono stopped singing and whipped his head around to look up at me. The crowd gasped and drew back, just in case I presented some sort of danger to them. Bono just glared at me.

“Uh, we’ve got some technical difficulties, folks. Just stay put, we’ll get this whole thing worked out soon,” Edge acknowledged the crowd.

Murmurs rose up through the crowd. I felt myself being brought down from the wall and brought backstage.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Bono fumed as he stormed into the backstage area. “The screen was working just fine during rehearsal. What in the world happened?”

“It’s okay, B, we’ll be back on stage soon. Calm down,” Edge replied in an attempt to keep Bono’s temper under control. He failed.

“Calm down? Calm down? The screen is busted, the concert’s stalled...everything’s just going completely wrong...and you want me to calm down?” Bono spat at Edge. I had never seen Bono so red before. He was practically livid...over a simple screen malfunction.

“This sudden outburst wouldn’t have anything to do with you still hearing nothing from your wife, would it?” Edge inquired quietly.

“No,” Bono snapped, a little too quickly.

Edge raised an eyebrow and looked at him knowingly.

“It’s not!” Bono insisted.

“Uh-huh,” Edge replied, knowing full well Bono was lying.

Bono glared at Edge. He then spun around and stormed over to a corner to be alone for a while. Edge sighed, then looked at his watch. Maybe I was just really out of it, but I could have swore that I then heard Edge mutter something about a girl and how she had “better get here soon”. Not long after that, a man came over to Edge and whispered something in his ear. Edge's face broke into a huge grin, and he and the man left the area. This puzzled me-what was going on?

A few minutes later, I found out. Edge entered the backstage area again, but this time he returned with an older woman with brown hair, who was rather tall and quite beautiful. The woman had two children with her; a small child of about three years of age, and a baby, who was fast asleep in its mother’s arms

“Hi, everyone,” the woman greeted the group of people in the room. She smiled.

I then glanced in the corner where Bono stood. His eyes widened. He looked in the direction of the woman and the kids, and ran over to where they stood. And I knew at that moment that this must’ve been his family.

“Hi, sweetie,” the woman greeted him softly.

“Oh, my god, Ali...what are you doing here?” Bono asked, astonished.

“Surprise,” Edge chimed in, grinning. He stepped over and stood next to Bono.

“Huh?” Bono asked, turning back to Edge. He looked confused.

“I had called Ali a couple of months ago, and I had explained to her the whole situation about how you really missed her and the kids and all that. So during this time, we’d been working out our schedules, and we’d been planning a good time for her to take a surprise trip out here to see you,” Edge explained. “That’s why, when you tried to call her the last two nights, she wasn’t answering-she was heading out to fly here.”

“So...you're saying that you knew Ali was coming to visit me sometime soon, and you didn‘t tell me?” Bono asked.

“Um...yes...” Edge admitted, a guilty look on his face. Bono tried to look angry at Edge for deceiving him, but he failed and wound up smiling instead. “Thanks,” he replied, giving Edge a hug.

“No problem,” Edge said.

“It’s so good to see you,” Ali exclaimed, hugging Bono. “So what’s up?”

“Oh, one of our screens had some malfunctions,” Bono explained, waving a hand in my direction. “So how long are you going to be here?”

“As long as you want me to be here,” Ali said.

“Okay,” a balding, overweight repairman announced a while later, coming over to the band. “T.V’s fixed.”

“Great. Ready, everyone?” Bono asked, looking at his bandmates. They nodded and grabbed their instruments (except for their drummer, Larry-his instrument was still on the stage).

I then was picked up and brought back out onto the wall, and was settled back into my spot. The band then strolled back onto the stage, and Ali and her two children stood at the entryway leading from the stage to the backstage area.

“Sorry about that, folks,” Bono apologized to the crowd. “If you don’t mind, we’d like to start that song again...do you mind?”

The crowd roared their approval.

And this time, instead of depressing images and phrases being projected, I showed happier images.

At the end of the song, Bono announced, “Everyone, I want to introduce you to my family-my wife Alison, and my two children, Jordan and Eve.”

Alison and her two kids stepped onto the stage, Alison looking slightly embarrassed, but smiling. Bono put an arm around Alison and gave her a kiss, then he picked up his oldest child. The crowd cheered.

Silently, I cheered, too.

_____________________________________________________

Angela
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Old 03-09-2003, 03:38 PM   #2
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very interesting point of view and it's a sweet story. good job
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Old 03-09-2003, 07:42 PM   #3
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Cool POV- at first I thought it was a person running the screen but it didn't take me too long to catch on! (Okay, so I didn't read you opening note past the no slash part until three seconds ago...)

I liked it!
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