forum In Fair Verona // Modern Romeo and Juliet // Private RP - CLOSED

Started February 05, 2019 by @blue_topaz

tune

ROMEO: Because that’s your thing. You know I’ve been reading Macbeth just to try and keep up with you for our project?

JULIET: It is my thing. But I might not be allowed this year. And—actually? You've got to be kidding me

I hit send before I could grasp how honest I was being with Romeo. No. Stop it, you idiot. He doesn't deserve to know anything.
But it was true, I wasn't sure if Angelo would allow me to audition for the play this year after what he'd punished me for yesterday… And for my lack of cooperation for the whole 'Paris' situation.

ROMEO: Mafia parent problems? Say you’re forming a study group if you can’t join. And yes, Shakespeare is hard to read. Macbeth is also a douche. Thane of Glamis my ass.

JULIET: Excuse you, Macbeth is a beautiful masterpiece and so is its protagonist. And I'm already using that excuse so I can do other stuff after school.

I was careful not to specify what 'stuff' exactly, not wanting him to have another piece of information about me.

ROMEO: To quote your precious Macabeth: “Let every man be master of his time.”

JULIET: Touché. But still, why would you audition for a part in a play when you don't enjoy acting?

ROMEO: Mr. Rizzo isn’t exactly my biggest fan. I don’t want to get points of our presentation because I am “illiterate towards the arts” Which was rude and uncalled for btw.

JULIET: I mean…. it's sort of true. But I guess you're right. Also, you misspelled 'off'.

I stood to drop my empty ice cream container in the garbage, clipping my pen back to the waistline of my black jeans. Why was I even doing this? Why couldn't I just text Romeo a 'gtg' and turn off my phone?

ROMEO: They had to reinesert the bone back into my left arm earlier! Cut me some slack!!! And are you suggesting I’d be bad at drama? I’d be the best at drama. I will be the best. I’m going to win.

JULIET: K, it's an audition, not a contest. Also, I don't believe you. I definitely am suggesting that you'd be bad at drama. And surgery is no excuse to misspell 'off'.

ROMEO: Ill be great at drama! And surgery is the best excuse for a mistype. My dominant arm is broken.

JULIET: You misspelled 'I'll', too. And that's even more of a reason to proofread your texts before you send them.

ROMEO: Fine, fine. I’ll do better. What are we doing tomorrow for drama? Are you going to FaceTime me if I’m not in class? Or are we texting again?

JULIET: Why the hell would I FaceTime you? And probably neither. You work on fleshing out your character on your own and I'll do the same. Only text me if you have an idea that doesn't concern your character alone.

ROMEO: At least help me start tomorrow? I’ve never done this before! I already forgot what his name is.

JULIET: Alessandro. Just do basic character development stuff. Personality, backstory, family, etcetera.

I turned off my phone for a moment, inhaling deeply and trying to sort out the mess of thoughts currently occupying my brain. But I had barely begun when my screen lit up again, displaying a message from my father that sent an electric shock through my body.

ANGELO: Get home. Now.

I texted Romeo a quick 'gtg', panic giving my feet wings as I sped from the shop, thanking Greg as quickly as possible. Shit.
It would take me at least forty minutes to get home by transit. Marina's house, where I was supposed to be, was ten minutes away from mine. Angelo would instantly know what had happened, and I'd be done for.

(Noooo stop hurting Juliet!!!)

My brows furrowed in concern, looking at her abrupt text. Something about it felt wrong. I wondered if I screwed up somehow, but she had seemed completely fine moment ago. All I could do was hope everything was okay.

ROMEO: Alright, stay safe.

(haha never
and to be fair, you literally tortured Romeo)

Before I went underground, where there was no cell service, I shot Marina a quick text.

JULIET: My dad thinks I'm at your house, just asked me to get home. I'm almost an hour away. Could you sneak out so we can pretend we went to the library or smtg?

She replied quickly in the affirmative, understanding the seriousness of the situation.

My hands shook the whole ride back. Several times, my blank expression threatened to crumble and reveal one of absolute terror, but I somehow managed to salvage it at the last moment. I couldn't tip anyone off, couldn't give any clues.

(He’s an ass, it’s sort of justifiable! Plus I needed a way to ban him from sports.)

I leaned back against the pillows, turning to Mercutio. “I’m worried about Juliet.” I deadpanned, watching Mercurio sigh and glare at me.

“She’s a Capulet. She can handle herself.” He replied, looking down at his phone again. “You shouldn’t like her anyways, Romeo. You’re putting all of us in danger.”

(he's an awesome ass! And to be fair, Juliet's a bigger ass, she emotionally manipulated him for a while)

It took me seven tries to fit my key into the lock of the front door and turn it—my hands were shaking so badly I kept dropping it. When I finally pushed the door open, I was met with dead silence.

"Sir?" I called, slipping off my shoes and making for the kitchen, stumbling in my haste to get there. My father's cold, dark eyes, so similar to mine, stared back at me.
"Sir—I'm sorry, Marina and I, we went to the library—they didn't have what we were looking for, so we—" Angelo cut me off by slamming his fist down on the table. I flinched back, wrapping my arms around my middle as fear and panic flooded my mind.

My father stood and approached me slowly, expression hard and unyielding. "I know," he growled, "When my excuse for a daughter is lying to me. Dimmi, Julieta. Tell me, where were you?"

I took a step backwards, but his hand shot forward and yanked me back up the front of my collar.
"I was—Sir, I'm not lying. I was with Marina and—"
Again, my father interrupted me, this time by forcing me to my knees.

(Oh my god no I love her do NOT hurt her PLEASE)

“All is fair in love and war.” I replied smoothly, winking at Mercutio. My best friend seemed throughly unamused by my antics.

“Yeah, I picked up on that.” He snorted, gesturing to me. “So what’s this about? And how’s your vision doing?” Mercutio held up three fingers. “How many fingers am I—“

“Forty two.” I grumbled sarcastically, fed up with Mercutio’s obsession with my poor vision. “I’m fine.”

(too late)
(also lmao I love those two)

I knew my place, what I was supposed to do. Bowing my head and swallowing thickly, I forced the last of my fire, of my spark, to ebb away, trying to go completely numb. He couldn't break my spirit if I had none.

Angelo walked in a slow circle around me, as if he were the predator and I his prey. And in reality, wasn't it exactly like that? "I will find out," he threatened in a low, dangerous growl. "And I will make you pay. But for now…" He planted his boot in the centre of my back and sent me sprawling.

(I will personally fight Angelo. And by personally I mean Romeo will.)

“You’re getting glasses, Montague.” Mercutio snapped at me, sticking up his middle finger afterwards.

“Do you bite your thumb at me, sir?” I hissed back with a surprising amount of vigor. Mercutio and I stared at each other for almost a full minute.

“What the fuck was that?” Mercutio asked me, narrowing his eyes in confusion. I gave him a baffled shrug.

“I think I’m on too many painkillers, dude.” I mumbled, suspiciously glaring at the tubes in my arm. Mercutio nodded in agreement, and we lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

(XD)

By the time Angelo was finished with me, I was curled into a tight, trembling ball on the kitchen floor. A whimper of pain slipped out from between my lips, which were pressed into a thin line, causing Angelo to crouch down and lean close to my ear.

"What do you say?" he whispered, though he might as well have been screaming. I squeezed my eyes shut to block the constant flow of tears, but they continued to trickle down my cheeks, which were decorated with a new set of bruises.
"I'm—I'm sorry—"
"Good girl."

“I’m getting you the nerdiest glasses I can find. You know those thick frame square ones?” Mercutio was in his glory while I glared furiously at him from my hospital bed.

“You will not.” I grumbled, pouting and crossing my arms.

“Pout doesn’t work on me dumbass. Especially not right now.” I laid down, ignoring him and covering my face with a pillow. “Don’t be a wuss, Romeo!” He sounded gleeful at the thought of ruining me like this.

((I’m going to scream omg Juliet doesn’t deserve this))