|12-07-2006, 08:33 AM||#1|
Blue Crack Supplier
Join Date: Mar 2005
Location: completely out of touch
Local Time: 10:29 PM
Someone Else's Dream - Chapter 19
U2, unfortunately, are not mine. They are real people who I have written about here in a fictional situation that never happened. I don’t have their permission to use their likenesses, but I make no money from the story and it really is just all meant in good fun. Remember, please, that this is just a twisting, turning story out of my imagination which should not reflect upon the band or the individuals within it. It’s only make-believe. There will be some adult themes within this story, and almost undoubtedly a lot of offensive language. Read at your own discretion.__________________
Catalina Chronicles Book 4:
Someone else’s dream
You with the sad eyes
Don't be discouraged
Oh I realize
It's hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside you
Can make you feel so small
But I see your true colors
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful,
Like a rainbow
from ‘True Colors’ by Cyndi Lauper
Simone rang the buzzer at the gate even though she knew the security code by heart. She hadn’t had a chance to call and let Tessa know she was coming and she hated to drop by without any warning. She identified herself to her friend through the speaker and Tessa invited her to come up, teasing her about worrying too much.
“It’s not like we’re romping around the place naked or something,” she joked.
“Well, you never know. It’s always the quiet ones,” Simone teased back before driving her sleek little Jaguar XK8 up the drive. It had been the one thing she had really splurged on with Larry’s money, and although at the time she felt a little guilty letting him buy her something as expensive as a sports car, lately she had lost most of that guilt. She did love the car; its metallic blue body shimmered in the sun and the leather seats were as comfortable as her bed at home. The V8 engine purred like a lion and made her feel free when she got it out on the open road. She was an American girl, after all, and to many Americans the automobile is the epitome of freedom and power.
Bono had more than once tried to convince her to let him take it for a spin, but thankfully she had been forewarned about his driving skills, or lack thereof. Larry had driven it only once, in fact. Adam had, too because she couldn’t resist the way he said the word jaguar ‘Jag-you-are’. She was still a sucker for men with accents, even having been out of the United States for several years now, and Adam’s was one of the best she’d heard.
More than once, in recent weeks, she’d wondered if it would make Larry jealous to know that Adam had been behind the wheel of the Jag more than he had. It was one of those silly little fantasies which she kept to herself but which almost always brought a smile to her lips. It was an empowering little secret snub for the emotional bruises she was still nursing.
She slowed to a stop, shifted into neutral and engaged the parking brake smiling to herself at the imagined scowl that would form on Larry’s handsome face at the revelation. His eyebrows would draw together and his forehead would wrinkle, though not deeply (she wished she could bottle the secret of his seemingly ageless skin), and his generous mouth would twist downward in an almost comical frown. She didn’t bother taking the keys out of the ignition as she gathered up the two bulky envelopes and delivered them to the front door where Tessa was now waiting to greet her.
“Are those what I think they are?” Tessa asked after hugging her friend. She was looking tentatively at the envelopes; as if afraid they contained some sort of dark secrets which could destroy entire civilizations. Simone chuckled at her reaction and nodded in affirmation.
“Yes, these are the photos I took; both sets. I think they’re beautiful, personally. I hope you’ll approve, because I would love to use them for this collection. I think they would finish the set off, and I could see about that gallery opening I was working on last year,” She informed Tessa, knowing full well she was giving her a guilt trip.
“I have to look at them first, Simone. I don’t think you understand just what a big deal it was for me to pose for them in the first place!” Tessa laughed nervously. “Some of us don’t have your body or your confidence,” she added, taking the envelopes from Simone’s hand.
“Look at them, Tessa. They are some of the most beautiful nudes I’ve ever shot, and you’ve seen some of the models that I’ve worked with,” Simone told her encouragingly.
“I remember one in particular,” Tessa joked, referring to the controversial set of pictures Simone had snapped of Larry. That set had caused more trouble for Simone than she’d wanted, and she’d ended up destroying them. He cheeks flushed red at the memory and both women laughed softly.
“I won’t pressure you, Tessa, but I really do think they are some of my best work. The set just isn’t complete without them,” Simone told her seriously. Tessa nodded solemnly and agreed to consider allowing her to use the pictures in the collection of photos Simone had been working on for the past year or more. It was a series of nudes featuring people with scars, marks that reminded them they were survivors, Simone had said.
Tessa had seen the others and had been so moved by them that she had wept. And then she had done something so utterly out of character she still wondered where she’d found the courage. She’d posed for Simone, revealing the scars she’d hidden for half her life now, as well as the new scars from the lumpectomy.
She had not said a word to anyone but Simone about it; not even Edge. Now she had the chance to back out, or the chance to finish what she’d started.
“You know – Edge hasn’t even seen me naked, since the surgery,” she blurted out. She hadn’t thought she could be embarrassed with Simone, but as soon as the words were out she felt as naked as she had been that day in Simone’s quiet, secluded studio. The shocked look on Simone’s face was just comical enough to overcome her awkwardness, and Tessa heard herself laughing before she realized she was.
“I knew you were self conscious, Tessa, but I had no idea it was to that extent. Oh, God! I… I don’t need to use these for the collection…” Simone stammered, pausing to frown when Tessa laughed, trying to figure out if it had been a strange joke of some sort.
“I’ll look at them. I trust you, and you really do beautiful work. Besides, it’s ridiculous – debilitating even, this inability to be comfortable in my own skin. It’s not just the surgery, I mean, having a piece of my breast removed was devastating to my self esteem as a woman, but even before that I wore nighties when we were together, to cover up the scars from the attack. Maybe this – well, it’s been freeing. I think this is something I needed, more than you can know,” she said, revealing more of herself to Simone than she had to anyone in years. She brushed away a tear and Simone hugged her unexpectedly.
“Tessa, you are the strongest woman I know, and you are beautiful in so many ways,” she said, her own eyes wet when she stepped back from the hug. “I am honored that you trust me this much, honored to be your friend.”
“You’re like a sister to me, hon,” Tessa assured her, hugging her again. “And coming from you, what you just said is the best compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
The women said their good-bye’s, both laughing and crying at the same time, and Tessa moved into the house to look over the contents of the envelopes. The first envelope contained the series of pictures Simone had taken for the Breast Cancer Awareness foundation, and they were breathtaking. This series she had already signed off on, allowing Simone to use whichever shots she thought were best for the campaign. The second envelope contained the nudes, and Tessa could hardly believe the woman she saw on paper was her.
In her mind, and in the mirror, she had seen the scars as horrific; uglier than ugly reminders of an evil thing which had been done to her. Her more recent scars were the marks of her body’s failure; a sickness which had developed inside of her and had to be removed and killed. There was no beauty in the way they left her skin discolored, rough lines across her torso which made her think of the stitches of a rag doll.
What she saw in the photos was not ugly. Simone was truly gifted, her camera as true an instrument for art in her hands as a guitar was in Edge’s or a pencil could be in Tessa’s own hand. She saw a masterpiece before her; a perfect representation of the human condition. It was not the sort of beauty that you saw on magazine covers, but the type of beauty which took your breath away and left you dazed; it was awe inspiring. It reached straight into a person and touched their innermost hearts.
It would be a crime to not allow her to display these. There was no shame to be found in any of them. She had left Tessa’s face in shadow in most of them, anyway, or had revealed just the hint of her profile. These were not pictures of her broken body, but of her enduring spirit.
Before she even knew she was moving, Tessa gathered the pictures up and headed to Edge’s studio. It wasn’t that she needed his permission to go through with this, as some women might need from their husbands; it was her body, after all. It was out of respect for his judgment and creative sensibility that she went to him.
“Are you busy?” she asked from the doorway, knowing that if the door was open he didn’t mind an interruption. If he had closed the door, he was so deeply involved in what he was working on she could probably have walked in on fire and had a hard time getting his attention.
“Come on in,” He invited, moving the acoustic guitar that occupied the seat next to him on the sofa so she could sit close to him. He still had an electric guitar on his lap, but his attention was on her. She smiled meekly and drew a deep breath, handing the photos to him without a word of explanation. She wished she had a camera of her own right then to capture the look of surprise on his face as his mind registered what his eyes were seeing. She bit back a chuckle, her cheeks growing redder by the second as she watched him study the images.
“What … um, what…?” He stammered, glancing up at her but then back at the photos as if certain he’d imagined them. Tessa explained the project, how she had posed for Simone a little less than a week earlier, and that she thought the pictures belonged in the series. He blinked those beautiful, mysterious sea green eyes at her and her stomach twisted into a million tiny knots. Then, just when she was ready to change her mind about everything, he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly.
“I don’t think a day goes by that you don’t surprise and amaze me,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers, his surprisingly gentle hand in her hair. Because of the way it had thinned, even with the newer form of radiation they’d used to treat her cancer, she had gotten it cut boy-short for the first time in her life. It was quite flattering on her, making her seem younger. He had described her as ‘pixie-ish’ when she first had it done. It had been a pleasant surprise to discover that his hand in her hair still felt as good as when it had been long.
“I’m not sure if that’s good or bad,” she replied with a nervous chuckle.
“It’s good,” he assured her with a broad smile. “It’s very good.” He kissed her again, lingering this time, his breath against hers as erotic a caress as the softness of the inside of his mouth contrasted against the bristle of his whiskers. The atmosphere changed as completely as if day had turned to night or if a sudden storm had blown in from the sea; and Tessa allowed herself to succumb to it completely. She kissed Edge with a depth of passion she rarely allowed herself to show, her hands sliding up the wiry muscle of his back to pull him closer.
He cursed the guitar in his lap as it came between them, discarding it thoughtlessly onto the floor. His eagerness to be close to her made Tessa’s heart pound, her pulse throbbing in her temples, making her dizzy and short of breath. She sighed when his hands breached the lower hem of her shirt and grazed the skin on her sides, lifting her arms and allowing him to undress her for the first time since the surgery.
It was gloriously freeing, being completely naked with him in the middle of the day in his studio – she felt like a teenager with her first boyfriend, like an animal that had escaped from a trap, knowing the joy of running free as she had never recognized it before.
They made love there, on the sofa, amongst Edge’s guitars and keyboards and sound equipment with the lights on and nothing whatsoever between them. He moved in slow, deliberate, deep, circular motions that were as smooth and natural as the waves of the ocean against the rocks. She wrapped herself around him and was swept away completely in the moment, connected to him in a way she had never been to anyone in her entire life.
Laney was sobbing, weeping like a child who had just lost her puppy. Bono could do nothing but stare at her in open-mouthed shock, stupefied and silenced by fear and confusion. Only a moment before she had been angry, ranting about something one of the nurses had done at work. A moment before that she had been smiling, teasing him about the way he wore his shirt half unbuttoned, revealing a generous amount of hairy chest for anyone who might want to ogle at him. She looked up now and saw how mystified and terrified he was, and she began to laugh; which, of course, only made it worse.
“Damned hormones!” she cursed, reaching out to stroke his cheek reassuringly. “I hate this. I want to get pregnant so badly but these fertility treatments are making me completely mad, aren’t they?”
Bono wanted to agree by was afraid of her reaction if he did. She could see it in his eyes. She laughed at herself and ran a slender hand through her soft red hair.
“We can’t do this,” she sighed. “It’s not going to work.”
“I want to have children with you, Laney-love, but…” Bono paused mid-sentence to be sure her mood had not already changed, then continued, “I miss you. I miss my logical, reasonable wife. Two people who operate on sheer emotion is a recipe for disaster, and I think we both know I’m too old to change my ways now.” He grinned at the last part, his boyish, lop-sided smile that had won her heart more than half a lifetime ago.
“I know,” she laughed. It was true; she loved the way his emotions led him – but her more reserved nature had balanced his life out perfectly. “I’m going to stop. We’d be in emotional, psychological and financial ruins by the time we had a baby at this rate.” She sank into him as he wrapped his arms around her, resting her head on his shoulder and sighing contentedly as his heat seeped into her.
“We’ll find a way,” he promised, kissing the top of her head. “There’s always surrogacy, or adoption.”
“There are plenty of children who need someone, I know. I just wanted one with your smile,” she told him honestly.
“And your eyes,” he added with a gentle nod. They stood there in each others arms for a long while, mourning as surely as if she had been pregnant and miscarried. They had been trying so hard, had gone through so much that their grief was palpable. If someone had walked into the room just then, they would almost have been able to see it, like an aura of color surrounding them, like a scent in the air.
When the phone rang, neither of them moved to answer it at first, but when it kept ringing, Laney kissed Bono gently and told him to answer it. She released her hold on him and went to shower and change out of her work clothes. They could go out to dinner, later, she offered and he smiled sadly and agreed.
Laney wept in the shower, praying for God’s guidance and strength. She had wanted this so badly that the defeat was devastating, even as she accepted it as the truth. She needed a new goal, something to put her energy into, and something to occupy her mind and devote herself to.
She dried herself and dressed in a pair of comfortable jeans and one of Bono’s purple button-down shirts – a favorite of hers on him or on herself. She could smell his cologne on the collar. She tied it at the bottom, leaving a hint of her pale belly showing below and a glimpse of cleavage above. She loved it when he looked at her as if she were the sexiest woman he knew; loved the flirtatious games he was so good at playing.
She opened the door and heard him rush down the hallway toward her. She knew something life-changing had happened even before he spoke. It was in his eyes. He picked her up and squeezed her as if it had been a month since they parted. He stepped back, his hands still resting on her hips as he looked into her eyes and shared the news with her. Never before had she had a prayer answered so quickly and so obviously.
“Trine’s pregnant,” he said breathlessly. “She wants to talk to us about adoption.”
|12-07-2006, 10:06 AM||#2|
Join Date: Sep 2005
Local Time: 02:29 AM
Good lookin', there, young lady! By the way, love your sig and avatar. Especiallyt the sig. That is such an evil smile.__________________
|12-07-2006, 10:53 AM||#3|
Join Date: Oct 2005
Location: Schoo Fishtank
Local Time: 04:29 AM
wow, I would've never thought of this way to go with Trine's baby! This story keeps giving me surprises
|12-07-2006, 01:14 PM||#4|
Join Date: Sep 2006
Local Time: 06:29 PM
Oh my god!!!!!!
This just gets better and better!!!
I just....just can't believe what's happening here!! Trine giving them her baby and.....and :Flails arms weakly: What's happening next!? I have to know!!!!
It's okay. I'm fine now. Just put up the next bit soon!! Please?
|12-07-2006, 06:20 PM||#5|
Join Date: Sep 2004
Location: Ontario Canada
Local Time: 09:29 PM
You know it would be really evil if you put up a chapter like this, and left us hanging too long.
P.S. Oh! and you do know I would still read the next chapter and love it, no matter how long you took right?....good! just checking
|12-08-2006, 12:59 AM||#7|
Blue Crack Supplier
Join Date: Jun 2005
Location: Wishing I was on the beach
Local Time: 07:29 PM
Fantastic chapter! I love it!
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