Thanks for all the comments, we really appreciate them. Please let us know what you think of this chapter 
Not real, complete fiction, set in Baby U2 days. We do not own Bono
or anyone else for that matter!
Enjoy!
~*~
Chapter 2
Bob rapped harshly on his son’s bedroom door.
“PAUL,” he shouted. “Get up or you'll be late!”
Bono woke up with a jump. He had only been asleep a couple of hours. He rubbed his eyes and blinked.
“What’s that?” he called out sleepily. “That you Da?”
“Yes, I want you up boy. Get yourself washed, dressed and downstairs in thirty minutes, you hear me?”
Bono groaned.
“Why?” he called out, still half asleep.
“Its simple Paul,” Bob replied loudly as he walked back down the stairs. “I don’t trust you enough to go to college on your own, so I am going to drive you there myself. Now get up, or do I have to drag you?”
Bono's heart sank. He was beaten, he knew that. He had to go to college – he had no choice. Sighing loudly, he forced himself to get up and out of bed. He wandered into the bathroom to have a quick shower and shave. Stooped over the sink, he splashed some water into his face. He glared at his reflection in the mirror, taking in his dishevelled appearance. His unruly black hair was all over the place, he knew his Dad would accuse him of looking like he had 'gone through a bush backwards.' He frowned as he saw how red his cheek still was after his run in with his father the night before. He'd have a nasty bruise there soon enough, he realised. He tenderly ran a finger over the sore area, wincing at the touch.
“That's just great,” he mumbled. He'd have a hard time explaining this away to the guys. He hated it when they poked their noses in.
He did his best to make himself look presentable, even choosing a pair of his best trousers to wear, along with a smart shirt. With a feeling of dread, he walked slowly down the stairs and reached the hallway, where his father was waiting for him. Bono glanced at his father, a sulky look on his face.
Bob took in his son's appearance and gave him a curt nod.
“You'll do, Paul,” he told him. “Well, hurry yourself up now, it won't look good to be late will it?”
Bono didn't reply, he merely shrugged.
Bob's face hardened. “And you can take that look of your face, boy,” he scolded. “This is your own fault, last night you proved that I can't trust you.”
Bono looked at his feet.
“You can, Da,” he said in a small voice. “Please don’t drive me to college like some little kid. I will go today, I promise.” He looked up at his father with pleading eyes.
Bob regarded his son for a moment and then turned away with a quick shake of his head.
“I'm sorry Paul, you brought this on yourself.” Bob moved to the front door and opened it. “Your little outburst last night was hardly grown up, was it?”
Bono tried again.
“I really am sorry, Da, I know I was out of order,” he said apologetically. “But you never listen when I try to talk about Mam.” Bob glanced at his son quickly then looked away again. Bono felt himself lose patience immediately. “Hell, it is like you couldn’t care less what I feel or think!” The frustration was too much for him and with his anger, he punched the wall beside him.
Bob's eyes widened for a moment and then in two seconds, he had regained his composure. He simply stared at Bono, there was no emotion in his eyes.
“I am not having this conversation with you again Paul,” he said, matter of factly. “There isn't the time. We have to leave now.” He moved away from the door and gestured for Bono to walk through.
Bono stood there for a moment, looking like he was about to argue for Ireland when he realised it was useless. Snatching his jacket from where he had tossed it aside lazily night before, he stormed past his father and left the house. He marched to the car, flung open the door and threw himself into the passenger seat. He sat there staring ahead frostily, his arms crossed. He didn't look at his father as Bob got into the car beside him.
Bob eyed him for a moment. “That's right Paul, keep on proving to me what an adult you are,” he goaded him, a half smile on his lips.
Bono scowled at his Dad, his sulky temper getting the better of him once again.
“Why don’t you...” he began then stopped abruptly when his dad turned to face him with a face like thunder.
“Very wise for you to stop talking for once,” Bob said quietly. “I tell you what boy, after we get home, you will go straight to your room and will stay there until I say otherwise. Do you understand?”
Bono stared at his father in dismay. “Da, you can't ground me!” He snapped.
“Watch me.” Bob replied coldly.
“But Da,” Bono said in desperation, “the lads and I, we've got a rehearsal tonight. We have to practice all the time, please.”
“That's very hard luck Paul. Perhaps you will think about that before you cheek me again. I've had enough of your attitude recently. That band of yours can cope without their star singer until he has gotten over himself.” And with that, Bob started the car.
Bono studied his hands which he had resting in his lap. His quick brain was already starting to form a plan. He would not miss one single rehearsal, and that was that.
However, he looked up at his father and replied politely, “OK Da, I'm sorry.”
Bob nodded, pulled out of the driveway and set off. Bono sat in silence for the entire journey. Outside he seemed perfectly calm, inside he was fuming.
~*~
Bob pulled up outside the college and glanced across at Bono, who was still sat staring straight ahead, his hands in his lap. He had a dejected look in his face as he eyed the college building with distaste.
“Off you go then, boy,” his dad told him. “I’ll wait here for you.”
Bono didn't reply. He silently opened his car door and got out. He slammed the door behind him, earning him a murderous look from his dad. Bono didn't react, he merely eyed his father for a moment and then strolled into the college, with the air of total unconcern.
Bono walked into the main hall of the college and looked around at the many people around him. He looked around with little interest. It just looked like school to him and that was the last place he wanted to be. He thought of Dave, Larry and Adam, he thought of his band. He felt that this whole day was a complete waste of time. Not only was he at college but he was being made to do a tedious business course which was going to bore him to tears. He mumbled under his breath about the injustice of it all and then saw a queue just ahead of him. With a sigh, he joined the back of it and waited, his hands stuck in his pockets.
'For you, mam,' he thought to himself.
As he continued to wait in line, he was losing patience rapidly. He had always hated standing around for a long time and this all felt wrong to him. By the time he reached the top of the queue, he had lost all interest. All he wanted was to get this silly business over and done with as quickly as possible.
He leant against the desk in front of him and slowly raised his eyes to look at the lady behind it. His eyebrow raised as he took in the pretty little blond sat in front of him. His face immediately broke into a warm smile.
“Hello there,” the young lady said and smiled back at him. “Could I take your name please?”
His smile widened. “You sure can,” replied. “Paul Hewson.” He leant closer. “And what's yours?”
She coughed. “Very good, Paul.” With a grin, she ticked her sheet. “And what course are you interested in?”
Bono looked at her, now thinking it over. He knew this was where he was supposed to answer with the business course he had discussed with his father. He took himself by surprise when he replied with “History of art please, mam.”
The lady nodded and handed him a form.
“Of course.” She seemed quite mesmerised by the young man's eyes. “Can you fill this in and give it back to me please?”
He picked up a pen from the desk and leaned in, saying, “Could I borrow this for a moment?” She chuckled and inclined her head. He then took the paper she offered to him and moved away from the desk. He went outside so he could smoke a ciggie as he filled out the form.
He sat himself down on a bench and quickly glanced over the paper. He frowned as he read it. Now he remembered why he was supposed to take business. Irish. He needed an Irish pass and he had completely flunked it. He chewed the end of the pen for a moment and then shrugged and wrote down a grade B. Who would bother looking into his grades, he decided? No one would care less. The way he saw it, if he had to be at this stupid place, he may as well study something that appealed to him. He made up his mind his father would prefer that too.
He finished the form and sat back enjoying the sun on his face. He finished his cigarette and then walked back into the hall. He rejoined the queue, which he was delighted to find was now a lot shorter.
As he arrived at the desk again, he flashed the same cheeky smile at the desk clerk, who melted immediately.
“OK, Paul”. She read the paper and then peered at him again. “You are a bright lad, well done on the results.”
Bono flashed his most charming smile at her. “Thanks,” he said. He leant against her desk, one hand propped under his chin, watching her closely as she continued to scan his form.
The lady smiled back it him, somewhat shyly, her attention now half on his paper and half on him. She giggled under her breath and then quickly returned her full attention to her task.
“Well Paul,” she finally announced, “this all looks fine. We'll see you here next Monday at ten for your first lecture.”
Bono beamed at her and then leant further across her desk and took her hand. Gently he smiled into her eyes and kissed her softly. “That's just grand,” he told her with a sexy smile. He then turned and swaggered back down the corridor, the desk girl gazing longingly after him.
~*~
As Bono swaggered back down the hall towards the exit, he bumped into someone. “Sorry,” he mumbled without looking up. He stopped when he heard a gentle voice say “Bono?”
He looked around at the girl and his face broke into a smile when he saw Ali Stewart watching him.
“Ali,” he said, pleased to see her. “What are you doing here?”
Ali was a pretty girl who was in Dave’s class at Mount Temple. She and Paul had been getting close for a while and he had been trying to pluck up the courage all summer to ask her out on a date.
Ali grinned at him. “I'm here to enrol in a Child Development class. I wasn't expecting to see you here to be honest, I thought you were against learning once school was over and done with!”
Bono laughed. “Well,” he replied, “I decided I'd give it a try. You know me,“ he added shyly, “always prepared to give anything a go.” She smiled and brushed her hair behind her ears.
“Is that right?” she replied, with a glint in her eye.
He chuckled. They continued to smile at each other for a moment until Ali suddenly grabbed Bono's hand.
“Paul, what did you do to your face?” she enquired.
Bono’s hand automatically went to his cheek but he dismissed her concern with a flick of his head.
“Oh, it's nothing,” he said dismissively.
He noticed that the expression on Ali's face had now changed and she was frowning. “Looks like a slap to me, Paul,” she replied shortly.
Bono eyed her for a moment and then, before he could stop himself, he burst out laughing.
Ali's face hardened. She glared at Bono, now with her arms crossed.
“What's so funny?” She snapped.
Bono stopped laughing when he saw her expression. He reached out to take her hand but she pulled away from his grasp. Now it was Bono's turn to frown.
“Look Ali,” he told her crossly. “I wasn't slapped by some girl, all right? I'm not seeing anyone, I swear.”
She looked him up and down. “So, who slapped you then?” she replied, still not believing him.
Bono looked down at the ground. “No one slapped me,” he answered without meeting her eyes. “I guess, erm,” he stammered, thinking fast, “I guess I washed my face in really hot water this morning!” He even groaned to himself as Ali fixed him with an incredulous glare.
“Is that the best you can do Paul?” she asked him coldly. This time, he remained silent. Ali had had enough. With a mumble of “lying bastard,” she turned on her heel. Before she could storm off, Bono grabbed her arm.
“Please Ali,” he pleaded, staring her right in the eyes, “don't be like this. I'm not with any women at the moment and that's God's honest truth.”
Ali stood quietly for a moment and then repeated softly, “Then tell me who hit you.”
Bono released her arm and stared down at the ground. “I had a row with my Da ok?” He glared at Ali. He hadn't wanted to talk about this.
Ali sighed. “Not again?” she replied.
Bono nodded. His temper was growing. “Are you happy now then? NOW that you believe me?”
Ali knew she had pushed him too far. She opened her mouth to apologise but he waved his hand.
“Don't worry,” he told her. “I have to get back now anyway, he's waiting for me.” He took her hand again and gently squeezed it.
“Ali,” he said, his tone pleading, “if you see Dave, don't mention any of this to him will you? About my Da? And he doesn't know about me enrolling here either..”
The dark haired girl frowned again. She nodded and then said, “Too many secrets for you to bare Paul.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “If you want to talk about anything, you know where I am”.
“Thanks,” he said and smiled gratefully at her. “I've got to go now. I'll call you Ali. Really soon.” He then stepped closer to her, leaned and in and kissed her on her cheek. “Take care,” he whispered in her ear.
He turned and rushed away from her without looking back. She watched him go with a feeling of both excitement – and foreboding.
TBC
Not real, complete fiction, set in Baby U2 days. We do not own Bono
or anyone else for that matter! Enjoy!
~*~
Chapter 2
Bob rapped harshly on his son’s bedroom door.
“PAUL,” he shouted. “Get up or you'll be late!”
Bono woke up with a jump. He had only been asleep a couple of hours. He rubbed his eyes and blinked.
“What’s that?” he called out sleepily. “That you Da?”
“Yes, I want you up boy. Get yourself washed, dressed and downstairs in thirty minutes, you hear me?”
Bono groaned.
“Why?” he called out, still half asleep.
“Its simple Paul,” Bob replied loudly as he walked back down the stairs. “I don’t trust you enough to go to college on your own, so I am going to drive you there myself. Now get up, or do I have to drag you?”
Bono's heart sank. He was beaten, he knew that. He had to go to college – he had no choice. Sighing loudly, he forced himself to get up and out of bed. He wandered into the bathroom to have a quick shower and shave. Stooped over the sink, he splashed some water into his face. He glared at his reflection in the mirror, taking in his dishevelled appearance. His unruly black hair was all over the place, he knew his Dad would accuse him of looking like he had 'gone through a bush backwards.' He frowned as he saw how red his cheek still was after his run in with his father the night before. He'd have a nasty bruise there soon enough, he realised. He tenderly ran a finger over the sore area, wincing at the touch.
“That's just great,” he mumbled. He'd have a hard time explaining this away to the guys. He hated it when they poked their noses in.
He did his best to make himself look presentable, even choosing a pair of his best trousers to wear, along with a smart shirt. With a feeling of dread, he walked slowly down the stairs and reached the hallway, where his father was waiting for him. Bono glanced at his father, a sulky look on his face.
Bob took in his son's appearance and gave him a curt nod.
“You'll do, Paul,” he told him. “Well, hurry yourself up now, it won't look good to be late will it?”
Bono didn't reply, he merely shrugged.
Bob's face hardened. “And you can take that look of your face, boy,” he scolded. “This is your own fault, last night you proved that I can't trust you.”
Bono looked at his feet.
“You can, Da,” he said in a small voice. “Please don’t drive me to college like some little kid. I will go today, I promise.” He looked up at his father with pleading eyes.
Bob regarded his son for a moment and then turned away with a quick shake of his head.
“I'm sorry Paul, you brought this on yourself.” Bob moved to the front door and opened it. “Your little outburst last night was hardly grown up, was it?”
Bono tried again.
“I really am sorry, Da, I know I was out of order,” he said apologetically. “But you never listen when I try to talk about Mam.” Bob glanced at his son quickly then looked away again. Bono felt himself lose patience immediately. “Hell, it is like you couldn’t care less what I feel or think!” The frustration was too much for him and with his anger, he punched the wall beside him.
Bob's eyes widened for a moment and then in two seconds, he had regained his composure. He simply stared at Bono, there was no emotion in his eyes.
“I am not having this conversation with you again Paul,” he said, matter of factly. “There isn't the time. We have to leave now.” He moved away from the door and gestured for Bono to walk through.
Bono stood there for a moment, looking like he was about to argue for Ireland when he realised it was useless. Snatching his jacket from where he had tossed it aside lazily night before, he stormed past his father and left the house. He marched to the car, flung open the door and threw himself into the passenger seat. He sat there staring ahead frostily, his arms crossed. He didn't look at his father as Bob got into the car beside him.
Bob eyed him for a moment. “That's right Paul, keep on proving to me what an adult you are,” he goaded him, a half smile on his lips.
Bono scowled at his Dad, his sulky temper getting the better of him once again.
“Why don’t you...” he began then stopped abruptly when his dad turned to face him with a face like thunder.
“Very wise for you to stop talking for once,” Bob said quietly. “I tell you what boy, after we get home, you will go straight to your room and will stay there until I say otherwise. Do you understand?”
Bono stared at his father in dismay. “Da, you can't ground me!” He snapped.
“Watch me.” Bob replied coldly.
“But Da,” Bono said in desperation, “the lads and I, we've got a rehearsal tonight. We have to practice all the time, please.”
“That's very hard luck Paul. Perhaps you will think about that before you cheek me again. I've had enough of your attitude recently. That band of yours can cope without their star singer until he has gotten over himself.” And with that, Bob started the car.
Bono studied his hands which he had resting in his lap. His quick brain was already starting to form a plan. He would not miss one single rehearsal, and that was that.
However, he looked up at his father and replied politely, “OK Da, I'm sorry.”
Bob nodded, pulled out of the driveway and set off. Bono sat in silence for the entire journey. Outside he seemed perfectly calm, inside he was fuming.
~*~
Bob pulled up outside the college and glanced across at Bono, who was still sat staring straight ahead, his hands in his lap. He had a dejected look in his face as he eyed the college building with distaste.
“Off you go then, boy,” his dad told him. “I’ll wait here for you.”
Bono didn't reply. He silently opened his car door and got out. He slammed the door behind him, earning him a murderous look from his dad. Bono didn't react, he merely eyed his father for a moment and then strolled into the college, with the air of total unconcern.
Bono walked into the main hall of the college and looked around at the many people around him. He looked around with little interest. It just looked like school to him and that was the last place he wanted to be. He thought of Dave, Larry and Adam, he thought of his band. He felt that this whole day was a complete waste of time. Not only was he at college but he was being made to do a tedious business course which was going to bore him to tears. He mumbled under his breath about the injustice of it all and then saw a queue just ahead of him. With a sigh, he joined the back of it and waited, his hands stuck in his pockets.
'For you, mam,' he thought to himself.
As he continued to wait in line, he was losing patience rapidly. He had always hated standing around for a long time and this all felt wrong to him. By the time he reached the top of the queue, he had lost all interest. All he wanted was to get this silly business over and done with as quickly as possible.
He leant against the desk in front of him and slowly raised his eyes to look at the lady behind it. His eyebrow raised as he took in the pretty little blond sat in front of him. His face immediately broke into a warm smile.
“Hello there,” the young lady said and smiled back at him. “Could I take your name please?”
His smile widened. “You sure can,” replied. “Paul Hewson.” He leant closer. “And what's yours?”
She coughed. “Very good, Paul.” With a grin, she ticked her sheet. “And what course are you interested in?”
Bono looked at her, now thinking it over. He knew this was where he was supposed to answer with the business course he had discussed with his father. He took himself by surprise when he replied with “History of art please, mam.”
The lady nodded and handed him a form.
“Of course.” She seemed quite mesmerised by the young man's eyes. “Can you fill this in and give it back to me please?”
He picked up a pen from the desk and leaned in, saying, “Could I borrow this for a moment?” She chuckled and inclined her head. He then took the paper she offered to him and moved away from the desk. He went outside so he could smoke a ciggie as he filled out the form.
He sat himself down on a bench and quickly glanced over the paper. He frowned as he read it. Now he remembered why he was supposed to take business. Irish. He needed an Irish pass and he had completely flunked it. He chewed the end of the pen for a moment and then shrugged and wrote down a grade B. Who would bother looking into his grades, he decided? No one would care less. The way he saw it, if he had to be at this stupid place, he may as well study something that appealed to him. He made up his mind his father would prefer that too.
He finished the form and sat back enjoying the sun on his face. He finished his cigarette and then walked back into the hall. He rejoined the queue, which he was delighted to find was now a lot shorter.
As he arrived at the desk again, he flashed the same cheeky smile at the desk clerk, who melted immediately.
“OK, Paul”. She read the paper and then peered at him again. “You are a bright lad, well done on the results.”
Bono flashed his most charming smile at her. “Thanks,” he said. He leant against her desk, one hand propped under his chin, watching her closely as she continued to scan his form.
The lady smiled back it him, somewhat shyly, her attention now half on his paper and half on him. She giggled under her breath and then quickly returned her full attention to her task.
“Well Paul,” she finally announced, “this all looks fine. We'll see you here next Monday at ten for your first lecture.”
Bono beamed at her and then leant further across her desk and took her hand. Gently he smiled into her eyes and kissed her softly. “That's just grand,” he told her with a sexy smile. He then turned and swaggered back down the corridor, the desk girl gazing longingly after him.
~*~
As Bono swaggered back down the hall towards the exit, he bumped into someone. “Sorry,” he mumbled without looking up. He stopped when he heard a gentle voice say “Bono?”
He looked around at the girl and his face broke into a smile when he saw Ali Stewart watching him.
“Ali,” he said, pleased to see her. “What are you doing here?”
Ali was a pretty girl who was in Dave’s class at Mount Temple. She and Paul had been getting close for a while and he had been trying to pluck up the courage all summer to ask her out on a date.
Ali grinned at him. “I'm here to enrol in a Child Development class. I wasn't expecting to see you here to be honest, I thought you were against learning once school was over and done with!”
Bono laughed. “Well,” he replied, “I decided I'd give it a try. You know me,“ he added shyly, “always prepared to give anything a go.” She smiled and brushed her hair behind her ears.
“Is that right?” she replied, with a glint in her eye.
He chuckled. They continued to smile at each other for a moment until Ali suddenly grabbed Bono's hand.
“Paul, what did you do to your face?” she enquired.
Bono’s hand automatically went to his cheek but he dismissed her concern with a flick of his head.
“Oh, it's nothing,” he said dismissively.
He noticed that the expression on Ali's face had now changed and she was frowning. “Looks like a slap to me, Paul,” she replied shortly.
Bono eyed her for a moment and then, before he could stop himself, he burst out laughing.
Ali's face hardened. She glared at Bono, now with her arms crossed.
“What's so funny?” She snapped.
Bono stopped laughing when he saw her expression. He reached out to take her hand but she pulled away from his grasp. Now it was Bono's turn to frown.
“Look Ali,” he told her crossly. “I wasn't slapped by some girl, all right? I'm not seeing anyone, I swear.”
She looked him up and down. “So, who slapped you then?” she replied, still not believing him.
Bono looked down at the ground. “No one slapped me,” he answered without meeting her eyes. “I guess, erm,” he stammered, thinking fast, “I guess I washed my face in really hot water this morning!” He even groaned to himself as Ali fixed him with an incredulous glare.
“Is that the best you can do Paul?” she asked him coldly. This time, he remained silent. Ali had had enough. With a mumble of “lying bastard,” she turned on her heel. Before she could storm off, Bono grabbed her arm.
“Please Ali,” he pleaded, staring her right in the eyes, “don't be like this. I'm not with any women at the moment and that's God's honest truth.”
Ali stood quietly for a moment and then repeated softly, “Then tell me who hit you.”
Bono released her arm and stared down at the ground. “I had a row with my Da ok?” He glared at Ali. He hadn't wanted to talk about this.
Ali sighed. “Not again?” she replied.
Bono nodded. His temper was growing. “Are you happy now then? NOW that you believe me?”
Ali knew she had pushed him too far. She opened her mouth to apologise but he waved his hand.
“Don't worry,” he told her. “I have to get back now anyway, he's waiting for me.” He took her hand again and gently squeezed it.
“Ali,” he said, his tone pleading, “if you see Dave, don't mention any of this to him will you? About my Da? And he doesn't know about me enrolling here either..”
The dark haired girl frowned again. She nodded and then said, “Too many secrets for you to bare Paul.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “If you want to talk about anything, you know where I am”.
“Thanks,” he said and smiled gratefully at her. “I've got to go now. I'll call you Ali. Really soon.” He then stepped closer to her, leaned and in and kissed her on her cheek. “Take care,” he whispered in her ear.
He turned and rushed away from her without looking back. She watched him go with a feeling of both excitement – and foreboding.
TBC
