Sad_Girl
Blue Crack Supplier
Disclaimer: although this story is inspired by real people, it is completely fictional. None of it happened. Even the things which are based loosely off reality have been changed/altered for the sake of the storyline. Please don’t mistake any of this for reality or take it seriously – it’s written for the sake of fun and entertainment. No harm intended.
No Secret At All
Chapter 11
“Wait! Wait, turn that back!” Bono demanded, stopping in his tracks as he passed the sofa where Larry and Adam were slouching in front of the TV for a few moments of relaxation.
“What? Where?” Adam asked, flipping back through the channels and trying to guess which one had caused Bono’s sudden, desperate interest.
“There! No, that one! Give me that!” Bono replied, finally grabbing the remote out of Adam’s hand and settling on Country Music Television, which was currently playing an ad for dish soap. “Damn it,” he muttered, moving around the sofa and settling in between his friends to wait for the program to come back on. Larry and Adam exchanged a bemused glance and fell silent as they, too, waited to see what was coming.
“Welcome back to CMT, Country Music Television,” a cheery young woman with a down-home accent said, “I’m Joanne Whitley and this is CMT spotlight. This morning we’re talking to the bad girl of country music, Shannon Dale!”
Bono leaned forward, elbows on his knees as they showed a clip of a pretty young woman on stage, singing about a ‘one night rodeo’. She wore a pair of jeans so tight that they could’ve been painted on, a pair of black leather cowboy boots with an inlaid sunburst pattern of shiny silver and an equally shiny, equally gaudy belt buckle. Her outfit was completed with a tight black spaghetti strap tank top and a black Stetson cowboy hat.
She belted out the words with an ease and natural flare that seemed, for her, as simple as breathing. They watched her play to the crowd, flashing them a coy smile when she reached the chorus, which was an obvious double-entendre for casual sex. The electricity between her and the crowd was practically visible. Adam arched an eyebrow and let out a low whistle of appreciation and Larry nodded and hummed a note of agreement. She was stunning, and she had one hell of a voice.
When the picture faded from the concert scene and re-opened on the studio, the woman who had identified herself as Joanne Whitley was joined now by the sultry singer. She wore a similar outfit to the one she’d had on in the concert footage, only the jeans were replaced by cut-off jean shorts, the shirt was white rather than black, and she wore no hat but instead had her long brown hair braided into two long pig-tails which framed her face and fell over her shoulders in a way that was both childish yet undeniably seductive.
The host greeted Shannon and they chatted for a moment about the resounding success of her most recent album, which included a single that was rapidly climbing not just the country charts but the top 40 as well.
“We’re kicking off the tour in Dallas at the Reunion Arena on April 4th,” Shannon said casually. “The concert sold out in record time for the arena – even faster than the U2 concert that’s gonna be there the next night.”
Bono grinned at the mention of the band. She had taken notice of the fact that they would be appearing in the same place back-to-back.
“Where?” Larry asked, having only been half paying attention.
“Texas,” Adam replied from one side of his mouth as his lips pinched down on a cigarette on the other side, his hands searching his pockets for a lighter. Larry made a noise of disgruntled acknowledgement as if it were somehow more acceptable that it had happened in the deep south.
“Actually, I met them at the Grammy’s recently,” Shannon was saying as Adam and Larry turned their attention back to the TV. “Not all of them, but Bono and The Edge. It turns out Bono is a country music fan, himself. I even got a private performance of ‘Lost Highway’.” Shannon smiled coyly, the same smile from the concert clip. Adam’s eyebrows both shot up in interest now, and Larry turned away from the TV to gape at Bono instead.
“Really?” Joanne asked, her interest piqued as well.
“In fact, Bono, darlin’ if you see this and you make it down to Dallas a day early, you’re welcome on stage with me and we’ll do us a little duet,” Shannon said into the camera. The flirtatious tilt of her head and the way she batted her eyelashes were far from subtle. She chuckled at the thought of Bono actually seeing the program, and Joanne made some comment to the effect that the network might have to try and send a tape to him.
They moved on to the subject of Shannon’s new video, which she was there to premiere. They were discussing the filming and artistic decisions about setting, but Larry and Adam weren’t listening anymore.
“Well?” Adam demanded finally, hitting Bono on the shoulder with the back of his hand.
“Well what?” Bono asked, turning away from the screen as the show went to commercials.
“You damn well know what, chap,” Adam laughed, releasing a cloud of smoke as he did.
“We can’t get you to shut yer yap about things usually but we haven’t heard word one about this bird,” Larry said.
“We met at a party after the Grammy’s,” Bono said with a too-casual shrug as he fought back a smirk that betrayed his true feelings about the meeting.
“Aaaaand…..?” Adam prodded.
“And I met her the next morning when I went in to wake Bono up in time to catch our flight,” Edge replied from the back of the room. Bono turned and flashed a smile at his friend, wondering how long he’d been standing there.
“You knew about this?” Adam asked, feigning indignation.
“For what it’s worth,” Edge confirmed. “Has Paul gotten her phone number from someone at her record label, yet?”
“Not yet,” Bono replied, his smile fading only slightly. He’d been frustrated about it, but this new development was definitely encouraging.
“Wait, you lost her number?” Larry asked, nearly choking on the word her.
“She never gave it to him,” Edge laughed.
“Ouch!” Adam exclaimed, wincing in empathy for his friend’s bruised ego. Larry barely contained his laughter, but his amusement was written clearly on his face.
“She’s just playing hard get,” Edge suggested playfully.
“I’ve never claimed to understand women,” Bono said, “but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying.”
Their attention was drawn back to the television as the program came back on, and Shannon’s new video debuted. It was a slow, sultry love song – and in the video she walked along a moonlit beach in a wispy white dress that was mostly see-through, and anyway as she walked she lost strips of fabric in the breeze. It gave the impression that the wind was going to simply blow her away completely, as if she would fade into the night like a dream.
Toward the middle of the video there were scenes of her wading into the water as a sudden downpour drenched her, the sheer white fabric concealing nothing underneath it anymore. Her long, wet hair clung to her shoulders and cheeks and the dress clung to her body as she stood in the water, her arms open and her head thrown back as she sang her song to the starry sky.
When they were able to look away from the screen, each of the men watched Bono’s face as he watched the video and each of them felt certain they would soon enough be meeting Shannon Dale.
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she sure knows how to play hard to get, 'cause it's obviously working!
