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

Started February 05, 2019 by @blue_topaz

tune

September had begun to fade into October, taking with it the sweltering sun and humidity-choked air. It was still pleasant out, but clouds could now be seen streaking across the faded sky, and a subtle chill had begun to set in every night.

It had been three days since my father's major attack on me, and I still hadn't fully recovered, further proving how weak I was. My hands still trembled when I tried to hold a pencil, my voice remained a notch quieter than usual, and large bruises continued to decorate my face, visible despite the thick layer of makeup I now wore daily.

The first thing I did when I arrived at school was sit with my back to the wall and take out my notebook—the one with my notes and plans for drama. Communicating through text, Romeo and I had managed to hash out a rough plotline and finish fleshing out our characters, only this time, I'd been careful to keep the conversation strictly on the project.

Life had sucked lately. After the Juliet abruptly left our conversation the day I wound up in the hospital, she’d been cold with me. I knew it was my fault, and I felt terrible about it. It only took three days for my father to practically kidnap me and drag my sorry ass home. I’d been yelled at, hit a few more times, and banished to my room for awhile. And finally, sent off to school again. My black eye had stopped swelling, and the bruise on my jaw had faded. However, now there was a scar running down from the left side of my head, down to the bottom of my left ear from where I’d been hit, and another by my ribs, where the surgery had taken place.

I ached. All the time. Everywhere. It was awful. And Juliet’s harsh treatment made it all worse. Mercutio had gotten his way, and I now had glasses perched on my crooked nose. They weren’t as dorky as I expected. Rectangular and black with thin frames that stopped me from squinted like an idiot all the time. I hadn’t told Juliet that I’d be in yet, hoping to surprise her. The cast on my arm was white, and I was praying I could convince her to draw on it. But to be honest, I looked different. My hair started getting a bit shaggy, since I hadn’t gotten my hair cut for awhile. I don’t quite carry myself the way I used to either. Less confidence in my stride. All affixed on the stupid ass glasses on my face.

I walked up to my locker, struggling to remember my combination. Today was probably going to be terrible.

(aw, poor bb)

The bell rang, and for the first time in the past few days, the sound made me flinch, which caused Joe, Marina, and the rest of the group, who were gathered around me, to blink at me in shock. I exhaled slowly and got to my feet, slipping between Jamie and Andreas to get to the doors.

I pushed through the heavy crowd to my locker, but my foot snagged on an uneven tile. I caught myself before I stumbled, but in the process of doing so, my eyes latched on a very familiar shape.
Romeo?

Just as quickly as they'd found them, I was tearing them away and fixing them to my combination lock. I couldn't be caught looking at Romeo. Especially not by him.

“Fuck you.” I spat at my locker, glaring at the metal doors. I had no idea what the combination was. It wasn’t worth the fight. Since when do I even look at my books in class? I shot one last glare at it before retreating, my bag still slung over my uninjured shoulder. I kept my eyes on the ground, dragging my feet on the way to precalc in defeat. I kept my head low, unwilling to deal with anyone at the moment. Mercutio eventually appeared at my side, but thankfully remained silent since he understood my injuries the best.

I had PreCalc first thing… Fantastic. Math at nine in the morning, Romeo and Mercutio in the class with me, a set of barely covered bruises in plain view. This day really couldn't get any worse, could it?

I kept my back straight and my chin up the whole way to class, staring straight ahead while lighting a false fire in my eyes, one hopefully good enough to fool everyone around me. When I arrived, just in time to hear my name called from the attendance, I didn't glance in the direction of Romeo a single time, only made my way to an empty seat across the room from him.

I couldn’t focus the entire class, my eyes on Juliet. She looked… bruised. At that infuriated me to a whole other level. I rounded on a Mercutio but he insisted no Montague was behind the attack. I didn’t buy it, but there was only one way to find out. I had drama with Juliet lunch period, and I knew we were the only two that had that lunch. I had to find out what happened. But I had to wait. It was going to be a long day…

The day wore on. I spoke little, glared a lot, kept my chin up. No one bothered me, except for Marina and Joe, who's bothering was welcome. But eventually, the looming threat of lunch arrived… and there was nothing I could do about it. So I took my time getting to Drama, arriving just in time for my name to be called for the roll call—but another issue had arisen. There was a seating plan on the board. And my spot was next to Romeo's.

Slowly, I walked towards it and sat down, avoiding his eyes as I set my notebook on the desk.

“Hey.” I breathed softly, my cast resting on the table between us. I had made sure to get the left desk that way she wouldn’t have to reach over if she were to draw on my cast. Her defeated posture ruined me, and if I wasn’t in so much pain, I would’ve tried to hug her. But instead all I could do was silently will her to make eye contact, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Hey," I echoed, though my voice was as hard and flat as I could make it in my current state, holding no trace of hope like his. But even so, I knew how evident it would be to him that I was not myself. I could only shake my hair in front of my face to mask the largest of my bruises—other than the ones on my throat, of course.

Every internal alarm I had went off immediately. “I know you’re not going to tell me what happened, but can I at least see your face?” I asked quietly, keep my voice low and gentle. “I need someone to mock me for my dorky glasses.” I added on, trying to coax her into looking at me. My heart now felt as though it was being wrenched from my chest. Seeing Juliet like this was incredibly worse than being rejected.

I wanted to curl into a little ball on the floor and never get up again. I wanted to stand up and leave, just like that, ride the bus to Greg's. But I didn't. I only stoked the false fire in my eyes and turned my head to look at him, unflinchingly, unwaveringly. After a beat of silence, I exhaled slowly and opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again and lowered my gaze back to my notebook.

I bit down on my lip, my eyes watering. “Fuck.” I hissed in frustration. The physical pain was already too much, and my parents refused to give me an pain killers besides the occasional Advil. But this? This right now? It shook to me my core in a way I didn’t think was possible. “I’m sorry.” I muttered, dipping my head as well. “I don’t know if I caused this— or who did this, but I’m so, so sorry.”

His words, so soft and sympathetic, hit me harder than my father ever could. Fuck. No. I didn't need this, didn't need him complicating my life more than he already had. Everything hurt too much to be bearable with a sizeable helping of Romeo Montague on the side. So I squeezed my eyes shut, tightened my grip on my pen, and when I opened them again, they were hard and unyielding.
"Don't be."

It came out as less of a growl and more of a snarl, the effect largely ruined by the way my voice cracked on the last word. "Let's just work on the project."

I flinched, not at her tone, but at the painful crack at the end of her sentence. “You don’t have to talk to me… I-I know you don’t want to…” I rejected the whole speech I had planned during the day, demanding she tell me what was wrong. I didn’t have the strength to cause anymore damage. This was agonising on so many levels. “But… But my cast. I’m uh… I’m not asking you to sign in, since, you know. But I was thinking, maybe you could draw on it? Instead of your jeans this time..? I can just work on Alessandro while you do that. And we don’t have to say anything. Would that be okay?” My sentences sounded desperate and pleading in nature. I was literally begging her to draw on my cast, just above kissing her shoes begging at this rate.

He was asking me to do what?? Shock spread like a wildfire across my features before I managed to smother it.
"Romeo." I hated how… finished I sounded. "Do you seriously think that would be a good idea with people watching?"
How could he even consider that as a possibility?? Did he have no concept of what war between mafia families meant??

“Everyone’s working on their projects, I doubt they’ll care.” I murmured back. “If they’re taking about anything, it’s how I vanished for about a week and came back with my shit absolutely wrecked. I’ve heard the rumours. They all think it was you or Tybalt anyways. I’ve been telling people it was you. I refuse to let Tybalt enjoy that.” I scrunched up my nose in disgust. “So what do you say?”

"I say no." I kept my eyes glued to the paper, my voice low so that only he could hear it. "You're an idiot if you think no one will care. Everyone in this room will care. Marina will care. Joe will care. My father will care. I will care. My life is complicated enough without all this. We're not friends. We can't be friends. Stop acting like there are any other possibilities."

Why did I feel like I was about to cry? In the middle of drama class? In front of Romeo Montague?
"My dad is mad enough at me already. So just stop." Swallowing hard, I stood, and left the class to go to the washroom.