|09-25-2005, 06:28 PM||#1|
Join Date: Feb 2005
Local Time: 09:38 PM
The Making of the Man
OK, my sister and I have been working on this for a while! It's our first fic so please be gentle! It will be slightly AU as we may not get some of the dates/events right and this is our own twist on baby U2. We have tried our best and hope you like it Your comments would be great!__________________
*** This is a work of fiction and although inspired by real people this story is not meant to represent them in any way ***
The youth crossed his arms in defiance. He was a slight lad of about seventeen years old, with bright blue eyes and wavy black hair. Although small for his age, he had strikingly good looks. At that moment though, he had of face of thunder and his piercing eyes were flashing angrily at the older man stood in front of him. The other man shook his head at his son and spoke sternly to him.
“I said no Paul, you are going to college and that is final!”
Paul scowled at his Father.
“Da please,” he responded. “Adam and Dave’s Da’s both say they can concentrate on the band and not go to college”.
The older man walked past his son and waved his hand back at him dismissively
“I do not care what Adam Clayton and that Evan’s lad are doing, they do not concern me but you do Paul. You will be enrolling in the morning, mark my word”
Paul shook his head at his Father and dismissed his words.
“No, Da. I won't. And that is my final word on the matter”
He stormed passed his Father and marched upstairs, slamming his bedroom door behind him.
Bob Hewson shook his head as he looked after his son. Paul was so alike him in so ways. Bob knew how much the band meant to Paul but he had to make his son understand. Young men needed “proper” career, something to fall back on when the pipe dream ended. His son needed to get his head out of the clouds and his father would make him see that, whether he wanted too or not.
Paul “Bono” Hewson sparked up a fag and leant out his bedroom window. He did not need a lecture from his Father about his smoking tonight - that damn college was annoying enough. He was so frustrated, why couldnt he make his Father understand. It seemed simple to Bono. Have a year off to practise as a band, get tight together and write lots of material to take to the big record producers in Dublin. They were good enough, they had raw talent. The Hype would be massive, of that Bono Hewson was certain.
A loud knock at the front door arose Bono from his musings. He jumped off his bed and clambered down the stairs, making it to the door just before his Father. He opened the door and saw his band mates Adam Claydon and Dave Evans waiting for him. He smiled warmly at them.
Adam was the slightly older looking of the two. Sporting a blonde afro and big glasses, he lounged lazily against the door frame, ciggie in his hand. Dave smiled happily at Bono. He again was a slight lad, though taller then Paul, with blue eyes and brown hair.
“Hey guys” Bono greeted them “Lets get going.”
He slammed the door, but not before hearing his father warning that he better be home by eleven, if Paul knew what was good for him.
Bono rolled his eyes and began to move away but Edge gave his friend a look of concern and nodded back towards the door.
“He OK mate?”
Bono shook his head so violently that his hair brushed over his eyes, which were glistening angrily.
“No, he bloody ain’t Dave” He said, “He's got this idea in his head that im going to that college tomorrow to enrole – wants me to do some phony business course.” He laughed hollowly. “He’s off his bloody rocker if he thinks I am going anywhere near that place.”
Dave looked at his best friend sympathetically. He knew that Bono and his Father were at logger heads most of the time but somhow this was different. Bono seemed a little more pissed off then normal.
Adam spoke up. “You know, if it would please your old man, maybe you should go for now, Bono.” He stopped quickly when he saw Bono turn to him angrily, his blue eyes flashing.
“I mean,” he added hurriedly, “Larry is still in school for the next 6 months so we can afford for you to go. We can only really rehearse at night any way.”
Dave nodded in agreement but Bono shook his head defiantly again.
“I 'm not going lads.” He snapped, obstinately. “If The Hype are gonna make it big then we need to start now, we all know that Larry can leave school after his exams, his Da said that to me.”
Bono suddenly stopped, something dawning on him for the first time that evening.
“Where IS Larry, guys.”
Dave smiled at Bono.
“You are not the only one with parent issues mate.”
Adam nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, dear Lawrence is grounded for a week for missing his homework deadline twice.”
“I’d like to see my Da try to ground me,” he said, a wicked smile on his lips, causing the other two to exchange looks. “Anyway,” Bono continued, “shall we go and practise without him or write some stuff then?”
Dave wrapped his arm around the smaller guy.
“Come on Bono, lets go make music.”
Bono sang the last line of Stories For Boys, pleased with the progress they had made with the song. Between them they had written nearly the whole thing.
He grinned at Dave.
“That is sounding great isn’t it” he said enthusaticly “That last guitar rift is excellent Dave, I love it”
Dave grinned back at Bono and over at Adam
“Yeah, it is starting to sound great Bono,” he said, nodding in agreement. He took a quick glance at his watch.
“Hadn’t you better be getting home mate, it is nearly 11.45pm.” He asked Bono with a slight frown.
Bono glared crossly at the guitarist but, knowing Dave was right and that he was in for a stern telling off when he got home, he gave in. The singer let out a loud sigh and then switched of his mike.
“Lets call it a night then guys, great rehearsal though.”
The other two nodded.
“We’ll clean up here Bono, you get home before you get grounded too” Adam said teasingly with a playful smile at his lead singer.
Bono playfully punched Adam.
“Piss off Clayton” he said, called out a rushed good bye and then headed home.
Bono reached his front door and his heart sank as he saw that the living room light was still on. That meant only one thing, his father had waited up for him. Bono really did not need a row right then but he knew there was no way to avoid the inevitable. He took a deep breath, opened the front door and walked in. He saw that his Father was sat in the living room, the TV and radio both turned off.
“Hi Da,” Bono said in a small voice.
“Get in here, Paul.” His Dad said in a quiet but dangerous voice.
“Sit down,” he said as his son walked into the room. He nodded to a chair opposite him, his eyes still trained on Bono.
Bono sat down and looked at his Father, that defiant look in his blue eyes again.
“Tell me Paul,” he said softly, “When I said be in at eleven, what did you think I meant?”
Bono swallowed, doing his best to look meek and sorry, two expressions that did not come easily to him.
“Da, I am sorry. We lost track of time that’s all”.
Bob looked at his son coldly.
“Are you going to answer my question or not?” He said, still not raising his voice.
Bono didn't know what to say. He merely sat there quietly, his eyes on his feet.
Bob watched him for a moment and then leaned towards his son, his voice shaking with anger.
“You have no respect for me at all do you?”
Bono raised his eyes to stare at his father. He decided the best course of action was to stay silent as he didnt trust himself to answer. Bob continued to lecture his youngest son, his tone getting louder by the second.
“All I want is for you is to go to college and get some proper qualifications and score yourself a good job. You are a bright lad, Paul, you could go a long way.”
Bono nodded in agreement with his Father.
“Yes Da, I know and I will go far, I promise you that. You should hear us Da, we are getting really good”.
“The band.” He whispered.
Bono nodded at him enthusaticly
“Yes Da, the band. Why don’t you believe me? I am a good singer you know,” he added rather indignantly. “The lads are all great musicians and we are writing some great songs.” His tone became almost pleading. “Why can't you give us a chance?”
Bob gave Paul an annoyed glance and shook his head.
Bono nodded, trying to keep his anger in check. “OK then Da,” he said quietly, “don't believe me, in fact, don't have anything to do with it. The Hype are going to be massive, I'm going to be massive and I will not hold myself back by spending a year at that s****y college just because it would please you!”
Bob looked angerly at his son
“It would not be to please me Paul. It's to create a future for yourself.” He waved a hand in Bono's general direction. “This discussion is closed. You will be enrolling at that College in the morning and that is the end of it! Now, off to bed with you!”
Bono was starting to lose his cool completely, this was all so pointless, they were just going round in circles.
“Yes Dad, whatever you say.” He said rudely. “It must be you going mad with old age if you seriously think I am going to that f*****g college!
With that, Bono stood up and began to walk out of the room.
Bob leapt to his feet and shouted after his headstrong son.
“Don’t walk away from me, boy!”
Bono turned around and all but sneered at his Father.
“Boy,” he muttered and then gave his father a look of complete distaste.
“I am not a child, dad,” he said, his eyes glinting, “I'm a man who knows what he wants and what I want is to be the lead singer of The Hype and that is exactly what I am going to do”
He turned away again.
“Over my dead body, young man!” Bob shouted at him.
Bono slowed up a bit and called over his shoulder,
“Yeah, well never mind. S**t Happens!”
Bob, now incensed, marched over to his son, swung him round and slapped him hard across the face.
“How dare you,” he roared, “You miserable, arrogant, little..” He stopped and eyed his son closely, trying to catch his breath.
Bono’s hand went incentively to his left cheek and he stared at his father, a hurt but very angry look on his face.
Finally, he found his voice and shouted in his dads face, “Who needs a father like you anyway? All you do is criticise me and interfere in my life. I don't want you involved Da, can't you see that?”
Bob stared back at his son, equally as angry.
“I do not interfere Paul, I am your father, it's my right to be involved and see that you make the right choices.” He paused before adding, “This attitude of yours, it has to change.” He turned away from Bono muttering, “you've gone downhill rapidly since you've been hanging around with that Clayton lad.”
Bono rolled his eyes.
“What has any of this got to do with Adam?” He asked lazily
“He is a bad sort.” His Dad answered. “Getting expelled from one of the best schools in the area and arriving at Mount Temple thinking he owns the place! And then, he gets expelled from there too, for streaking around the corridors – no less! And you ask me why I think he's a bad influence?”
Paul lowered his eyes and opened his mouth but his Dad spoke across him, “And now here he is filling your head with delusions of grandure. He even has you believing you could be a rock star!” Bob almost spat out the last two words to his son.
Bono clenched his fists.
“He has learnt his lesson Dad.” He said, “And anyway, the band was Larry Mullen’s idea, you know that quiet lad you like?” Bob frowned but didnt reply, he was growing impatient, there was no getting through to the boy.
Bono shook his head in despair and turned away from his dad again before saying in a quiet voice, “I don’t get it Da. You were a singer.” Bono paused before adding, “You know I can do this. Why can't you support me?”
Bob didnt reply to Bono. Now at the end of his tether, he glared back at his dad and snapped:
“Mam would have understood.”
Bob’s eyes fixed quickly on his son's, his face now cold and staring. This was in comparison to Bono who was finding it hard not too tremble with anger. There was a few seconds as they silently eyeballed eachother.
When Bob did speak, it was in the same dangerous tone that he had used when Bono had first entered the room. “You don't know what you are talking about Paul. Your Mother would have agreed with me, she always wanted...”
As usual his voice trailed off, he just could not bring himself to talk about his wife, who had died three years earlier.
Bono stared at his Father, his eyes blazing,
“What Da?” The young man whispered, urging his father to continue. “What did she say, what did she want for me?”
Bob stood, staring back at his son. He would not continue, he could not find the words that he knew his son craved to hear. He closed his eyes.
Bono now lost it completely. He threw all caution to the wind and moved in threateningly to his father. He waved a finger in his dads face and shouted, “What was it, eh! Let me guess, nothing! A big fat round f*****g nothing!”
Bob grabbed his son’s arm painfully.
“You watch your language, young man!”
Bono laughed rudely at him, roughly pulling his arm away.
“Watch my language?” He scoffed. “You wonder why I get so upset. I've had enouigh of living in silence Dad”
He could feel the anger surging through his body and his voice rose up with every word he threw at his Father.
“You tell me that mum apparently said all these wonderful heartfelt things about me and what have you told me? Nothing, Da, Sweet F**k All. You know what it would mean to me to hear what she said but you still don't tell me! You are such a poor excuse for a parent. Your opinion doesnt mean anything to me. I am going to live my life for me, do what I want to do. And do you know what it is I want to do Da? Be the lead singer of The Hype and be f*****g famous. And that father is just what I am going to F*****G – WELL – DO!
Bono was now stood inches away from his Father and had shouted those last words in his face. Bob gazed at him for a moment, his face blank. Then, his expression full of venom, he backhanded Paul hard across the face with such force that his son's head snapped to one side. Bono brought his hand to his lip shakily and felt the blood that was slightly trickling there.
The shock brought him back to his senses, he had over-stepped the line.
“Da, I’m Sorry” He spoke softly, his head down in shame.
“Get to bed.” Bob told him coldly. “now.”
Bono looked up then and saw the hurt and anger in his fathers eyes.
“Da, I’m sorry”, he offered again. “Please, lets talk properly.”
Bob glared at his son.
“I won’t tell you again, Paul, now if you don’t want a beating you will get out of my sight.”
Bono turned and walk away from his Father, feeling choked.
“I just need to know what she said,” he whispered under his breath. His dad didnt hear him.
Bob turned away from his son, sat back down in his chair and turned the TV on. The conversation was over.
Bono went slowly upstairs and into his bedroom, closing the door and threw himself on his bed. He fought to keep control, he was stonger than this.
He looked over at his nightstand at the photo of his mother, picked it up and laid it on the pillow next to his head, he lovinly ran a finger over his Mother’s face.
“Mam” He whispered, “why did you leave me here alone?”
He lowered his head and allowed one lone tear to fall down his face.
|09-26-2005, 02:56 PM||#2|
Join Date: May 2005
Location: Inside Bono's Mind
Local Time: 08:38 PM
God...it's SOOOOOO sad...I just want to Hug Bono...poor him...he's all alone and all...might indeed have been difficlut to live without his mother!!!__________________
|09-27-2005, 11:12 AM||#4|
Join Date: Aug 2004
Local Time: 03:38 PM
Poor Bono--I feel sorry about the loss of his mother anyway. Your story is great. Looking forward to more.
|09-28-2005, 02:01 AM||#6|
Join Date: Mar 2005
Local Time: 06:38 AM
yeah, great chapter, sounds like another great story in the making, can't wait for the next bit
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