susannag75
The Fly
Hello! It's the first time I post something in here... Well this story is something I've been thinking about while watching + listening to the UK part of the Elevation tour. It's based on how I perceived feelings in the concerts. It's the first time that I make anyone read what I've witten, and English is not my mother tongue, so many style errors are surely present. Please be kind about that...
Above all, I would like to know if you are interested in reading what's next... otherwise I'll try to write something more interesting than this!
Waiting for your comments, here's the first part of
TOO MUCH ALIKE HIM
“Hey don’t you think you should get a proper job?”. These words were repeated from a familiar voice, and he heard them in echoes in his mind.
He was feeling something heavy pushing on his chest, harder and harder, and his breath falling away. He could not move, and his father was standing in front of him. Suddenly someone started to shake him, calling him in a low voice, which seemed so far away.
He finally managed to open his eyes, and realized it was just a nightmare. Edge had his hands on Bono's shoulder and was trying to wake him up. He felt a sharp pain in his head, and most of his body aching deeply, but he did not give much importance to it. It was no big deal, maybe he had drunk too much... He looked around, still caught in the impressions of the bad dream and looking quite confused.
He realized to be lying on a couch in a hotel room. "What... Where am I?" he asked, to himself more than to his friend, who had got up and stepped back a little as Bono tried to sit himself up. He could not think properly.
The room seemed to be spinning around him and he felt his brain to be completely disconnected. Edge sat next to him. "We came here in my room right after the show to drink something, it was just a couple of hours ago. Maybe you had too much of that vodka, hadn't you? However, you have been sleeping just a bunch of minutes... Larry and Adam went off to their rooms in search of some more alcohol as you cleared my bar."
Something flashed back into Bono's mind as he jumped up from the couch and he shouted, "God, it's so late! I... I have to get back to Dublin, and I have to get to that fucked airport before they close up for the night... damn Edge why didn't you tell me it was so fucking late?" His vision suddenly blurred. He tried to move, but all went black and he felt nothing for a few seconds, until Edge caught him in his arms and held him tightly. “Just sit down and collect your thoughts..." Edge tried to find the right words "No need to head for Dublin tonight, mate..." or any other night now on, he thought to himself... damn, not that easy finding the right words. He did not have the heart to say anything else, afraid of having not been enough sensitive, and lowered his sight not to look at Bono. He had been confused in this moment, but he had probably forgotten what happened for a while, and Edge knew that once back to consciousness, he would have seen grief darkening the singer’s blue eyes again.
Edge helped him to sit again and his friend's eyes filled with tears as he slowly recalled broken images of the day gone by. The plane the night before, the hospital, the confusion in the early morning at his father's death bed, the shock at how fast it happened, the countless phone calls, the effort to have to repeat what happened to anyone, the plane to London with Ali on his side, the grief on his mates' faces, the show where he had cried his pain out loud trying to heal his hurting heart burying it under a flood of emotions, and the room where he tried to drown it in a sea of alcohol.
He managed somehow to fight tears back before raising his face towards Edge. He was astonished at how fast the soothing effects of alcohol had dissolved in this situation and how strongly the pain had returned. He knew that he did not want to speak about it now. He did not want to be questioned. But he needed his friends around him more than anything else. He did not want to be alone, as to be alone would have led to thinking or sleeping, both things he was afraid of in this situation.
Thinking about him... dreaming about him... no, he knew it all too well. He wouldn't fall into it this time. He wouldn't be messed up again. He could not let himself go. Still shows to come. Still he had to sing. He had managed quite well on that night, maybe better than the days before, however better than he had thought. Ok, some tears had escaped, but his voice had cracked only a few times and probably nobody cared about that. He felt better during the show than now; adrenaline helped a lot... he even talked more easily about his dad... although he was not able to say "he died" and used some periphrases to let the public know. He was able to go on. He heard a voice inside... So alike him... Too much alike.
"Bono, are you ok?" Edge could not wait anymore for him to talk or move. "Just tired. When is this additional alcohol going to get here? Maybe they got it for themselves..." he answered, trying to sound relieved, with no success at all.
"You should get some sleep. You don't seem on top form." "I'm fine, right? Just... well... a bit out because of the nightm... oh, well, because you awoke me so abruptly." "If I did not wake you up, you would have awakened the whole hotel. You were screaming, and so loud! Come on, what's the use of all of that comedy with me? Try to get some sleep, and a sandwich. You’ve been on a very busy schedule, and it’s been a lot of time since I saw you having a proper meal." Bono tried to avoid meeting his gaze. If only it all came as easy as he said... you do not know how bad I would feel being alone struggling to count the spots in the ceiling to get to sleep just to wake up an hour later scared to death by some nightmare.
Larry and Adam came in with some bottles and put them on the table. Bono took a bottle of vodka in his hands. Larry stared at him, and Bono felt he was doing something rather stupid, but nobody said anything, and he poured down some of that directly into his throat. Well tell me something, you all. Stop me from being a prank. Help me in some way. I wish I were able to ask. But I am so much... alike him... damn it.
He had drunk a good deal, with his eyes closed, and still he could feel. The clumsiness he usually felt after a few drinks did not want to appear. Suddenly someone took the bottle out of his hands without speaking a word. He opened his eyes and saw Larry drinking some. "Well, not all for you I guess. You had enough for tonight." He knew Bono well enough to understand that he would not have listened to any other reason to stop drinking at the moment. And Bono knew him well enough to see that he did not approve his conduct now, and he could not stand to disappoint Larry.
He stood up silent for a while and then said, looking very shattered and talked in a low and sad voice, like he had been lately talking on stage "Thank… thank you for being so supportive tonight. It would have been difficult without you. Don't worry, I'll be ok tomorrow. Now it's better I go and see my wife... she's going home very early in the morning." Edge opened the door and walked with him through the corridor to his room, trying to avoid him falling into anything. "Thanks for holding me tonight on stage. You're an amazing friend. Sorry for having been a pester." Bono said, hugging him. "We should all be used to you by now. No problem. You know where you can find me, anytime." Edge answered, and went back to his place. Larry watched them standing at the door. "Why would he want to drown in it alone... I can't let him." he said in a low voice. "We all cannot of course. He's damn tired, though. Not helping, I guess." Adam added. "You know him... we have to take care of that man now. It's like when he was climbing lighting equipments... I only hope he will let us catch him when he falls.” Edge said closing the door.
Ali went home early in the morning and Bono got up as soon as she left. He had not slept at all, and he had an argument with his wife about the need for him to still get back to Dublin after the shows to take care of her and the children in this situation, and to help Norman with the things to do. "Are you mad or what? No, Bono, listen, no way. You can barely stand." "But..." "No, love, nothing you can say will make me change my mind. You'll be home in two days, indeed, and it's ok. Norman can do what is needed and I'll help. And when you'll be in Glasgow it is better you stay there. It is eating you out all this frantic getting around. I'll take care of the children."
Yes of course, he thought, she always does. Well, I liked to go home in the night and spend some time with him... no words spoken, of course, but it was quite comforting all the same. Even though I would have preferred to hear some words for me when he died. Well, let it go.
His head was hurting but he was still able to feel full of energy. He had felt like this since he had taken the decision to go home after every show to stay with Bob. He could not understand why the others were so worried about him to be tired. He did not even notice the bags under his eyes. He had such an energy he had not felt for years. Let the others think what they want. I'm ok and I am not going to cancel any of the shows.
He put the kettle on and made some coffee while watching TV. All of the morning programs had a piece of news about their show the night before and of course it talked about him and his dad. This made him quite uncomfortable, so he dressed up and went out. London was still sleeping. Shops still closed, only a few people around. He felt quite safe hiding behind the darkest pair of glasses he had, and he stopped in a cafe. People around him helped to keep his mind busy. He did not have to break up. He was strong enough. Again, the voice inside: "Too much alike him".
Studying everyone entering the place, he listened to conversations, wondered about any of the stories he overheard, imagined a happy ending for anyone, hoped for any person who sat alone to see a boyfriend, a girlfriend, a relative, enter the door. Two hours passed, and he realized he was late. It had started to rain heavily - good old London… even in summer one should take his umbrella - and when he got to the hotel he was soaked, and was looking even worse than when he got up in the morning. "Good Lord, Bono, where have you been? I have been trying to call you but you left your phone in your room and nobody here knew where you went! Can't you see it's raining? Look at you!" Larry was shouting and the other two had worry written over their faces. Bono wanted to sound as normal as possible "Just had a walk... could not sleep... getting bored... sorry. I should have told you. Come on, let's go and have those rehearsals. I've got something on my mind about tonight." Bono talked to them without taking his sunglasses off. Larry was getting worried. He knew Bono very well, he was not taking this all as he should. He would have so much preferred him to be mad at them and call all the shows off. Dealing with that in public all nights - gonna killing him, he thought.
The rehearsals went quite well, although all of them were very nervous. Electricity seemed to run on stage, and as Larry found Edge being too slow at some points, he stopped playing and threw a stick at him. Spirits got high and Edge, not much diplomatic that day, started a fight. Adam shook his head in disapproval, while Bono looked at them holding firm at the mic stand, strangely quiet, without a word to pacify the quarrel. Things like that were quite usual in the band - little fights always forgotten in a half an hour - but this fight put Bono in a strange state of anxiety. He was soon shaking with fear - of what, he did not know-, and strengthening the grip on the mic stand. Other shouts mixed with the actual ones he was hearing. "Well young boy, what's this attitude of yours here? Don't think that I will let it go like this now. Coming home at this time? You're just 14!" he heard words spoken in his head. " "Fuck off" "Boy you are going to get punished, be warned! No one of your aunts will be able to stop me this time!" God, he thought, he always made his dad mad at him. But also, his dad made him always turn mad. What if he had been quieter? Maybe a better relationship might have developed? When the anger and the sorrow mixed up with this newly arisen fear, he just could not help throwing the mic stand own off the stage. The noise was notable and they all stopped and looked at him, still shaking, tears running down his cheeks, hands held tight in fists. As they rushed near him, he turned his back, leaning his hands and head on a wall and taking deep breaths. Edge put his hands on Bono's shoulders. "Are you ok? I'm sorry. I did not mean to upset you. We did not mean to. Already forgotten what I was fighting for. Right, Lar?" "Of course. I... We... were just nervous, Bono. Seeing you like this, so sad... I'm sorry, Edge. Sorry mates." "Are you sure you can make it tonight, Bono? I think I am summing up everybody's thoughts telling that you seem quite tired." Adam said, cautiously. "Cancel was something we considered, you know that. People would understand..."
"N-O. Fine enough to go on for me. Already spoken about this." Bono interrupted, talking in his teeth.
"Then it may be good that you take the afternoon off. You seem quite upset now and we can do without you with the sound check… or we should call it the circus, with these two around…" Adam added, giving a very bad look to Edge and Larry.
Bono turned, taking his glasses off and facing them for the first time during the day, showing his red, swollen eyes, shouting out grief, full of tears. There was no sign of anger on his face now, just sorrow. "I- I do not want to rest." A long pause followed, while he tried to stop tears. "I want to keep my mind busy and I want to sing at the best tonight. I have to be jumping and screaming up there in a bunch of hours, damn it. Do you understand that I need not to think to keep it going? And besides this, I don't want to think about it. I know what it is like, already been there, not wanting to go back, thanks. So please let's go on, don't make me beg you." and don’t let me break up now, he added to himself.
Larry understood in full. He could feel every word spoken by Bono on his own skin making him shiver. He was trying to escape from pain. Why does he do it, he thought, he knows it does not work. He himself told me it did not work. But, I have to help him. Now he needs me. He went next to Bono and hugged him and then turned to the others and ordered anyone to be back to his own place. Edge and Adam were not convinced at all by Bono's statement, but Larry gave them a knowing look and they just complied.
On that night, Bono gave again all of himself on stage, and later drank himself to a short and unhealthy sleep in the night, ignoring his friends' knockings on his door.
“Oh come on, let us in, B.” Edge was whispering at the door. “Good Lord. If he does anything silly…” “I’m going to kill him when he comes out of that room. Actually, he must take care of himself. I can’t stand it when he’s so risk lover.” Adam added.
“It’s not about his risky attitude this time. It’s not even about him actually. If you think it is that easy to keep track of what to do in such a situation… I don’t know how he can perform like he does actually. I don’t think you should take it like he is doing some sort of a tort to you.” Larry said, his eyes darkened. “You know he won’t do anything silly. He will just drink and he will be sick. It’s ok to keep your mind busy for some time. But then he will need us.” “You’re right. I think Adam and I are only too much concerned.” Edge said. “Yes I know. Just wanted to point that out, mate.” And Larry walked away to his room, praying in his heart that he had not misunderstood any sign Bono might have given of being out of his mind – but he felt he could well understand him. He hoped that Bono would call him, and cry and open his heart with him once for all.
Above all, I would like to know if you are interested in reading what's next... otherwise I'll try to write something more interesting than this!
Waiting for your comments, here's the first part of
TOO MUCH ALIKE HIM
“Hey don’t you think you should get a proper job?”. These words were repeated from a familiar voice, and he heard them in echoes in his mind.
He was feeling something heavy pushing on his chest, harder and harder, and his breath falling away. He could not move, and his father was standing in front of him. Suddenly someone started to shake him, calling him in a low voice, which seemed so far away.
He finally managed to open his eyes, and realized it was just a nightmare. Edge had his hands on Bono's shoulder and was trying to wake him up. He felt a sharp pain in his head, and most of his body aching deeply, but he did not give much importance to it. It was no big deal, maybe he had drunk too much... He looked around, still caught in the impressions of the bad dream and looking quite confused.
He realized to be lying on a couch in a hotel room. "What... Where am I?" he asked, to himself more than to his friend, who had got up and stepped back a little as Bono tried to sit himself up. He could not think properly.
The room seemed to be spinning around him and he felt his brain to be completely disconnected. Edge sat next to him. "We came here in my room right after the show to drink something, it was just a couple of hours ago. Maybe you had too much of that vodka, hadn't you? However, you have been sleeping just a bunch of minutes... Larry and Adam went off to their rooms in search of some more alcohol as you cleared my bar."
Something flashed back into Bono's mind as he jumped up from the couch and he shouted, "God, it's so late! I... I have to get back to Dublin, and I have to get to that fucked airport before they close up for the night... damn Edge why didn't you tell me it was so fucking late?" His vision suddenly blurred. He tried to move, but all went black and he felt nothing for a few seconds, until Edge caught him in his arms and held him tightly. “Just sit down and collect your thoughts..." Edge tried to find the right words "No need to head for Dublin tonight, mate..." or any other night now on, he thought to himself... damn, not that easy finding the right words. He did not have the heart to say anything else, afraid of having not been enough sensitive, and lowered his sight not to look at Bono. He had been confused in this moment, but he had probably forgotten what happened for a while, and Edge knew that once back to consciousness, he would have seen grief darkening the singer’s blue eyes again.
Edge helped him to sit again and his friend's eyes filled with tears as he slowly recalled broken images of the day gone by. The plane the night before, the hospital, the confusion in the early morning at his father's death bed, the shock at how fast it happened, the countless phone calls, the effort to have to repeat what happened to anyone, the plane to London with Ali on his side, the grief on his mates' faces, the show where he had cried his pain out loud trying to heal his hurting heart burying it under a flood of emotions, and the room where he tried to drown it in a sea of alcohol.
He managed somehow to fight tears back before raising his face towards Edge. He was astonished at how fast the soothing effects of alcohol had dissolved in this situation and how strongly the pain had returned. He knew that he did not want to speak about it now. He did not want to be questioned. But he needed his friends around him more than anything else. He did not want to be alone, as to be alone would have led to thinking or sleeping, both things he was afraid of in this situation.
Thinking about him... dreaming about him... no, he knew it all too well. He wouldn't fall into it this time. He wouldn't be messed up again. He could not let himself go. Still shows to come. Still he had to sing. He had managed quite well on that night, maybe better than the days before, however better than he had thought. Ok, some tears had escaped, but his voice had cracked only a few times and probably nobody cared about that. He felt better during the show than now; adrenaline helped a lot... he even talked more easily about his dad... although he was not able to say "he died" and used some periphrases to let the public know. He was able to go on. He heard a voice inside... So alike him... Too much alike.
"Bono, are you ok?" Edge could not wait anymore for him to talk or move. "Just tired. When is this additional alcohol going to get here? Maybe they got it for themselves..." he answered, trying to sound relieved, with no success at all.
"You should get some sleep. You don't seem on top form." "I'm fine, right? Just... well... a bit out because of the nightm... oh, well, because you awoke me so abruptly." "If I did not wake you up, you would have awakened the whole hotel. You were screaming, and so loud! Come on, what's the use of all of that comedy with me? Try to get some sleep, and a sandwich. You’ve been on a very busy schedule, and it’s been a lot of time since I saw you having a proper meal." Bono tried to avoid meeting his gaze. If only it all came as easy as he said... you do not know how bad I would feel being alone struggling to count the spots in the ceiling to get to sleep just to wake up an hour later scared to death by some nightmare.
Larry and Adam came in with some bottles and put them on the table. Bono took a bottle of vodka in his hands. Larry stared at him, and Bono felt he was doing something rather stupid, but nobody said anything, and he poured down some of that directly into his throat. Well tell me something, you all. Stop me from being a prank. Help me in some way. I wish I were able to ask. But I am so much... alike him... damn it.
He had drunk a good deal, with his eyes closed, and still he could feel. The clumsiness he usually felt after a few drinks did not want to appear. Suddenly someone took the bottle out of his hands without speaking a word. He opened his eyes and saw Larry drinking some. "Well, not all for you I guess. You had enough for tonight." He knew Bono well enough to understand that he would not have listened to any other reason to stop drinking at the moment. And Bono knew him well enough to see that he did not approve his conduct now, and he could not stand to disappoint Larry.
He stood up silent for a while and then said, looking very shattered and talked in a low and sad voice, like he had been lately talking on stage "Thank… thank you for being so supportive tonight. It would have been difficult without you. Don't worry, I'll be ok tomorrow. Now it's better I go and see my wife... she's going home very early in the morning." Edge opened the door and walked with him through the corridor to his room, trying to avoid him falling into anything. "Thanks for holding me tonight on stage. You're an amazing friend. Sorry for having been a pester." Bono said, hugging him. "We should all be used to you by now. No problem. You know where you can find me, anytime." Edge answered, and went back to his place. Larry watched them standing at the door. "Why would he want to drown in it alone... I can't let him." he said in a low voice. "We all cannot of course. He's damn tired, though. Not helping, I guess." Adam added. "You know him... we have to take care of that man now. It's like when he was climbing lighting equipments... I only hope he will let us catch him when he falls.” Edge said closing the door.
Ali went home early in the morning and Bono got up as soon as she left. He had not slept at all, and he had an argument with his wife about the need for him to still get back to Dublin after the shows to take care of her and the children in this situation, and to help Norman with the things to do. "Are you mad or what? No, Bono, listen, no way. You can barely stand." "But..." "No, love, nothing you can say will make me change my mind. You'll be home in two days, indeed, and it's ok. Norman can do what is needed and I'll help. And when you'll be in Glasgow it is better you stay there. It is eating you out all this frantic getting around. I'll take care of the children."
Yes of course, he thought, she always does. Well, I liked to go home in the night and spend some time with him... no words spoken, of course, but it was quite comforting all the same. Even though I would have preferred to hear some words for me when he died. Well, let it go.
His head was hurting but he was still able to feel full of energy. He had felt like this since he had taken the decision to go home after every show to stay with Bob. He could not understand why the others were so worried about him to be tired. He did not even notice the bags under his eyes. He had such an energy he had not felt for years. Let the others think what they want. I'm ok and I am not going to cancel any of the shows.
He put the kettle on and made some coffee while watching TV. All of the morning programs had a piece of news about their show the night before and of course it talked about him and his dad. This made him quite uncomfortable, so he dressed up and went out. London was still sleeping. Shops still closed, only a few people around. He felt quite safe hiding behind the darkest pair of glasses he had, and he stopped in a cafe. People around him helped to keep his mind busy. He did not have to break up. He was strong enough. Again, the voice inside: "Too much alike him".
Studying everyone entering the place, he listened to conversations, wondered about any of the stories he overheard, imagined a happy ending for anyone, hoped for any person who sat alone to see a boyfriend, a girlfriend, a relative, enter the door. Two hours passed, and he realized he was late. It had started to rain heavily - good old London… even in summer one should take his umbrella - and when he got to the hotel he was soaked, and was looking even worse than when he got up in the morning. "Good Lord, Bono, where have you been? I have been trying to call you but you left your phone in your room and nobody here knew where you went! Can't you see it's raining? Look at you!" Larry was shouting and the other two had worry written over their faces. Bono wanted to sound as normal as possible "Just had a walk... could not sleep... getting bored... sorry. I should have told you. Come on, let's go and have those rehearsals. I've got something on my mind about tonight." Bono talked to them without taking his sunglasses off. Larry was getting worried. He knew Bono very well, he was not taking this all as he should. He would have so much preferred him to be mad at them and call all the shows off. Dealing with that in public all nights - gonna killing him, he thought.
The rehearsals went quite well, although all of them were very nervous. Electricity seemed to run on stage, and as Larry found Edge being too slow at some points, he stopped playing and threw a stick at him. Spirits got high and Edge, not much diplomatic that day, started a fight. Adam shook his head in disapproval, while Bono looked at them holding firm at the mic stand, strangely quiet, without a word to pacify the quarrel. Things like that were quite usual in the band - little fights always forgotten in a half an hour - but this fight put Bono in a strange state of anxiety. He was soon shaking with fear - of what, he did not know-, and strengthening the grip on the mic stand. Other shouts mixed with the actual ones he was hearing. "Well young boy, what's this attitude of yours here? Don't think that I will let it go like this now. Coming home at this time? You're just 14!" he heard words spoken in his head. " "Fuck off" "Boy you are going to get punished, be warned! No one of your aunts will be able to stop me this time!" God, he thought, he always made his dad mad at him. But also, his dad made him always turn mad. What if he had been quieter? Maybe a better relationship might have developed? When the anger and the sorrow mixed up with this newly arisen fear, he just could not help throwing the mic stand own off the stage. The noise was notable and they all stopped and looked at him, still shaking, tears running down his cheeks, hands held tight in fists. As they rushed near him, he turned his back, leaning his hands and head on a wall and taking deep breaths. Edge put his hands on Bono's shoulders. "Are you ok? I'm sorry. I did not mean to upset you. We did not mean to. Already forgotten what I was fighting for. Right, Lar?" "Of course. I... We... were just nervous, Bono. Seeing you like this, so sad... I'm sorry, Edge. Sorry mates." "Are you sure you can make it tonight, Bono? I think I am summing up everybody's thoughts telling that you seem quite tired." Adam said, cautiously. "Cancel was something we considered, you know that. People would understand..."
"N-O. Fine enough to go on for me. Already spoken about this." Bono interrupted, talking in his teeth.
"Then it may be good that you take the afternoon off. You seem quite upset now and we can do without you with the sound check… or we should call it the circus, with these two around…" Adam added, giving a very bad look to Edge and Larry.
Bono turned, taking his glasses off and facing them for the first time during the day, showing his red, swollen eyes, shouting out grief, full of tears. There was no sign of anger on his face now, just sorrow. "I- I do not want to rest." A long pause followed, while he tried to stop tears. "I want to keep my mind busy and I want to sing at the best tonight. I have to be jumping and screaming up there in a bunch of hours, damn it. Do you understand that I need not to think to keep it going? And besides this, I don't want to think about it. I know what it is like, already been there, not wanting to go back, thanks. So please let's go on, don't make me beg you." and don’t let me break up now, he added to himself.
Larry understood in full. He could feel every word spoken by Bono on his own skin making him shiver. He was trying to escape from pain. Why does he do it, he thought, he knows it does not work. He himself told me it did not work. But, I have to help him. Now he needs me. He went next to Bono and hugged him and then turned to the others and ordered anyone to be back to his own place. Edge and Adam were not convinced at all by Bono's statement, but Larry gave them a knowing look and they just complied.
On that night, Bono gave again all of himself on stage, and later drank himself to a short and unhealthy sleep in the night, ignoring his friends' knockings on his door.
“Oh come on, let us in, B.” Edge was whispering at the door. “Good Lord. If he does anything silly…” “I’m going to kill him when he comes out of that room. Actually, he must take care of himself. I can’t stand it when he’s so risk lover.” Adam added.
“It’s not about his risky attitude this time. It’s not even about him actually. If you think it is that easy to keep track of what to do in such a situation… I don’t know how he can perform like he does actually. I don’t think you should take it like he is doing some sort of a tort to you.” Larry said, his eyes darkened. “You know he won’t do anything silly. He will just drink and he will be sick. It’s ok to keep your mind busy for some time. But then he will need us.” “You’re right. I think Adam and I are only too much concerned.” Edge said. “Yes I know. Just wanted to point that out, mate.” And Larry walked away to his room, praying in his heart that he had not misunderstood any sign Bono might have given of being out of his mind – but he felt he could well understand him. He hoped that Bono would call him, and cry and open his heart with him once for all.
