ACT I - CINDERELLA
Lord Capulet knocked on Juliet's bedroom door. Tap tap.
"Come in," Juliet's musical voice called from inside.
Capulet pushed the door open gently. His daughter, Juliet, was seated before her vanity mirror, getting her long hair brushed out by the Nurse. She turned in her seat at his entrance. She stood up, and curtseyed, "Father," she beamed. She held her father close to her heart.
Lord Capulet took in the sight of his daughter and wondered where all the years had gone. Now, a girl of fourteen, Juliet looked like a lady. A beautiful lady. He mentally reflected upon all the memories of his little girl growing up.
He shook his head, pulling himself out from the trip down Memory Lane. "You look beautiful, Juliet," he praised her, smiling fondly.
Juliet thanked him with a radiant smile. "Was there anything you wanted, Father?" she enquired, tilting her head slightly.
Lord Capulet nodded, and pulled himself up to his full height, remembering his purpose, and the evening that was about to unfold. "Juliet, when the clock strikes twelve, you must be in bed. If you aren't ... well, the consequences shall be dire." His voice sounded slightly crisp, and the contrast to his former tone startled the young Juliet.
With not many years behind her, Juliet wasn't able to realize that it was because Lord Capulet felt that tonight would be a very important night – a life-changing night for the family. It was highly probable, that, with many unmarried men present, Juliet could get proposed to.
Lord Capulet wasn't ready to let go yet.
Juliet crossed the room in a few light steps, and hugged her father tightly, startling him profusely. He softened, and wrapped his big protective arms around her, smiling to himself.
"Oh, Father!" Juliet gushed. "I'm immensely grateful that you've allowed me to go to this ball! Thank you so much!" she sighed happily into his tailored clothes.
Capulet cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Pfft, Juliet, it was nothing." He grimaced to himself as he uttered the lie. Lady Capulet was all too eager for Juliet to partake in the ball. In fact, she wanted Juliet married off as soon as possible! Lord and Lady Capulet had had a big debacle over the issue, and came to a compromise. Twelve o' clock, the girl would leave for bed.
"Now get ready," he continued to say. "Guests are already arriving." He disentangled himself from her, looked at her in a very fatherly manner, and departed.
Downstairs, where the guests were arriving, a man with the appearance of a certain Paris looked utterly confused. He looked around him, at the bizarre people dressed in clothes from the sixteenth/seventeenth century. He scratched his head, muttering, "Where the blazes am I? Was I knocked unconscious or something? It must have been that guy who plays Tybalt. He was always jealous of my good looks. One second, we were at rehearsals and now I'm ... I'm ... yeah, I don't know where I am ..." He trailed off as he spotted a group of men coming through the door that appeared to be around his age. One in particular appeared to be rather morose-looking. He rushed over to them, hardly startling them in the slightest, only receiving peculiar looks. "Hi, good day Sirs," Paris said, raising his hand in greeting. "Could you tell me what's happening? I seem to have lost my script."
The first man said, "Script? What is this script that you speak of?"
Paris replied quickly, "Oh you know. The thing that you read and learn to act out a scene from? We're doing this thing called Romero and Julie Fairytale something something, or something like that. Anyway, do you see my script?" He looked eagerly at them, anticipating a positive reply.
The man who spoke to Paris first looked at him in disgust, saying, "No, I haven't, you raving lunatic!" The man turned to his two friends, "Honestly Benvolio and Mercutio, why did you two bring me to this thing anyway?" He gestured to the ball taking place around him. (Paris ran off, muttering "I'll have to ask someone else, then") "A useless ball, filled with useless people," the man muttered scathingly.
The man named Benvolio smiled widely at his friend saying, "Always knew you were a cheerful lad, Romeo!"
Romeo scowled. "Oh, hush. I just could've been someplace else doing something better."
His other friend, Mercutio, wiggled his eyebrows mischievously and grinned. "Does it involve long blonde hair, and tall legs?"
Romeo rolled his eyes impatiently and walked away from them. "When you grow up, Mercutio, write to me."
Mercutio turned to Benvolio, asking, "Doesn't he know I hate writing letters? I find it tedious, and the ink never dries in time! And just where does he think he's going?"
Benvolio disregarded Mercutio's take on letter-writing, and instead answered the more important question, "I dunno ... To do something better?"
Romeo, in the meantime, had wandered off aimlessly, and now found himself at the foot of a long fleet of stairs. He stared up, his mouth dropped open in shock, as he watched an angel glide down the stairs ethereally. When she came close enough, he realized that this angel was in fact a mere girl, and the ghost of Rosaline disappeared with a whoosh.
The girl halted before him, smiling at him politely. Was she expecting him to do something? Romeo wondered briefly. Then, remembering where he was – at a ball! – and the gentleman he aimed to be, he bowed before her, and asked, "Madam, would you care to dance?" Appropriate ballroom music was playing.
Her rosy lips lifted into a smile, as a blush brightened her cheeks. Romeo admired this.
Before Juliet realized what she was saying, she replied, "Um, I'm supposed to be in bed by midnight." She clapped her hand to her mouth, and she felt how her eyes widened.
Romeo stared at her, confused. "I beg your pardon?"
Juliet smiled apologetically. "I wasn't supposed to say that out loud. Sorry, I just said the first thing that came to my head. Well actually the second. The first was how beautiful you look with your smouldering eyes –" Her blush deepened, and Romeo grinned. Juliet shook her head in self-bewilderment. "Oh Lord. I did it again. You must think I'm such a - a..." She trailed off, searching for the correct word.
Romeo smiled down at her, taking her hand in his, "An extraordinarily beautiful young lady? Yes, I do. Now would you care to dance?"
Juliet curtseyed, smiling. "I'd be honoured to," she said softly.
They gave themselves in to the music, twirling and dancing around each other. Juliet felt that Romeo was definitely a brilliant dancer; Romeo felt that Juliet was definitely a brilliant dancer.
The tempo of the music slowed down, and Romeo and Juliet started to just sway in each other's arms. Juliet felt his warm arms encircling her waist, and his forehead rested gently against hers. She felt flushed. He murmured, "You know, I was being serious about what I said."
Juliet looked up enquiringly into his eyes. "Which part?"
"That you are indeed quite beautiful." Romeo paused, daring himself to say the next part. "And that I really feel like kissing you now."
Romeo smiled slightly as he noticed a blush creeping up her cheeks. She averted her eyes from his, and he chuckled quietly. "Um, you didn't mention that last part," she said, suddenly shy.
Romeo dipped her suddenly, and he whispered seductively, "May I kiss you?" He stared into her eyes, searching them for an answer.
Juliet answered in a formal tone, "I think that I might oblige to your offer, kind sir."
Romeo grinned cockily and said, "I didn't think you'd be able to resist for much longer."
He brought his lips forward to meet hers, and gently moved them together.
Juliet's lips froze, and Romeo stopped kissing her automatically. He straightened her, and asked, confused, and asked, "What happened, fair lass?"
Juliet looked frustrated. "Kind sir," she said, "you kiss by the book. You need to kiss me with more ... emotion."
Romeo raised his eyebrows. He cupped her face between his hands, and softly brushed his lips over hers. Once. Twice. On the third time, the brush became a mouldering to her lips. He moved her lips softly with his, and the fire that rose up in Juliet's body met with the fire that rose up in Romeo's body. The combination was a heat of passion that caused their heads to ache, and caused their lips to start moving furiously with each other. Before Romeo could deepen the kiss, Juliet broke away, trying desperately not to pant.
His hands were now resting gently on her shoulders, and he was looking at her. Her eyes were shining brightly, and her cheeks were a rosy pink. Romeo wanted to kiss her again.
Just as he started to move in again, a clock somewhere struck twelve. Juliet groaned. "Oh no! I have to go!" she exclaimed.
Romeo looked grief-stricken. "Go where? Don't go!"
Juliet removed his hands from her shoulders, holding them a second too long. When she released them, they collapsed pathetically at his side. "No, no! I'm sorry, but I really cannot stay! I must go!"
She started to walk away, but stopped when Romeo yelled, "No, wait!" He scrambled after her clumsily. "You didn't tell me your name yet!"
"Juliet!" Lord Capulet's voice rang out distantly.
Juliet looked around desperately, as if scared her father might suddenly materialize at her side. She gazed at the man before her. "Goodbye, handsome gentleman. It was an honour making your kiss ... I mean acquaintance. Goodnight." She smiled at him, and ascended the stairs to her bedroom.
"My name's Romeo," Romeo called out to her.
She halted, and turned around, and opened her mouth to say something else, when her father's voice rang out again, "Juliet!"
Juliet took one last look at Romeo, and rushed up the stairs. In her haste, she tripped, and one of her shoes slipped off. Romeo still staring after her, noticed this. Ascending the stairs, Romeo comes to the place where she dropped the shoe. He picks it up, and stares after her.
Paris, hidden under little light, witnessed the whole exchange between Romeo and Juliet. He strokes his chin thoughtfully. Hm, it appears I'm in the Cinderella scene, he thought. Damn, if I could only find that script of mine! Do I come in this scene? Damn, curse man-who-plays-Tybalt! Or perhaps the Wild Witch of Warlock sent me back in time to the real thing! Ooooh, this is fun! But where's my script? Paris exited the ball, welcoming the cool night air. Well, off to find that script.
Romeo was sitting on a chair, turning the shoe over. Something on the underside caught his attention, and he peered closer to get a better look. "Property of Juliet C.," he read out loud. He pondered over this name, and mused aloud, "Hmmm, I wonder what the C stands for... Calverly. Carney. C ... But Juliet is such a lovely name. Hmm, I wonder..."
"Talk to yourself much?" a cheerful voice interrupted him.
Romeo looked up and found his friends: Benvolio and Mercutio.
"Oh, hello there," Romeo, responded kindly, his previous irritation with them forgotten. "No, I was just wondering what surname begins with C and –"
"Let's see ..." Mercutio said. "There's Cutter, Chandler, Chaplin, Corkey, Cock-"
"-with the first name being Juliet," Romeo finished, ignoring Mercutio.
Mercutio gasped loudly and dramatically clapped his hand over his heart. "Oh no, Romeo!" he yelled. Benvolio tried to quieten him. "Tell me you didn't woo Juliet Capulet!" Mercutio continued to yell. A few people looked at them.
Romeo blinked. "Er ... I didn't woo Juliet Capulet."
Mercutio wiped imaginary sweat from his brow. "Oh! Thank the Lord! You seriously didn't?" He sat down on the chair next to Romeo.
Romeo's eyebrows shot up. "I don't know! You said that I must tell you ..."
Benvolio decided to take over. Mercutio looked ready to have a fit. "Romeo, Juliet Capulet happens to be the daughter of Lord Capulet."
Romeo looked bewildered. "Well, how was I to know? We just danced, and kissed, and then she had to go!"
Benvolio shook his head disapprovingly, "Do you just kiss random girls with names unbeknownst to you?"
Romeo shifted uncomfortable under Benvolio's judgemental gaze. "Well-"Romeo started.
"Well," Mercutio said, "you'll just have to forget about her, is what. She's the daughter of our arch nemesis. Heed our warning, because we care for you. Now come, we must go." He got up, and he and Benvolio left together.
Romeo stared at the shoe in his hand, and a flood of memories entered his mind. "But she's beautiful," he murmured.
To be continued ...
Review please : D Criticize, compliment ... I don't really mind. And, yes, I know it sounds absolutely, frightfully stupid...but that's the point : )