Thank you reviewers named and unnamed for, as folks in the "Xena" fandom would say, feeding the bard. And without further ado, her goes

ACT II: Where we get a glimpse of some preparations for The Day and we see more characters, some of whom meet and click.

Scene I

Juliet Club

"This is so beautiful," sighed Lorna.

"What?" Cindy looked up from her stash of letters.

"Lorna!" Piper scolded.

The woman tried to hide the piece of paper she had been daydreaming over, without realizing she was commenting out loud.

"Give it back, please."

"What?" she feigned indifference.

"Give it back!"

Lorna tried to play the innocent some more, but Piper just hovered over her desk unrelenting, open hand stretched out, waiting.

"Ooh, alright," she surrendered, retrieved the letter from under the other ones and gave it to Piper, who just had to read the first line to know.

"Lorna, really?"

"Oh shit," swore Flaca. "Not again."

"I was just... studying it, just to be prepared!"

Piper sighed, and put the object back to its rightful place: the lockbox. Lorna eyed it wistfully.

"You know there are copies if you need to consult it, but the original has to stay safe."

"Like she ain't done a half dozen copies for herself too," said Cindy, elbowing Flaca.

Lorna sulked. "Yes, but I just needed to get a feel of the original, you know, the actual paper he has used, the type of ink..."

"'Twas a squared paper sheet badly torn from a notebook, and probably a 30 cents Bic Cristal pen," Flaca whispered not so quietly.

At this, Lorna sprung up from her chair. "Oh, you're just... horrible, insensitive brutes!" and she made for the door.

Piper tried to stop her. "Hey, where are you going?"

"To make myself a coffee!"

"Oh, could you make me one too?" asked Flaca.

"NO!" and slam the door went.

..."Ouch."

"Yeah."

"Girls," Piper started. "You know Lorna is very, erm, invested in this and -"

"No way, really? We hadn't noticed."

Piper glared at Cindy, and she shut up.

Flaca put her letter to the side, and looked at them. "We don't want a repeat of the Christopher affair, like... it's not good for her y'know?"

Piper nodded. "Yes, we should definitely try to get her to see things in the right perspective. But let's just be a tad kinder about it mh?"

Mh, Cindy and Flaca assented.

Now they had only been in town for a few months, Piper working on her Ph.D in Comparative Literature and the others on a scholarship. Piper had been drawn to the Club by a general urge to be involved in as many extracurriculars as she could; Flaca had just thought it would be nice to help out people with insightful advice; and Cindy had simply followed her along.

So none of them was present or knew the others at the time - but they had all heard about the Christopher affair from two years before, courtesy of signora DeMarco.

The Juliet Club had existed for decades; it organized events but mainly answered to thousands of letters sent every year from people all over the world to 'Juliet' on their love stories, but not only, in all sorts of languages. Its volunteers were mostly students, several international ones who were there only temporarily, and a faithful core of middle-aged local women. And one of them was Anita DeMarco, who loved gossip.

Lorna had also been volunteering at the Club for a long time; she and her sister Francesca where American-born, but had come back to the land of their ancestors for an inheritance and then never left.

According to DeMarco, Lorna had started a private (absolutely against the rules!), and soon pretty unilateral correspondence with this guy who had written once, thought she was living a beautiful romantic love story, and it almost ended with him pressing charges for stalking.

"Good," said Piper. "So we're just going to keep an eye on her when they meet, OK?"

"Fine."

"Aye madam!" Cindy saluted.

This Vinnie boy must be a weirdo of his own kind, anyways, but Lorna already appeared quite enamoured with him.

He had written a very cute honest letter on his life as an adult living with his parents, Italian father and American mother, and his little brother Gino, his passion for Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and his longing to know and feel what love is, for someone to show him - which got him to end up as one of the winners of their annual "Cara Giulietta" contest.

"OK. I'm going to see if she's calmed down a bit. You go on with the new epistles," and Piper left the room.

Flaca and Cindy exchanged a look.

"Epistles?"

"Yay girl!"

They sniggered.

"Taylor Swift's the democratic bossy kind mh."

"Sure is."

"A'right," Cindy sighed. "Now let's pretend to go on with our work, so Chapman will find us aall busy when she gets back."

Scene II

Around town

They were strolling along via Mazzini, the main shopping venue all covered with huge heart decorations and lights, having just left piazza Bra with the Arena, the big Roman amphitheater, behind them.

It was easy to walk around the historical center, all contained as it was in the reverse U drawn by the river that passed through town. Pedestrian streets formed a maze, winding between houses and monuments left by the Romans, Venice and Austria during their rules over the millennia, from antiquity to the Renaissance to the present day.

"Darn but the streets around here are narrow, ain't they?" Cal asked rhetorically to no one in particular, trying to make his way back to his wife and daughter through the crowd of tourists around him.

"Here you are;" Neri had stopped near a place with an open front and a chocolate fountain. "We are feeling like ice cream, whaddaya say?"

"Ice cream? It's a bit cold for that..." he shuddered at the thought.

"We are strong," Goodall stated with finality.

"Right."

Their empowering speeches since she was still in the womb had certainly worked on Goodall; Cal just wished someone had done at least an ounce of them when he was a baby too, he might feel half as confident as his daughter by now.

"Come. It's local ingredients, I checked it out on TripAdvisor," his wife assured.

Ookay then…

They chose their flavors and went on walking.

"Mh, this is good." Cal'd gone for two scoops: a chocolatey sort of thing with hazelnuts called bacio (kiss), and Recioto, a local red wine, sweet, intense, raisins-and-cherry-like.

"What time are we meeting Piper again?"

"In a couple of hours, she's got a 'thing' tonight." On the phone she had sounded pleasantly surprised to discover they were there 'on holiday'. Of course she didn't know about Cal's true job, neither did their parents; they mostly thought Neri was the breadwinner while he lazed around at home, or possibly still weren't convinced he wasn't involved in some not entirely legal business. He had tried to explain things as truthfully as possible saying he was doing some freelance emotional counseling gigs, but for some reason they didn't seem to think that must be a real occupation.

"Hey dad, look there!" pointed Goodall.

"Mpfffh" and Neri suffocated a laugh.

Oh goodness. There in a shop window was a rather unflattering display of images of him, well, of a kid posing as him in classic Cupid iconography, rosy cheeks, curly golden locks, diaper bow arrows fake wings and all - but this was a common occurrence Cal was used to by now. What was offensive in these photos here -it must be a camera shop- was not the gross oversimplification of his figure and role, but the subject they had chosen: a, how to put it, particularly ugly baby.

"But WHY." Cal was mortified.

"He must be the owner's son, no other explanation."

"Yeah." And to think some people dared say there were no ugly kids. They had never seen this one clearly.

"Well I've seen the pics, you were a wrinkled little frog too."

"Hey!"

"I didn't see the pics!" Goodall cried.

"I'm showing you later," her mom whispered conspiratorially. Cal frowned.

Suddenly something else dawned on Goodall. "Dad! Why did you take the cup? The cone is zero waste!"

"Oh right G, I forgot! - sorry! Scusa -" he told the man he'd inadvertently bumped into.

"It's OK."

"Wow, what a little monster!" Alex chuckled to her friend.

"Ssh!" Farhi shushed her, failing to hide his own mirth.

"What's up there?" she gestured to the short queue under the tower they'd stopped by.

A girl a few feet away was cheerfully advertising the thing. "Discount price for couples!"

"Surprise surprise..." Alex shook her head.

There was a billboard explaining what it was all about. Torre dei Lamberti. "It says there's a great view of the city," he cleared his throat. "And of the heart-shaped market down here! I hadn't realized it was a heart."

"Yeah, me neither," Alex murmured; took his arm and moved towards the nearby stalls. "Come buy me a Prosecco or something, maybe it'll make me forget."

"OK grumpy cat."

"I thought we were here for work," - she pointed out as she took her glass of white.

"What's the hurry? There's always tomorrow for work. Live a little!"

"Oh, a'right," they clinked glasses. "As long as you pay!"

Scene III

Outside the Auditorium, Università degli Studi

Lorna smiled brightly when she saw Piper. "So did you see your brother? Is he good?"

They had just met out there, eager to enter as soon as they opened the doors.

"I did! He's well. And his wife, and the little hippie."

"The welder?"

"That's the niece!" explained Flaca.

Lorna was confused: "The niece is a welder? I thought she was three."

"In-law is a welder, niece's the little one, they're all hippies," Flaca listed.

"Ooh okay. That's nice," Lorna said doubtfully.

"Shall we?" People were now filing into the Auditorium.

It was one of the town's many Valentine's events: a round table talk on tropes of love and their subversion in Shakespeare and modern reinterpretations.

Piper and Flaca had being drawn in by the topic itself, as well as the fact that the thing had been organized by two of their professors - a Shakespeare scholar, and a feminist Philosopher; Lorna had just tagged along.

Piper met the gaze of this big, sunglasses-wearing blonde woman with loads of golden bangles on her arms and grinned, waving at her and receiving a small nod in exchange.

"Kiss-ass," murmured Flaca.

Piper was indignant. "What, no! She's my tutor here, I'm just being friendly."

"A'right, OK," the other conceded, as they sat down.

Apart from members of academia, some very special guests would participate: an American theater company.

But it was no ordinary company: they specialized in classics but tended to twist them, just as they were an all-female group instead of Elizabethan times all-male ones. Most actresses were ex-cons, and they came in all shapes, colors, and varieties. They were called The Lady King's Women Conpany.

The stage was soon full of chairs, occupied by all those women; it was an impressive sight.

"Buonasera, signore e signori. Good evening everyone."

"Ain't she one of your 'tutor''s lackeys?" asked Flaca.

"She's one of her assistants!"

"Yeah, what I said."

Flaca's eyes scanned through the array of people on stage. White faces, black girls, an Asian or two, and some Latinas; not bad.

They were still at the greetings part, and it was dragging on as an interpreter stopped here and there to translate for the audience.

"Excuse us if we might appear somewhat out of it at times," a bushy redhead started. "We just got here last night, and mixing jet lag and your wonderful Valpolicella wines today wasn't our most brilliant idea."

Some chuckles from the public.

Flaca observed her critically. "Is that why she's got those bags under her eyes?"

"That's Nicky Nichols, she's a genius!" protested Piper.

"I know! Still. You don't gotta be the picture of a mad genius y'know."

"She seems like a nice person," Lorna considered.

Flaca shrugged. Most of her colleagues looked well-put together in their own ways, like that tall black woman with the gorgeous hair, the big white butch in a suit, or the small Latina with the winged liner. She had, hands on, the best makeup. The dress resembled Emma Stone's green one in "La La Land", only, in royal blue - wait did they do it in royal blue? Mh. This reminded her of her mom's former 'business'. Oh well.

"So this was how it aall started," Judy King explained. She had been the company's first sponsor, still was their main one.

"Thank you Miss King. Now can we ask for some spoilers on what you're going to perform for us in a few days?"

Judy King passed the microphone to her left, to a black girl.

"I don't know, can you?" Tasha Jefferson burst into infectious laughter. "A'right, so. It's two completely different plays you see. P, tell 'em."

From the other side of Judy King, Poussey Washington continued: "OK, so first there's this Romeo and Juliet rewriting, it's less gloomy and a lot queerer too," she beamed. "And then… Brook, you wanna go on?"

"Yes. And then a funny pastiche of comedies and characters done our way of course, with our signature mix of matters of race, class, and gender. And religion."

"Oh wow, it sounds just great! I sure won't miss them."

The suit-clad butch chimed in: "All the ladies are warmly invited!"; they cackled. Then she added as an afterthought that "Well, men can come too."

The talk went on some more, tackling a variety of subjects.

At the end there was some time for a Q&A session, and of course Piper couldn't not ask something.

As she was going on with her long-ass highbrow question on Russian fairy tales' motifs in one of their previous productions, Flaca crossed her arms. Showoff, she grumbled, while Lorna shushed her.

Reznikov was preparing to answer, and Flaca's gaze slid through the others on stage, which were mostly directed their way obviously and fixed on Piper. But she met someone's eyes: it was the Latina she had noticed before. Uh-oh, was her teardrop smudged? or did she have something on her face? She almost felt the need to check, but deflected by fixing some hair behind her ear. The other woman's lips turned up and cute dimples showed by her mouth.

"Thank you Miss Redznikov - Red, sorry," the hostess corrected. "So, next one…"

Oh. Piper looked satisfied, her question had been answered evidently; but somehow Flaca had missed the whole thing.

XXX

A little later

"Cindy would be pissed if she saw us now."

They were enjoying the buffet which followed the end of the talk. There were delicate canapés, tasty stuffed olives, fresh veggie skewers with cherry mozzarella, tomato and basil leaves, heavenly smelling prosciutto crudo on crunchy breadsticks, and more.

"She could have come too," Piper considered.

"Not her scene."

Many people had stopped to take advantage of the refreshments. They were now in front of one of counters, helping themselves to another drink.

"Oh, there's Tasha Jefferson with my tutor! I have to ask her what she meant about Voldemort being Macbeth. If you'll excuse me…"

"Sure, go. Catcha later," Flaca waved off.

"Bye!" said Lorna.

They followed Piper with their eyes, and saw how she sneaked in the conversation of the professor and the actress. Suddenly they were interrupted by someone coming between them to reach for two flutes.

"Oh, sorry."

Lorna turned; "It's alright."

"I was just trying to get some champagne for me and my lady," she nodded at the olive skinned, wavy haired woman a few feet away.

"Oh! You're from the company."

"That I am, madams;" she smirked at them.

"It's a pleasure, miss Nichols. I saw your Caliban on YouTube," said Flaca.

"Oh really, thank you."

"Miss, if you don't mind…" Lorna intervened.

"Nicky, please."

"Oh no, I can't!"

"Please, seriously."

"OOK then. Nicky. So… you are a really nice person I'm sure, and very funny and smart too," Nicky's eyebrows rose "but I was thinking…"

"Lorna -" Flaca tried to stop her.

"You see, I am kind of an expert, and I can see you have a bit of a… situation with your hair here."

"Oh shit," Flaca murmured.

"So if you need some advice, I have a few ideas!" she assured enthusiastically.

Nicky paused. "Oh, erm… well, thank you kid - Lorna. You are kind of right y'know, this bush is the bane of my existence some days."

Lorna nodded sympathetic.

Nicky handed the flute to Shani, who had finally approached them.

"So maybe you could join forces with Sophia, our hair stylist; she's almost given up on me."

"Oh no! Please! It's a beautiful color, I'm sure we can come up with something."

Flaca shook her head.

Nicky and Shani continued talking with Lorna, and brought her to the tall black woman - yes, it made sense that that would be Sophia.

"Hey sweetie. Whatcha doing here all alone?"

Flaca turned to see the big white butch.

"I love a tall fine specimen like you. Y'know I was really into tree-climbing as a kid."

Flaca continued observing her perplexed, while Boo took two glasses and made to offer her one. "Mh. Comprende? No English? Some español maybe..."

Someone else approached them; it was the tiny Latina. "Boo, can't you survive one night leaving women alone?"

"I don't know honey, you see I've never tried. Wouldn't want to risk it," she wriggled her eyebrows.

Flaca had to smile, and Boo saw her. "Ha-ha! Busted."

Maritza snatched one of the wines from Boo.

"Don't be jealous, you know you'd be my first choice if you ever said yes."

"Dream on."

"Well, then you won't mind me and this nice lady continuing to warm up to each other now…"

"I don't think this is what's happening here," she regarded Flaca, who was enjoying the scene.

"Why don't we let my signora decide," Boo started to lift a hand towards Flaca's arm, but Maritza swatted it away before it could touch her. "Hey!"

Maritza's cheeks colored, and Flaca was kinda taken aback too.

"It's… not cool Boo, you know," she defended.

"Okay, okay…" Boo squinted at her questioningly, then at Flaca. "I'll leave you to it then. It was almost a pleasure, my mysterious lady."

"Thank you. I appreciate your work Miss Black."

"Oh. She speaks! Just Boo for you, whenever you want," she half bowed, and retreated.

The small Latina gulped down her wine, and started awkwardly:

"Listen, I'm sorry if I interrupted… whatever," she gestured. "I just thought you didn't look comfortable and -"

Flaca smiled. "Thank you. I was just a bit surprised at first, but she's fun."

"Oh... Alright, listen, I can call her back if you want and -"

"No!" exclaimed Flaca. "I mean, she was fun and all, and I do like her work, but… yeah, that's about it."

Oh. Maritza nodded. "Okay."

"And you?" Flaca nudged.

Maritza looked at her again. "And me, what?"

"You're with the company, but I've seen lots of YouTube videos and I don't remember you. I know I couldn't forget your face, I mean… well," she diverted her gaze for a second.

Maritza smirked. "Well. I'm new." That made sense. "Did you like the videos?"

Flaca replied enthusiastically. "Oh yes!" and went on to explain what she loved the most about them.

"I'm glad. Y'know I'm new at acting, but I've been handling our social media for some time now," the other said slily.

"Whaat? No way!" This was awesome.

It wasn't just impeccable taste in makeup and style they had in common then, but also, evidently, a certain talent for media. The two went on talking about their passions and occupations for some time, without really noticing it passing, between their chatter and giggles. And when the night was dwindling down and their friends were ready to leave, they separated with a mutual agreement to meet again, since the company would be in town for ten days.

Scene IV

An osteria

"Why did we have to come to this dump?" Lorna lamented.

"It's not a dump!" Flaca was indignant.

"It's… picturesque," Piper commented diplomatically.

The bar stood in a minor piazza; it was small, loud, and appeared less than pristine, but boosted the clear advantage of being right in front of a cornetteria, a croissant place open all night, and not far from the university area; also, the local police rarely bothered to pass by and check for drunk and disorderly, and the residents were used to the noise. Or they must be all old and deaf.

"They do lots of events here y'know, like… live music and tertulias and shit!" Flaca added.

Oh. That was new. "Tertulias, really? You have to tell me when they do those!" Piper would not miss the opportunity for literary gatherings in such a characteristic ambience.

"OK," she nodded.

"So, I met some very nice people tonight," Lorna started.

"You did?" Piper smiled, all teeth.

"There were Nicky of course, and her fiancée Shani - the Egyptian you know," she added softly as if telling a secret. "Then this Sophia hairdresser woman from the company, and this Aleida woman who does makeup; they know their job, I'm telling you."

Flaca tuned it. "Aleida does makeup too? I thought she only acted. But then, of course she does…"

"Yes, they all have several roles right?" Lorna asked.

"Oh yes, they have decided to abolish the rigid division of labor; it's a new structure they are experimenting and -"

"New? Sound pretty Marxist to me."

"Well," Piper conceded, "Redznikov might have had a hand in this."

"So are they all commies?" Lorna frowned.

"I'm pretty sure 'Boo' Black was wearing a Canali suit so, no."

"Flaca. Who was that girl you spent all the time with?"

"Who? Oh, Maritza." Flaca blushed a bit. "She does their social media, and some makeup too, and has started acting."

"Ah-ah," Lorna was considering her with suspicious interest. Flaca felt her face growing warmer by the second.

"Mh." Piper intervened. "Well I had an enlightening conversation with Jefferson and Abdullah. Then Soso, the Scottish-Japanese girl, joined in; she does talk a lot though," she considered.

"She does, doesn't she," Flaca exchanged a glance with Lorna.

"Oh look, there's Cindy!" exclaimed Lorna, seeing their friend come back from the restroom.

"I knew she'd be here."

"Hey girls! Come to our table!" she called them to join her and her friends in a corner.

"I'll order for us," Piper offered.

"Thank you!"

She looked around; it was quite late, but things seemed to be in full motion here, and luckily it wasn't all just younger university kids. The bartender finally turned her way, and she asked for some reds.

"Hey," a raspy voice came from her left. She turned to find a black-haired woman with enticing glasses leaning against the counter. "I just happened to hear. Are you American?" she asked.

"Hello," she found herself smiling in an uncharacteristic shy way. "Yes; was my accent that bad?"

The other woman laughed. What a low, rich sound. "No, sorry. And you can still speak Italian at least!"

"Well, just a little," Piper admitted.

A man approached, and grabbed one of the glasses that had been deposited near them, without Piper even noticing.

"Fahri…"

"It's OK," he tried the wine. "I'm going out for a phone call, you enjoy yourself here," he winked and threw a sideway glance at Piper, before going back out the door.

"Sorry, you were with someone…" Piper started.

"I was the one to chat you up," tall dark and beautiful said with a chuckle. Beautiful? Well, she was, objectively speaking. Look at those lips sipping the red. Fu..dge, she was supposed to bring it back to her friends; well they could just move and get their own drinks for once.

"So is he your -" she started.

"Partner," the other woman offered.

"- Oh. Right," Piper nodded. "Partner, as in…"

"Business partner," she smirked.

"Business partner! Wonderful! I mean it must be nice to work with someone you get along with, it is patent you two get along; or – of course it's just an assumption but-"

"I'm Alex," she cut her off with a touch to her wrist on the counter. "What's your name?"

"Piper," she lit up stupidly, as if in a trance.

"Hey, where's our…oh, you finished it off," Flaca eyed the empty glasses, opened her mouth to protest, but stopped when she had a better look at them. "Ookay y'know, no probs," she patted the blonde's shoulder and motioned to the bartender to order. "Una bottiglia di Custoza per favore. We're there if you need us!"

And she left for the table, the guy soon following with bottle and glasses.

Alex turned to her interrogatively. "She's your friend?"

"Yes, almost a colleague too actually," Piper specified, still not sure why Flaca had left her off the hook so easily. She saw her say something to Lorna, then the latter looked her way and waved, to which she answered in kind.

"Really," Alex's incredible vocal cords brought her back.

"Yeah. And what is this business of yours?" she enquired.

"I used to work for an international drug cartel, but we've transitioned to being a hundred percent law-abiding citizens. We own a series of legal light organic cannabis stores."

Piper gaped.

Alex's eyes crinkled. She cracked up.

"Ah-" after a couple of dumbfounded seconds, Piper joined her.

Who was this woman?

She had no idea, but she hadn't felt this captivated in… forever.

Fahri peeked inside. Alex was still engrossed in conversation with that blondie; he squinted - had not heard her laugh that much in ages. He considered for a moment; oh well, with the fun they were having they could afford paying his drink too. Then he sent her a quick text, knowing full well she wouldn't hear it with the noise around her and how taken she looked; she'd find it later, when she'd finally remember he existed.

Fahri: Going back to the hotel. Enjoy your night Al.

He smirked, left the glass on the nearest table, and went out.

Fahri: Oh. And put that rack to good use, someone's looking appreciative.