The Fly (U2 Fanfic)

Mysterious Ways

My head's throbbing against the soft pillow on which I rest my head. My stomach is twisting in these sickening knots. I'm afraid to open my eyes, praying it isn't bright outside, but something's peculiar. The sheets... they're too close to my skin. I reach my hand down, only feeling my bra and panties that I never changed after last night. Guess I was too drunk to shower or change into new clothes, but there's something else to this that I'm missing. I lay still on my side - barely breathing - and my ears fall upon the sound of heavy breathing. Against the blinding sunlight, I pry my hazel eyes open and roll around. "Oh fuck!" I yelp at the sight of Bono laying in my bed... half naked. 

His tired eyes flutter open slowly, but he springs up into a sitting position once he sees me next to him, barely dressed. Man, there's so much more hair on his chest in person. I never thought I'd sleep with a guy that hairy. "Wow, how the hell did I - we  - get here?"

"How am I supposed to know? Last night was the biggest blur of my entire life."

"Man, we must've really been trashed. I don't remember much, either."

I place my head in my palm, my fingers gripping my messy hair in dismay. I feel him get out of bed and I peek between my fingers, hoping his underwear is still off. Wait, what's my problem? "I am so sorry," I say.

His underwear was on, by the way. It's just the matter of pulling on the rest of his clothes. "June, don't worry about it. We just had a little more to drink than we should've. This'll stay between you and me, alright?"

I look up from my misery. "Okay." I push off the covers and get out of bed. "I'm gonna take a shower. Are you gonna hang out with those guys?"

He pulls his t-shirt back on. "Most likely. You can join us when you're done."

"Will do."

He shows himself out of my room, and I lock myself in the bathroom and run a hot bath in this beautiful jacuzzi tub waiting to be used. As I sink into the hot water and the bubbles, I sigh. Not because this bath feels like I sunk into heaven, but I'm such a whore. I fucked Bono. The one "wholesome" rock band, and I fuck the frontman. He's married, for Christ's sake, and I always admired the relationship Ali and him have. He has CHILDREN! 

They might not do groupies, but they do the journalists.

Ugh, what kind of repulsive slut am I? I sink down further in the tub, so only my eyes are bobbing up over the bubbles as my fingers fiddle with the jets. I wonder what else my fingers fiddled with last night. Christ, the one time in my whole life I fuck a rockstar, I can't remember it. What a bitch. No, that's good. Less memory, less guilt. Ugh, but I'll never know how good he was!

You know what, I gotta stop this. I gotta pull my head out of my ass and get back to my job. I still have two more shows with these guys, and I have to make it count if I want to be bathing in a luxurious jacuzzi tub for the rest of my life. With much gumption required, I pull myself out of the soothing tub and towel off as I pick out an outfit of a big button-down and leggings. Once that's on and my hair's pinned up sloppily on my head, I leave my room and go down the hall. As I'm about to open the door to their room, a woman walks out. Maybe a few years older than I with mocha hair cascading past her shoulders, wearing a slip dress and denim jacket. She shoots me a look, and struts down the hall. What's her damage?

I walk into their room and shut the door behind me, which is when I find the four of them all standing next to each other, eyeing me suspiciously. So much for staying between the two of us. Trying to break the tension, I joke, "Adam, that doesn't look very much like the waitress from last night."

"It's not. Her name's Violet Summer."

I nod. "Cool name."

The Edge adds, "She's a journalist for Spin magazine. You wouldn't happen to know her, would you?"

I suck in too much air and my chest gets tight. "Um, no. I'm afraid not, but Spin's a huge company."

"That's funny. She said she was supposed to tour with us for the rest of this leg. She had a badge and everything."

Okay, this is the end. I have to come clean. If I lie anymore, things are gonna get worse. Besides, this is the Edge we're talking about. I'm confident I could keep this going with Adam and Bono (Larry already knows the truth), but the Edge is a borderline genius. He won't fall for anymore bullshit I attempt to pump in his head. Speaking of which... where's his hat? Better question, where's his hair? He's only thirty. My eyes are straining more than they did when I woke up this morning. "You caught me. I'm so sorry for lying. It's just... it's complicated."

"There's a reason why she left, you know," Larry mentions.

I pause. "Really? You guys got rid of her?"

"Eh, I mean she was nice looking, but we like you better," Adam says.

"We just want to know why you lied to us," The Edge says.

"C'mon, if I told the truth you guys wouldn't have let me get this far."

They all look at each other and acknowledge this idea. Then I explain everything. How I intended to get an autograph for my friend, but I played this whole thing off because I'm broke and want to be a journalist, so why the hell not. They seemed to understand, at least I think they did. I mean, they're keeping me around. "It's a good thing we like you," Bono says.

"Oh, we all know you like her, Bono," the Edge jokes.

Bono and I grimace, and I'm about to facepalm again as I ask, "Jesus, how did you guys catch on to that?"

"We know you guys didn't go into your room to play chess," Adam answers, "But don't sweat it. These things happen. Do you know how many times I've mysteriously woke up with a woman?"

"Gee Adam, you've been keeping count?" Larry says.

There's a lull in conversation, which causes my eyes to fix more on the glow of the Edge's head. It's not totally bald, either, but it's weird. He has the oddest hairline I've ever seen in my life. My fifty-something father has a better hairline. "Edge, where's your hat?" I ask.

He sighs, truly a crisis. "I don't know. I lost it last night, but I need it before the show tonight."

"Why the Edge, this is a catastrophe. We must search this room - this entire hotel - until we find the hat," Bono says, and though it sounded like a deadpan, we all end up scouring the hotel for Edge's hat. He won't go outside the room without it, though, which leaves the three of us to outside searching. Man, what a day. I fuck Bono, the journalist shows up, and now we're scouring a luxurious hotel for Edge's beanie. We haven't even gotten to the show yet. 

Hey guys,

I wrote this one so quickly, and I'm sorry for not being smuttier. I love Bono and Ali too much to write anything dirty, so imagine what you'd like to happen that night. I appreciate you all following along, and stay tuned for another chapter.

Much love,

Gabi