At first, I thought I was just drunk. I'd wandered into the back restroom with every intention of throwing up all I'd consumed in the last several hours of celebratory debauchery and wound up stumbling into what looked like a very physical argument between my singer and bassist.
My first instinct was to grab Bono by the back of the neck and pull him off, but the way I could barely focus on my hand as I lurched forward quickly proved I was far too intoxicated to do much of any good.
I caught myself against the wall, my head leaning lazily against the glass of the mirror. Swallowing a few times, I tried to regain my bearings, my eyes focused on the pair to my left.
I saw Bono's hand roughly snaking down Adam's side and Adam's hand coming up from behind to grab harshly at dark, ruffled hair. I heard muted, slurred words that I couldn't make out along with heavy grunts and the moving of fabric.
And slowly, it began to occur to me… I'd witnessed Bono in more than a few brawls before. The boy was passionate and fierce and most of all loud - and I'd yet to hear him say anything above a whisper.
My slowly forming suspicions were verified within a moment as I saw Adam pull Bono's face closer to his, saw their lips press together, heard them both whimper as Bono's hands hit the wall behind Adam's body, pinning him there, saw Adam's hand slide down the fabric of Bono's sweat-soaked t-shirt...
I tried to make a sound, but my mouth was dry and I ended up coughing. I could feel the alcohol rising in my stomach and I sprinted for the nearest stall, catching it just in time and spilling everything inside me. My head felt like it was in some aquatic cave and I could barely make out the sounds above me, but I knew they were talking. More importantly, I knew they'd stopped. And that they knew I'd caught them.
I sat there for a few minutes, taking deep breaths and wiping off the corners of my mouth before rising and readjusting my shirt in my best attempt to look somewhat authoritative despite my inebriated state and took a shaky step out of the stall.
My eyes caught Bono's first. He was leaning against the wall now, his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw already set. I could tell he'd also had more than a few drinks and the cold look in those blue eyes told me it'd be best if I talked to him at a later time.
Adam was leaning against the washbasin, his eyes straight ahead. I could see him looking at me through his dark tinted glasses, his eyes boring into mine in the reflection of the mirror. His stare was soft, but clear and based on frequent nights out with him I could tell he wasn't drunk. Or, at least, not as much as Bono and nowhere near as far gone as me. What's more, he looked scared whereas Bono looked angry and somehow guilty. I felt as though he was silently begging me. What for, I had no idea, but I could feel it all the same. His eyes finally left mine as he lowered his head and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of pain. Over the last couple months, Adam and I had grown quite close and I had learned how to read him to a fair degree. And I knew that he could detect the dangerous line he was teetering upon as well as I could. He knew what had to be done.
My eyes caught Bono's as I heard the door close behind me and I was a bit unnerved to catch him with a grin on his face. He pushed himself up taller and gave me a slight nod with his head.
"You just earned your twenty percent, mate."