Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
A/N: I mention the "curse" or superstition about the play McBeth (sp?) in here. I couldn't remember it exactly, so I sort of altered it to fit my needs. However the part about the lead of McBeth always being injured or killed I believe is true.
SOME THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW BEFORE YOU TRY READING THIS CHAPTER:
While in play scenes (where lines are recited, not my descriptions):
[actions]
(thoughts, whispers. But I will be descriptive so you know)
example:
Juliet/Mia: blahbalhblahl [action] more blah blah. (Look! Its Barney! she whispered at Michael) [moves across stage]. Even more blah blah blah.
Hope that helps.
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Mia waited for Lilly and Michael to enter the limo. It was probably just the fact that today was Thursday, that she felt an impeding sense of doom, anxiety made her shiver several times until Lars finally asked the driver to turn on the heat.
Lilly opened the door and slid in. But Michael didn't follow. "He took the subway today, had to get to school early today, but he didn't say why."
Mia sighed, so this was what she was anxious about. Michael was avoiding her. Of course this turn for bad luck just HAD to do with the most spectacular, the most perfect and lovely person in her life. Last night, after the first break during rehearsal, he wouldn't speak to her. He was dragged off by Mrs. Hill at first, with Mandella in tow, but after that... he didn't even say good-bye to her before she had to go to princess lessons.
It probably had to do with the incident at the very beginning of rehearsal. Mia had been doing everything perfectly, until they got to the balcony scene, and she and Michael were practicing. (James didn't show up for the rehearsal.) Everyone was watching, and suddenly: whoops! Michael was falling off the balcony, and landing (thankfully) in the pile of costumes that was below. Thank god for whoever forgot to move the costumes, otherwise... who knows what injuries Michael might have gotten.
Yes, she could understand why he wouldn't want a girlfriend who manages to, accidentally, nearly kill him.
What would have happened if this was Michael visiting her on the fire escape out her window? just like in so many of her dreams lately. She shuddered, the image of Michael, dead on the pavement below her bedroom window after a late night escapade to the fire escape. An image of a stunned and very dead Michael, with a pool of blood flooding the sidewalk, creating a ghastly halo, haunted for her a moment.
Positive thoughts, Mia. Positive thoughts.
That won't happen, because he's taking the precautions to survive for himself. By ditching her.
Now, he goes to school early, and probably would try and get out of talking to her through out the day... Mia sighed, her chest felt weighted. She would be very glad when this whole damn Romeo and Juliet fiasco was through.
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It was just like Mia had suspected. He didn't walk her to her classes; Michael wasn't there during Lunch, or G&T. There was no note left near her locker explaining his anger, his disappearance. He was just gone.
Mia sniffled as she changed into Juliet's dress. Now would be the worst time to cry. Definitely, the worst time to cry. Tina had just finished fixing her make up.
"Mia Thermopolis!" Mrs. Hill called. "We need Juliet on stage, now!"
Mia took one last look in the mirror to see the mascara had already run, and her eyes were already red and puffy, she wiped her eyes on her sleeves with out thinking. Her white sleeves now had mascara marks on them.
"Oh god," she grabbed a Kleenex and trailed behind Lars as he headed to the stage.
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"Mia, what is that?" Mrs. Hill asked.
"This?" Mia lifted her arm gingerly hoping the Kleenex covering the mascara stains wouldn't float away.
"Yes that. Take off the Kleenex, it will just be a distraction," Mrs. Hill sighed.
"Um..."
"Mia..." She removed the tissue from her arm. "Oh, what's that mark?"
"Mascara..."
"Come here, Mia." Now she really couldn't help it. This day had just been so horrible, and the final production was two days away, and everyone was pressuring her. She had to be perfect for Grandmére and her father, and what about Jane Lee and the reporters that would be there not to mention her mom and Mr. G and what if Michael decided to show up?
Her thoughts wheeled through her mind 100 miles an hour. She barely heard what Mrs. Hill said.
"What?"
"I said, calm down. It's not a big deal. We've still got two days, and bleach will take it out easily if we put it in now."
"Bleach?"
"Yeah, of course, Mia. Go change, than give the costume to Michelle, she'll know what to do with it. Today's rehearsal will be in your normal clothes. Better to have mistakes now than the night of the performance."
Mia clutched the Kleenex in her hand and flushed with embarrassment. So she hadn't ruined the dress after all.
At least one thing turned out all right.
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(Michael's POV)
Today has been miserable. I had to skip all of my classes (this part wasn't so bad) to work with Mandella, because that idiot James fell down some stairs and broke his leg. How do you break your leg just falling down stairs?
So anyway, he wasn't at school, so Mrs. Hill dragged me out of rehearsal yesterday to tell me, and so I spent the rest of the time with Mandella making sure I knew how to do everything.
Of course I know how to do everything! I'm Michael! No, seriously though, between the rehearsal last night and during school today, Mandella made sure I knew how to do everything with my eyes closed and my hands behind my back.
But I doubt Mia is happy with me right now, she probably feels like I've shunned her or something because of the balcony incident. She lacks the confidence to realize I'm avoiding her to spare HER the embarrassment. I really don't want her to see me in tights. Until she has to, Mandella has made enough fun of me as it is. I can't eve begin to think of what would happen if the school saw me like this.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a type to usually worry about appearances. But even the least self-aware person would refuse to go in public wearing this costume. Its like wearing a speedo, but with leggings. And frill.
Anyway, Mrs. Hill made me pull out of rehearsal too, to go work with Mandella in some classroom to cement the lines, again. So I didn't even get the chance to try and say something to Mia... she was still changing. I wouldn't have minded walking in... but I'm sure she would have become pissed at me.
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"I heard he said, the name of that one play that you're not supposed to name," said Sandra, she was a rather... large girl who was chosen to play Juliet's nurse. "And that's why James broke his leg."
"What play?" another girl asked eagerly, sensing something scandalous.
"Its another Shakespeare play, come on... you know it..."
"It's not a big deal. Say it."
"I can't..." Sandra tried to explain.
"Just say it," a third girl insisted.
Mandella walked up behind them. "Don't say the name unless you want the affect of the curse to land on you, too." She said it right as Sandra looked as though she would spill her guts to them.
Sandra froze, but looked thankfully at Mandella.
"Why can't she say the name?" now the group of five girls crowded around Mandella. She didn't have time for this. "It's a legend that all lead characters who star in one particular play have been killed or fatally injured around the time they starred in this one play. A heavy superstition, that hasn't proved false yet."
The girls turned to each other nervously. She continued, "However, the curse will affect you even if you aren't the star of this play. Just being a part of any production and throwing the name around like its nothing can be detrimental as well. If you say the name, something unfortunate will happen to you. James was stupid and said the name, despite that he knew what would happen. Now, his leg is broken."
She turned and left the gaggle of girls staring behind her.
"I told you I couldn't say it," Sandra pouted smugly.
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"Michael's avoiding me," she let her fingers trace over the patterned tiles in the bathroom.
"No he isn't Mia. Why do you always assume the worst?"
"I do not always assume the worst, besides, he is! I haven't seen or spoken to him I nearly two days!" Mia cried.
Before Tina could make any sort of sensible reply, Mia spoke again. "He could have called me, at least," she added forlornly. Continued to re-apply her make-up, Mia knew that she was still thinking or she would have said something by now.
"Wow," Tina whispered finially, stopping the re-application of her mascara. "It sounds like he broke up with you."
"I know! Tina what am I going to do? I love him!"
"Well, first of all, be angry, very angry. But be reasonable." Mia looked at her like she was crazy. "All the heroines in the books I've read have been rightfully angry after their true love has done something horrible. And it only makes the man involved more eager to reunite with her in such a romantic way that it can't help but make your heart-break with longing to be in her—"
Mia cut in, "Do you really think I should be mad at him? I mean, I'm the one that tried to kill him."
"Mia, you didn't TRY, it was an ACCIDENT. And you can fully see that he is quite capable of walking still."
"Tina it just doesn't seem right."
"He's the one that's been avoiding YOU! Mia, YOU! The one who is supposed to be his true love!!!"
Mia tried her best to look angry for Tina.
"Lets go back to the cafeteria," Tina said, slipping her arm through Mia's. "Or people might think something is wrong with us."
On the way down the hallway, Tina led Mia through a node of people, standing aimlessly there. As usual, to avoid confrontation, Mia looked down at her shoes, until someone going the opposite direction bumped into her. She dropped the book and papers in her hand.
"Oh, I'm really sorry, Mia."
She snapped her head up. Michael was walking a away briskly talking to an impatiently waiting Mandella. Mia couldn't find anything to be mad about before, but she was definitely mad now. He had almost completely ignored her, and probably wouldn't have spoken to her at all if it weren't for the collision.
Mia loved Michael, but if he was going to treat her like this, she couldn't help but feeling angry. Angry, and upset, doubting everything that she thought they had been. It looked like he was dating Mandella now. Probably a good thing, Mia decided completely depressed. They were better suited for eachother, senior-junior, than senior-freshman. And on top of that, Mandella doesn't need any tutoring, at all. But it still wasn't fair that Michael had led her on like this.
Yes, maybe she could be mad after all.
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(FRIDAY—Day before the Performance)
He still hadn't spoken to Mia since the collision in the hallway, but something said that she didn't want to speak with him anyway.
Michael tried to shrug off the feeling, deciding the cafeteria incident was just everyone under pressure from the impeding production tomorrow night.
Chocolate milk never tastes as good when you've got sour thoughts in your mind, Michael determined. Walking past a garbage container, he threw his lunch inside.
He'd lost his appetite.
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Mia couldn't decide what to do. She had heard Michael call to her while she finished paying for her lunch when he called out to her. But she'd ignored him, deciding that if he really wanted to talk to her, he could go find her. Its not like he didn't know where she sat for lunch.
But he never came.
Her emotions were one huge swirling mass of ... everything, and she suddenly became very glad that Lilly had run off with Boris the moment before for a luncheon interlude.
Psychoanalyzing would definitely not help her current situation.
The chatter around her was so pointless she finally sighed, stood up and made to leave, surprising everyone. Mia slipped into the library unnoticed, and that's where she spent the rest of the day, hidden in the back, sullenly trying to figure everything out.
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(Before the production)
"Mandella! There you are! What is Michael doing in James' costume?"
Mandella turned away from the lighting board she was leaning over. "What?"
"Why is Michael Romeo?"
"Because James broke his foot, and is currently hospitalized. Besides, even if he wasn't in the hospital, there is no way he could have maneuvered in a wheel chair the way we've got the stage set up." Mandella turned back to the board of complicated knobs and flashing lights.
"Why wasn't I told?"
"Because you were too busy wallowing in self pity, and thinking only of yourself to see that Michael had disappeared to work with Mrs. Hill on the SAME day that James' didn't show up. On top of that, he tried to talk to him, but in your egotistical moment, you shunned his every attempt, (well, his only attempt) at explaining things to you. You chose to prefer the idea that Michael broke up with you, and was avoiding you, and blah blah blah. Or so I heard from Tina."
Mia was shocked. She and Michael were still dating!!!!!!! And Tina had told on her!!!!!
"But not only that, did you ever think of providing any emotional support for Michael as he has had only TWO days to prepare? Did you? And did you even once consider trying to contact him in anyway, or even relaying a message through me, or Lilly?"
"No," Mia whispered. "I thought maybe he broke up with me, and had started dating you."
"Ridiculous, I hope you know. And, if I were you, I would apologize, and soon," Mandella remarked before twisting a few knobs and walking briskly away.
Mia flushed with embarrassment, how could she have been so thoughtless and blind?
She'd seen Michael earlier in the Romeo costume and immediately stalked off to find Mandella, demanding an explanation. Instead of a simple response, Mia received what she considered to be probably the worst reprimand ever. And considering she is related to Grandmére...
But it was always so much worse coming from a friend, especially one Mia now considered close.
Lilly came pounding up to Mia, interrupting her harsh thoughts. "Mia, come on! What are you doing? It's starting! Get back stage!"
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(During the production)
Mia concentrated on her breathing, slow, slow and steady. Only a very slight movement must even be visible. Slow. Around her, from off stage, the boy who played Balthasar called across to Tina who played Friar Lawrence.
Michael whispered in her ear, "Mia, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. I didn't have time."
She held her breath and listened. "By the time I got home from school I was so exhausted from rehearsals, I wouldn't even talk to Lilly."
"Alack, alack, what blood is this which stains the stony entrance of this sepulcher?" Mia heard Friar Lawrence call. Her ears perked up, it was nearly time. She wanted to answer Michael, she really did, but she couldn't now.
Friar Lawrence spoke again, "What mean these masterless and gory swords To lie discolored by this place of peace? Romeo! O, pale! Who else? What, Paris too? And steeped in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour is guilty of this lamentable chance! The lady stirs!"
Mia feigned waking slowly, sitting up and stretching slightly. She casually looked at the room in wonderment, and than as if an evil thought dawned on her she searched around as though in great despair. "Oh comfortable Friar," she called. "Where is my lord? I do remember well where I should be, And there I am. Where is my Romeo?"
Tina entered onto the stage, wearing a faux beard, and a large brown burlap robe. This time at the sight of Tina, Mia didn't laugh. She was too scared that she would mess up her own to find Tina's cross-dressing entertaining.
Friar Lawrence: I hear some noise. –Lady, come from that nest of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep. [She led out her hand towards Mia] A greater power than we can contradict hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away. [She gestured towards Michael.] Thy husband in the bosom there lies dead, and Paris, too. Come, I'll dispose of thee among a sisterhood of holy nuns. Stay not to question, [Tina started to tug at Mia] for the watch is coming. Come, go, good Juliet. I dare no longer stay.
Practiced tears ran down Mia's face, she forced herself to think of Michael as truly dead. "Go, get thee hence, for I will not away," she told the Friar Lawrence savagely. She/he left.
"What's here?" she asked gently. "A cup closed in my true love's hand?"
She wrapped her fingers around his. "Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end.—" She looked inside the cup and than turned to the audience with disappointment etched upon her face. "Oh churl, drunk all, and left no friendly drop To help me after!"
Mia let the cup drop to the floor. It clanged loudly and she cringed slightly. "I will kiss thy lips. Haply some poison yet doth hand on them, To make me die with a restorative," she said with growing enthusiasm. She leaned over her Romeo, and gently brushed hair from across his face before kissing him. "Thy lips are warm!" she cried startled.
The watchman, Paul, called loudly from off the stage, "Lead, boy! Which way?"
Juliet: Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. [She pulled a short brilliantly shining dagger from its cover.] O, happy dagger, This is thy sheath. [Juliet let the tip trace lightly across her breast.] There! Rust, and let me die!
Mia pretended to forcefully stab herself. Though she held a real dagger, its real purpose was to pop a packet of fake red blood that was taped against her skin. It worked, and soon there was red seeping onto her hand, she looked at it once and let the dagger fall from her other hand onto the floor before finally coming to rest next to Michael.
It was moment before anyone moved, complete silence echoed in Mia's ears violently. Slowly, the burning light which had focused on her moments before dimmed its horrid glare.
A moment later, the Prince in his regal attire paced confidently onto the stage. Mia tried hard not to breath huge gaping breaths, but despite that her role was finished, she was still excruciatingly nervous. Michael let the arm that draped over Mia's stomach move slightly, so that he could brush his thumb against Mia's arm. She started to relax.
Lord Capulet came onto the stage then, and spoke as he strode towards the prince. "As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie, Poor sacrifices of our enimity."
The Prince walked mournfully around the clothed table where the two star- crossed lovers lay.
"A glooming peace this morning with it brings. The sun for sorrow will not show his head. Go hence to have more talk of these sad things. Some shall be pardoned, and some punishéd." The Prince paused here dramatically, and raised his arm to gesture at Juliet.
"For never was a story of more woe, Than this of Juliet and her Romeo."
The lights dimmed and current came down. Mia threw her arms around Michael before he could even attempt to sit up. Even through the thick current they could hear the growing roar of applause. The people who came actually LIKED the performance. Mia was amazed.
"Oh Michael! I'm sorry for doubting you, for not listening," she said happily into his shoulder. Michael, grinning stupidly, smothered Mia in his arms (unintentionally, and out of joy of course).
"Listen to them Mia," he said, petting her head. "They loved you."
"Really?" she was still a little dubious.
Mandella was beside them now, both arms draped luxuriously across their shoulders. "Come on love-birds, time to go take your bows," she took in each of her hands, an arm and yanked them forward off of the tomb.
"Oh, Mia! By the way," Mandella said abruptly stopping. "Brilliant job up there, hopefully now you'll start believing in yourself, yes?"
Mia hung her head meekly. "Maybe," she whispered. Michael slipped his hand into hers, and they followed Mandella around the curtain.
When they stepped out, the lights were fully on again, and all three lifted their hands to shield their eyes from the glaring lights. All of the rest of the staff and actors were on stage, they had already taken their bows. The audience stood and shouted their appreciation. Michael felt himself glowing with an overwhelming pride. His girlfriend was so amazing, and he just happened to be the world's luckiest son of a bitch.
Mia squinted into the front row, looking for where her family sat. Jane Lee smiled slightly and lazily brought her hands together in a polite golf clap. But Mia knew that this meant Jane Lee was pleased. (Something about being over enthusiastic audience means the emotional support is fraudulent... Mia never really understood it, just did her normal smile and nod routine.) Her mom and Mr. G. were beaming proudly, even her father seemed happy. On the other side of her father sat Grandmére, in a chair draped with royal purple velvet. How suiting. But Mia nearly shouted for joy when she saw her grandmother make a small movement with her head. A very, very small movement, and that happened to be a nod of approval. For the first time, Mia was getting her grandmothers' support. She felt one of those old cliché feelings growing inside her, you know, the warm and fuzzy feeling. She grinned at Michael, who squeezed her hand.
After the majority of people had left (including all of the press, shouting annoyingly for interviews), and Grandmére had returned to the Plaza, Michael and Mia some how ended up in the limo, alone with Lars.
Michael led Mia up the steps to the foyer of his apartment building, swinging her hand in his wildly between them.
"I never knew my girlfriend was so cool," he said grinning as they walked inside.
"You think I'm cool?!"
"Of course I do," Michael said. "I don't date the un-cool type."
"You think I'm cool?" Mia asked again.
"Would I do this, if I didn't?" and he kissed her, in the middle of the apartment lobby. For once he ignored his normal restrictions of PDA, and openly swapped his spit with hers. It was romantic in one of those very- dorky-uncool ways. Mia giggled at that thought. Michael Moscovitz, her one true love, thought she was cool. And here, on Valentine's Day, she was able to spend part of the evening with him after all.
"So, um..." Michael started, breaking away from the kiss. "Are you busy next Friday?"
Mia looked at him solemnly. "Yes, I already have other plans." He looked at her with immense disappointment.
"Sorry, Michael." She looked at him patiently. "Well? Aren't you going to ask what I'm doing?"
"Okay," he said slowly, "what are you doing?"
"You see, there's this really hot boy that I'm supposed to go see a rare showing of Star Wars with," Mia felt herself starting to grin, she couldn't help it. "And I just can't miss out on a once-in-a-life-time opportunity like that."
Michael stared at her. "Especially when this really hot boy I know," Mia continued, giggling. "Is so smart, that he even got accepted into Columbia through early decision, and he loves to secretly play guitar, even though it's not really a secret anymore. And-"
Michael kissed her, stopping Mia's longwinded and kind of confusing ramble. Nearby Lars pulled out a magazine ("Weapons today"), now that the two were together, there was no separating them. Literally.
And so this Romeo, and this Juliet, (who happened to survive their torrid love affair) lived happily and romantically together, for the rest of their days.
THE END!
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