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Old 02-21-2006, 10:54 PM   #1
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Out Of Control - Chapter 8

**The following is a work of fiction. No offense intended to anyone, it’s all meant in good fun. Oh, and if you’re offended by strong language, you may not like the dialogue in this story

Chapter Eight

“What the fuck are you doing?” Bono asked, banging on the bathroom door when he tried the handle and found it locked.

“Piss off!” Larry replied shortly. Bono laughed and considered the scene once again. He had returned to their hotel room to find the telephone cord stretched as far as it could go, running under the closed door into the bathroom.

“I would, but you’ve locked the door to the toilet.” He said, barely restraining his amusement as he imagined the vexation on his younger friends face.

“What?” Larry asked after a short silence.

“I must urinate!” Bono replied, speaking loudly and over-enunciating his words playfully. He heard Larry muttering curses under his breath and had to chuckle to himself. “I don’t know if I can hold it any longer.” He teased. “I’ll just have to find something I can piss in out here!” He called, watching the door and waiting.

“Fuck you will!” Larry exclaimed, the door swinging open and a rather irritated drummer emerging. “I have to go.” He told whoever was on the other end of the line before hanging up and carrying the phone back over to the desk where it belonged.

“Do I even want to know what you were doing in here?” Bono asked from the bathroom as he relieved himself. This was strange behavior even though Larry was the shyest and most private of the band.

“I was talking on the bloody phone.” He informed Bono.

“In the loo?”

“For some reason I thought I would be able to have a private, uninterrupted conversation if I had a locked door between myself and… well, you.”

“I’m not that nosy.” Bono said defensively as he flopped down on his bed.

“It doesn’t matter.” Larry sighed, not feeling like going around endlessly in a futile argument. He and Bono could go for hours once they started.

“Is something wrong?” Bono asked, frowning at Larry with genuine concern.

“No. Not really.”

“What is it? It’s not your father or sister?”

“No, no. It’s…” Larry sighed dramatically and looked at Bono as if sizing him up. Could he trust him? Bono waited patiently for him to decide.

“You remember the girl who interviewed us for that magazine, ‘The Beat’ or whatever the fuck it is?”

“Yeah, sure. Bleached blonde hair, a little on the pudgy side.”

“She wasn’t fat.”

“I didn’t say she was fat.”

“You said pudgy.”

“Well, she wasn’t skinny. Besides, I didn’t say pudgy was a bad thing.” Bono defended his description of the girl. “Anyway, what about her?”

“We had a conversation that night, after the interview, that I couldn’t get out of my head. I just called her to try and figure out what the hell she meant.” Larry went on to describe the conversation to his friend, who listened in uncharacteristic silence until the story was finished. Even after Larry fell silent, Bono just sat and smiled at him for a long moment.

“What?” Larry finally demanded, unnerved.

“You have a girlfriend.” Bono said, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“What? Were you even listening to me when I was talking?”

“Yes, I was. You have a girlfriend.” He said again, his tongue sticking out when he tried to bite back his laughter. “A real – absolutely makes no sense – going to drive you crazy but you’ll love it – girlfriend.”

Larry’s frustrated scowl only served to confirm Bono’s suspicions. Every time he’d heard Larry’s lecture about ‘real love’ and why every one else was wrong about it, Bono had told the others this would happen eventually. He was almost giddy with the realization that Larry Mullen Jr. was infatuated with a girl whom it defied logic for him to be interested in or involved with.


Rehearsals had been tense at best in the days which followed. In a strange twist on the norm, the only one in the band who really wanted to be there was Bono. Adam and Edge wanted mostly just to avoid one another and Larry was constantly on the phone with Alyx, always locked away somewhere so no one could listen in.

They were preparing to play the last gig of the first leg; a club in Berlin, West Germany. An already intense setting even without the troubles between band members. The others had all returned to the hotel or gone off somewhere else on their own, leaving Bono alone on the stage. Natalie was at one of the tables, going over schedules and double checking paperwork, as she always did the day of a show. Bono thought it was probably more out of routine than necessity. She was the most organized person he’d ever known.

He had been figuring out the basic piano part for the song which had been stuck in his head, and now took the chance to sit at the piano and give it a try. It was an Elton John song from a few years earlier, and not one he had taken much interest in frankly. It had been playing on the radio one day, shortly after the morning Natalie had shared her story with him.

“Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band. Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man. Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand, and now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand…”

Natalie stopped what she was doing and looked up at the stage, her heart beating erratically as she listened to the song. It had always been a favorite, and to hear Bono singing it was incredible.

“Piano man he makes his stand, in the auditorium. Looking on she sings the songs. The words she knows, the tune she hums. But oh how it feels so real, Lying here with no one near. Only you and you can't hear me, When I say softly, slowly; Hold me closer tiny dancer! Count the headlights on the highway. Lay me down in sheets of linen you had a busy day today …”

Did he have a clue what he was doing to her? She sincerely doubted it, but the possibility in and of itself was enough to make her knees shake. hold me closer Tiny dancer…

“Come on up here and show me some of those fancy moves.” Bono told her with a playful smile, gesturing with a nod of his head. She shook her head, nearly as horrified as if he’d tried to get her on the stage in front of everyone. “Come on!” He urged, stepping away from the piano to hold his hands out to her. She felt herself moving toward him before she’d made the conscious decision to do so.

Bono returned to the mic, which was still turned on from the sound check and sang into it, ad-libbing the chorus however it suited him at the moment. Natalie’s heart pounded in her ears as he started playing the piano again and she moved naturally and gracefully in time to the music. She felt so light-hearted that she could almost imagine herself stepping off the stage and taking flight.

Bono sang the song again, making the occasional off-hand comment when she did something he particularly liked. His praise was almost as beautiful as the music itself, to Natalie’s ears. She was laughing out loud when she took a wide, elaborate bow at the end of the song as Bono clapped and whistled.

Her face was flushed and her eyes shone, her smile natural and relaxed. Her wavy brown hair fell loosely around her face and shoulders as she caught her breath. Bono crossed the stage quickly to wrap his arms around her and swing her around in a circle.

“Think you can teach me some of those moves?” He asked, and Natalie laughed again, shaking her head.

“I think you’re hopeless.” She teased, making him laugh, too.

“I think you’re beautiful.” He told her, one hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear so he could see her face better. She blinked at him in surprise, her lips parting but no words forming. Finally she looked away, her eyes scanning the club for any sign of life. She found no one.

“I think you’re an incurable flirt.” She finally told him softly, her eyes falling to the top button of his shirt. She swallowed hard, trying to rid herself of the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “And too young to be teasing someone my age.” She added, her cheeks flushing hot with embarrassment. *oh God! Why did I say that?*

“You think I’m too young for you?” He asked, still holding her close and swaying in time to the music in his mind. “Haven’t you ever heard that young men hit their sexual peak in the early twenties and that women don’t hit theirs until age thirty? Older women and younger men make the best couples.” He teased, flashing a cheeky grin at her.

Her heart was beating so fast now that it felt more like a hummingbird had gotten into her chest and was frantically looking for a way out. He was teasing, she told herself. * He’s just being [I]Bono{/I]*.

“Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man…” He sang softly as they danced, his breath hot against her cheek. She wondered if he could feel her shaking. Maybe it was only on the inside, she thought. She hoped so. She couldn’t give in to this crush, couldn’t risk losing everything again.

“Bono…” she tried to speak, to break the spell he was weaving, but her voice cracked and caught in her throat. She felt the brush of his cheek against her own and knew she was lost, even before his mouth covered hers. The moment of anticipation between when she knew he was going to kiss her and when their lips met was surreal. It was like torture, but at the same time it was wonderful.

Then his hand slid up into her hair, his thumb stroking her cheek, and his mouth met hers. She felt the world melt away, her eyes drifting shut instinctively as his the tip of his tongue traced the seam of her lips, begging entrance. She yielded to her own desire and let him in, the delicate invasion making a significant statement. He had defeated her defenses so easily it was pathetic. Then again, he had been slowly working away at them for months now.

Their mouths moved in time with their bodies as they continued to sway to the memory of the music. When they finally parted to breathe Natalie was as dizzy as if she’d spent the whole night drinking.

“This is a bad idea.” She told him, smiling weakly. She knew it was all but inevitable; if he wanted her she was his. It didn’t make it any wiser of a move, even if there was no choice about it.

“No one has to know. Not if you don’t want them to.” He told her, his lips brushing her ear as he rubbed his cheek against hers, then nuzzled her neck with soft kisses. Finally, he rubbed his nose against hers, his hands on either side of her face as they stopped moving.

“You think we can really do that?”

“Yes, I do. No one has said anything about Paris.” He pointed out. “I don’t know about sneaking around, but I know I want to be closer to you. If that’s what it takes, then we’ll make it work.”

“I want that, too.” She admitted, letting him brush a whispery kiss over her lips before sighing and stepping back away from him. “But we really have to be careful to keep it… whatever it is… private.” She could see in his eyes that he understood. She was scared, but she had been scared someone would see her feelings through out the first leg of the tour. She was still scared but now she was excited.

He wanted to be with her. Her Bono. He wanted her. She smiled so hard her cheeks hurt, turning to walk away and glancing back over her shoulder at him.

“When can we …?” he asked, holding his hands out in question. “How are we supposed to get time alone?”

“I’ll figure something out.” She told him, descending the steps still feeling lighter than air.


Alyx played the conversation back in her head for the hundredth time. She had been useless all day, her mind constantly returning to the phone call she had received the night before. She was sure the article she had finally submitted was total shite, but then again the band she had been critiquing had been complete shite as well. Now, as she walked home in the foggy evening air she wondered if the job was even worth the pay.

It really wasn’t what she wanted to do, but it was better than waiting tables or cleaning hotel rooms. She’d hated those jobs more than any other she’d worked. She did what she had to do in order to pay rent on her small London flat, and to keep her stocked with the art supplies she loved so dearly.

She’d been doing well enough to even eat quite well, of late. That was a nice thing, but she could go without much to eat; she’d lived on toast and tea for weeks at a time and would do it again if that was what it took. She was on her own, and she was free of Ballymun. Free of the towers. Free of her past.

She didn’t have much furniture, just a second hand sofa (which also served as her bed), a folding table and three mismatched chairs. She had her record player and records on a set of shelves which was simply planks of untreated lumber balanced on concrete blocks. Still, she had two easels and another set of makeshift shelves with canvases and paints, charcoal pencils and sketch pads. Her paintings hung on the walls, sat on the floors leaning against the walls and some were suspended from the water stained drop ceiling.

She squinted as the florescent lights blinked on and looked around the shabby flat. It was warm in the winter, dry in the rain, and it was all hers. She decided could handle reviewing dodgy bands for the right to live her own life. Maybe someday she would even sell her painting to a gallery and would be able to earn her way by doing what she loved.

That thought brought her back to Larry and U2. They were young and already well on their way to being something big. They were already making a living doing what they loved most. He had just turned 20. When she was 20 years old, Alyx had been lost and full of a despair few people ever knew. At least, few people ever recovered from that sort of sorrow. Four years later, and she was hardly the same person.

She looked at the canvas on one of the easels, looked at the familiar steel blue eyes and wondered how upset he would be if he knew she was painting him. She didn’t need his permission to paint a portrait of him if it were just for her own personal collection, after all. Only if she wanted to display it publicly or to sell it.

She had the photos she’d taken of him at the concerts tacked to a corkboard on the wall beside the easel as reference. She’d rather have him there in person, but the photos weren’t bad. The posed ones weren’t actually worth much at all to her. He might as well put on a mask when he knew people were looking at him. No, it was when he was at the drums that his spirit shone through in his eyes.

It was then that she could see the scars. At least, that was what she had thought. That was her current collection, ‘Scars’. The name of the collection gave people pause (the few people she had allowed to see what she was working on) because the models for the portraits were seemingly flawless.

That was the nature of the subject. The scars were on the inside, and to someone who didn’t know any better, the person bearing them was beautiful. People were drawn to them, fascinated by them. They saw beauty, sexuality, youth, or innocence… a myriad of things. But no one ever saw the scars. No one except the other survivors.

She looked at the painting now and could hear his voice almost as perfectly as if he were sitting there beside her.

“Paul wants to hire someone to tour with us and document the rest of the tour.” He had told her abruptly. He was not used to being the one who started conversations. No, all Larry ever had to do was sit back and people came to him. He didn’t have to like it for that to be true.

“And you thought of me?” She’d asked, her thoughts spilling out before she had a chance to censor herself.

“You did a great job on the article and review.” He informed her, letting the conversation fall into silence. Finally he was forced to break the uncomfortable quiet. “And it would be nice to have someone with a familiar accent, to tell you the truth.” He said, and Alyx’s heart had skipped a beat.

“A Dublin accent? Don’t you get enough of that with the other three?” She asked, then laughed as she recalled Adam and Edge’s unique accents. “Ok, I guess Bono’s the only one with the same accent. But he talks enough for three or four people, doesn’t he?”

This statement had earned a snort of surprised laughter from the young man, and Alyx had to bite her lower lip to keep from chuckling. His laughter was contagious.

“I’d rather hear your voice than his any day.” He said, making every moving part of her body come to a grinding halt in surprise. Had she heard him say that correctly? “I’m sorry about… whatever it was that made you run off that night. I really liked talking with you. I haven’t met a lot of people in your line of work who I’ve been comfortable around.”

She was glad he couldn’t see the stupid grin on her face, because she sure couldn’t seem to get rid of it.
She had agreed to consider the job, but made him wait for an answer. She needed to work some things out before running off to the United States with some rock band, after all. He had promised to call her back tonight. She still hadn’t decided. She knew what she wanted to do. She knew what the smart thing would be. They were completely the opposite of one another, as usual.

She only had a few hours to decide. Should she decide with her head, or her heart?

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Old 02-22-2006, 12:13 AM   #2
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Oh, and in case you didn't already guess....

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Old 02-22-2006, 01:40 AM   #3
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I love this story, SG! And wow - Bono is in this chapter! Can't wait for more!
Insert something interesting here
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Old 02-22-2006, 07:10 AM   #4
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omg Bono the little devil striked again I really wonder how they could ever keep that secret.....
it's really cool that this fanfic is not just about one bandmember, but about ALL FOUR!
I've never seen anybody doing that this well... I love it! now I need more
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Old 02-22-2006, 07:35 AM   #5
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SG is great writing about all four band members in her stories, and she does it so well
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Old 02-22-2006, 10:14 AM   #6
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Old 02-22-2006, 01:52 PM   #7
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Old 02-22-2006, 04:02 PM   #8
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I wish I could be standing in Nat's place as Bono kissed her making her head spin!! WOWZA...SG...the detail and decription queen... I worship thee.

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Old 02-22-2006, 04:52 PM   #9
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Brilliant! Can't wait to read more.
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Old 02-22-2006, 07:40 PM   #10
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great as always SG!
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Old 02-23-2006, 04:21 AM   #11
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fantastic writing again SG
can't wait for the next chapter
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Old 02-23-2006, 03:44 PM   #12
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Old 02-23-2006, 07:30 PM   #13
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I just went back to check, and yes, I have given feedback on this story before. On chapter five...
I'm not really good at this, 'cause I always tell everyone I love their stories (which I do) and I never have anything constructive to say. However, I still love how you get inside their head and keep things in character. I still hope that Edge wins the girl, even if Adam is so sweet, and Bono and Natalie... too good for words!
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Old 02-23-2006, 08:39 PM   #14
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Originally posted by Sad_Girl
“I must urinate!” Bono replied, speaking loudly and over-enunciating his words
Forgot to mention this before, but this is the BEST line so far!
Insert something interesting here
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Old 02-24-2006, 06:26 AM   #15
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Can't wait for the next chapter
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Old 02-24-2006, 05:52 PM   #16
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Nice chapter !!
I still love the Bono parts a lot, but I'm also starting to (naturally) focus on Larry now

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