Stateless Chapter Four

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spanna

The Fly
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Aug 24, 2005
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sorry about the sporadic posts people :blush: I apologise for this next chapter, *blush, cringe, squirm* not for the easily offended :huh: but I do think it was neccesary for the premise of the story though hurting B was just the worst. :sad:

Chapter Four

Note: Bono’s point of view again

Same day, midday.


When I regain consciousness, the car is being turned off and I’m being dragged out. They immediately blindfold me though my ankles are untied and the gag is removed from my mouth. I am frogmarched through a dank, musty smelling room which I assume is a garage.

Through a doorway and up some wide stairs. Slippery, difficult to keep my balance.

My sense of smell and hearing are the only senses I have left as my hands are still tightly bound.

So tightly bound that I’m sure my circulation will be cut off. How fucking stupid of me, why didn’t I take those threats seriously. Especially the last one. That had Brian O Connell written all over it.

Through a doorway and outside. Shoes on what feels like cobbled ground.

Feel sick again, kicked in the back of my shins so I stumble to the ringing sound of their jeering laughter.

‘Heh, who’d ever have tought Bono Vox of U2 would be so feckin helpless,’ sneers Shane ‘Good Voice…dat we’re hopefully damaging. Did yer hear dat, how would yer like to be widout dat precious voice of yers. No more U2 records, no more One or feckin beautiful days.’

I mentally try to block out what they’re saying. I had a close brush with cancer last year, don’t want to face the possibility of losing everything again. An inescapable moan of protest escapes my lips before I can stop it.

‘Aww does dat scare de poor Bono, ’ he whispers right in my ear, cold fingers forming a noose around my neck. I recoil impulsively and he laughingly withdraws.

Pushed to the floor, back rammed against sharp, bumpy ground. Pockets, body being searched.

‘Stupid fucker must have dropped his wallet Shane,’ growls the other bloke digging a boot into my chest, crushing the air out of my lungs.

‘Doesn’t matter Stuart,’ Shane mumbles ‘come on, let’s get him into the stable. As long as we don’t wreck his ugly mug, the boss will recognise him. It’s Bono for feck’s sake! Not some solider or normal civilian but one of de world’s best known rock stars.’

‘Fine, fine! Get up you fucking mule.’

I struggle to my feet. So hard to keep my balance with my hands tied behind my back and no ability to see. They jeer and taunt. Grab me and then I’m being shoved through a door. Sickly odour of horseshit as my body hits concrete under a thin layer of dirty straw.

Door slams shut, left alone. Struggle with my bonds but all are fastened tightly, still finding it difficult to breathe and remain conscious. Dull throbbing in head. Pain in every part of my body…mumble all the prayers that I know. I can’t muster strength for anything else. Swallow dust that scratches my throat and stings.

I can see the irony though. Rockstar with stupidly big mouth now being silenced. That’s what they want, the IRA, silenced once and for all. Brian wants me to suffer just because I treated Helena with love. He never did, just abused and hurt her and… and no B don’t dwell on it. God I wish almost that they’d got me back in 1975 unintentionally. But not now, not now I’ve been lucky enough to find Grace.

Keep thinking, don’t lose it. I tell myself as unconsciousness threatens to drown me again. Think about something. With huge mental effort, I push the clouds from my memory and recall the day I’d met my girl.


September 8th 2000

10.00 am


It was a promotion of our latest album. A warm September morning. The band decided we should do a radio one competition to have a select gathering of fans to come to our studio for an intimate concert and preview of All That You Can’t Leave Behind.

I remember that day so well. Getting up that morning, looking as I always do at the picture of Helena and me taken just before that day in 1993. Sigh, wondering if I’d ever find anyone like that again.

The woman I spent the night with saunters in and I am repulsed by my own actions. Meaningless sex, so unsatisfying and yet addictive. I hate myself for it but what can I do? There is no one genuine out there. Affair after affair, never anything more lasting. Easier somehow, only get hurt in a long-term relationship. And fuck me if I’m going to get hurt again.

Fob her off with some promise of calling her, she leaves and I pour myself whiskey. The woman was yet another groupie who I’d invited in from where she’d stood outside my gates. Foreign, blonde and gorgeous. She only knew how to say U2 and Bono. Relief really. Quick unsatisfactory fuck and it was over. She seemed to enjoy it though. Oh shut up B, listen to yourself man. What kind of fucking cad are yer, over 40 and still just fucking around.

I travel down to the studio later. Do a little piece with Jo Whiley for the radio and then go to greet the couple of hundred fans waiting outside. Pull on persona of Bono the professional rockstar easily, sunglasses on and smile at the ready. Cameras flash, pens and memorabilia shoved at me. Look at the fans, most of their faces merging into one. Do my best to focus on each individual but I’ve found it all a lot harder recently. Much more of an effort than it ever used to be.

Edge claps me on the back and we do photos together for the hysterical fans. So tired of all this, sometimes want to disappear altogether.

‘Oi Bons,’ Edge whispers ‘big pushy fan shoving that young girl, time for yer to be her knight in shining armour.’

I glare at Edge but go to where he’s pointing.

‘Get the feck off her yer bastard!’ I cry indignantly and turn to John my bodyguard ‘take this wanker away.’

‘No, no,’ the girl faintly protests but I have her hand in mine and with The Edge’s help lift her out from the fans.

‘Honestly, you mustn’t take him away. He was being pushy but it’s probably his dream to see you guys too,’ she pants as we release her.

‘Y’know football hooligans,’ I explain ‘well that’s what he’s like, they are not welcome at matches or U2 gatherings, it is not what real fans do.’

I look at the young woman critically. Late teens possibly, brunette, nearly my height. Deep, shining eyes and beautiful.

‘Come inside honey, don’t want the crowd resenting yer,’ I take her hand firmly in mine and whisk her inside the studio.

‘But but Bono,’ she stammers ‘the other fans…’

‘They’ll be fine. Look if yer really want to be just,’ I say respecting her consideration for others and rather surprised that she’s so coherent, I don’t want to be full of myself but usually our lady fans are fainting by this stage ‘I’ll get Jo to ask you the competition questions with another runner up and if yer get them wrong, we’ll place yer back in that mad crowd. But if yer get them right, you get to hang out with us until we perform ok!? Fair?’

I look at her piercingly, to my surprise she holds my gaze with a clear, steady one of her own.

‘Yes,’ she says smiling a little ‘that’s kinder and far more considerate. Thanks for helping me back there, you didn’t have to.’

‘Don’t be silly, it was a pleasure,’ I say ‘come milady this way.’

I find Jo, Edge comes in with another fan. A young male geek who reminds me of a very young Edge, obviously the obsessive type. Oh God, they’re not going to be easy questions, I hope this girl knows what she’s doing. She’ll be much more fun than some nerd but will she really know her stuff as much as brainbox.

‘Right, no distractions. The poor kids aren’t going to get anything right with you staring at them Bono,’ says Jo ‘go and wait in the next room.

Edge and I go into the room beside them.

Jo’s voice rings loudly through the ajar door.

‘What are your names, your ages and where are you from?’

‘I’m Herbert from Frankfurt, Germany,’ says the guy thickly ‘I’m tventy eight.’

I raise my eyebrows at The Edge, mouth the words nerd to him and mime shooting myself in the head.

Edge writes this on a piece of paper and passes it to me:

“B, she’s too young for you to shag and dump. At least you won’t be trying to sleep with a nerdy student of medicine. Plus I’d like to chat to him, he’s talented.”

I’m not shocked at his response. The band have been pissed at me recently for my incessant messing around with fans. I nod sheepishly and reply with:

“Let the best mad fan win then. But if it’s the geek, you have to do most of the entertaining, I get the girl alright?”

Edge nods laughing silently and we’re ok again.

‘My name’s Grace, I’m from Edinburgh Scotland,’ she says, ‘and I just turned twenty.’

So young, I think, and pure in heart and soul. So little seems to have corrupted her, she’s been through pain, I can tell but there is an innocence there but self knowledge. A curious kind of paradox and I find her fascinating.

‘Right,’ says Jo ‘time for questions.’

Fifteen minutes later, I’m crossing my fingers. It’s a dead heat so far.

‘To which freedom fighter is the new U2 song Walk On dedicated?’

‘Nelson Mandela!’ exclaims Herbert exultantly.

‘That’s the wrong answer,’ Jo says and turns to Grace whose forehead is creased with tension ‘now Grace if you tell me correctly, you win the right to spend the rest of the afternoon with U2 before seeing the whole band give a preview of All That You Can’t Leave Behind...’

‘Erm err,’ she says hesitantly and I clench my fists, come on child ‘not sure if I can remember her name but the beautiful Burmese lady. Daw, Daw Aung San …?’

‘We’ll give you that, congratulations Grace!’ Jo exclaims ‘I’m sorry Herbert but we’ll see you later.’

I hear some soft curses in German and laughingly punch the air.

Grace is brought in by Jo.

‘Now be nice to her boys and don’t forget your manners,’ Jo laughs as she hugs Grace ‘I’ll be back later to see how they’re treating you and interviewing you for the radio ok honey.’

We each hug Grace.

‘So glad you won sweetheart,’ I whisper ‘now come and meet the rest of us…’
 
This is really good, I love the way they met but poor bono. I hope his okay. Cant wait for the next chapter
 
spanna said:


*goes to hide under massive stone*


waaaaaaaaah, speak to me YDW




It's a great story you've got here and deliciously written.

Just please tell me everything's gonna be alright w/the B... I want him back safe and warm and cosy... Edge just wouldn't be the same without him.. ;)
 
that was good Spanna, no need to worry! I really liked that you did the flashback, you did it very effectively and even though the Bono you are creating isn't the one we "know", he is very believable. I'm really enjoying your story!!!
 
This is such a good story, spanna! Breaks my heart thinking of Bono hurt and in the hands of evil nasty men, but I love the way you've developed your Bono character in such an honest and believable way.

Keep it coming :wink:
 
Yes, it's hard to see Bono hurt -- and hurting -- in this chapter. However, the character development here is excellent. :up:

More soon, please. :wink:
 
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