Juliet’s Survival - CHAPTER 2 - Part 3
CHAPTER 2 (Part 3)
William and Romeo, now shoulder-to-shoulder, headed towards the pub. Their recent growls toward each other felt like a lie. William cast a lingering glance at me, a hint of regret in his eyes, but eventually followed Romeo. I was left alone in the art museum, feeling like a fox enchanted by something.
Walking home alone, I pondered on how the situation had unfolded. William and Romeo both looked at “Friendship” simultaneously. In that moment, the Masterpiece was triggered, and the two of them became inseparable friends. Or at least that’s what they thought of each other.
In my mind, I mapped out the relationships: Tybalt and I are cousins; Romeo and Mercutio are friends; and I am the one Romeo loves. So far, it matched the original story.
Me not liking Romeo, William liking me, and the unexpected friendship between William and Romeo. It was truly a mess. However, the moment William intervened, any trace of the original plot disappeared.
No, it was a good sign for me that it was going differently. Going along with the original story would only lead to a tragic ending. The fact that there was a change meant that there was a chance for the outcome to be different. I calculated how the altered relationship between William and Romeo might affect the story.
It wasn’t bad. It seemed like William was trying to give consistency to the personalities of the characters in his play based on real-life inspiration. If he became aware of our real-world existence and discovered differences from the original, there was a high probability that his stories would diverge from the original plot.
It would be nice if he took this opportunity to get closer to Romeo, or even to Romeo’s friends like Mercutio, or to the entire Montague family.
All that aside, not many people would want to write a tragedy about their best friend, so maybe I don’t need to try so hard to woo William.
My steps became noticeably lighter. Although the initial plan of the ‘Hoping for a Friendship between Tybalt and Mercutio’ operation had failed, an unexpected gain had surfaced. Dreaming of a brighter future, I arrived at the mansion.
* * *
It was a miscalculation. I had to correct my thinking within a day.
“Miss Capulet, as you know, Romeo likes you. I can’t be alone with a girl my friend likes.”
William rejected me at the door of the Shakespeare Mansion, where I had come. His manner of addressing me had also reverted to ‘Miss Capulet’. I looked at William’s face. Looking at his expression, I couldn’t understand the situation even more.
He had a forlorn look on his face, as if he had been the one rejected, not rejecting. I stood awkwardly in front of the door, unable to comprehend the situation.
“I’m sorry, Miss Capulet.”
He closed the mansion door. He didn’t take his eyes off me until the door was fully closed. No matter how I looked at it, he still liked me.
‘Romeo likes you’. I pondered William’s words. So, William was trying to keep his distance from me because of Romeo. Things were unfolding in a direction I hadn’t even considered.
I thought that if William and Romeo got closer due to the effects of the Masterpiece, things might turn in my favor. But if William could only get close to either Romeo or me, it had to be me.
It was only natural. Romeo didn’t even know that they were under the influence of the masterpiece, and he had no idea what kind of ending awaited him if things were left as they were. Leaving William to Romeo was like stepping back and watching him die without lifting a finger.
I had to visit William again tomorrow. The reason he decided to keep his distance from me was that he chose friendship over love. In simple terms, I had been pushed aside by Romeo. If the affection he had for me was not enough that I can just be pushed aside by someone like Romeo, he would never give up his writing for me.
Given the situation, there was only one answer. Until now, William had grown fond of me all by himself, just by looking at my face. But now that wasn’t enough. I have to make him fall more deeply for me, enough to choose me over the love and friendship dilemma.
First I would need to defeat Romeo, and then I would make him like me enough to give up his writing on ‘Romeo and Juliet’. My survival was at stake.
“Romeo is at my house now.”
When I visited the Shakespeare mansion, I faced rejection once again.
“Is it so difficult for you to spare a moment, William?”
“Please call me Mr. Shakespeare.”
Despite calling his name in a sweet voice, William’s guard was stronger than I had anticipated.
“Was allowing me to use your first name just a fleeting whim?”
I asked with a mournful expression. It would have been nice if at least one tear rolled down, but that was too much to hope for.
“It’s not like that…!”
Shakespeare stammered, flustered. But soon regained composure and opened his mouth again.
“Anyway, I’d like you to call me Shakespeare, I’d prefer it that way. I’ll go in now.”
“Just a moment.”
I grabbed his hand as he turned to leave. Thud, he brushed my hand away. His face turned pale. His exaggerated reaction made me feel like I had committed a grave offense.
“I apologize. But I can’t hold hands with a woman my friend likes.”
It was an excuse, an exaggerated reaction to cover his own oversensitivity. His fidgeting was evidence of that fact. To openly show off affection while claiming that a friend is more precious. Was that his original thought, or was this also the power of magic?
I decided to play my trump card at this point.
“Is Romeo more important to you than I am?”
His bewildered eyes, swaying as if shaken, stopped moving. Gradually, moisture began to fill his blue eyes.
“Why are you asking such a thing?”
He was now shedding tears like chicken droppings. This time, it was my turn to be taken aback. I remained frozen, unable to utter a word.
“I’m going to go in now.”
He lowered his head as if to hide his tears. But his teary-eyed appearance was already etched into my eyes. I didn’t even bother to stop him as he went inside. My mouth twitched to say something. But then the door to the mansion slammed shut.
The more I thought about it, the more baffled I became. Why was he crying? What did I do wrong? Even as I climbed the stairs of our mansion, my mind was filled with thoughts of William.
The way his delicately sculpted face contorted in pain. The tears brimming in his blue eyes. His attempts to hide the falling tears. His every action triggered an inexplicable feeling of guilt. I felt like I had done something very bad.
“Juliet, you’re back just in time.”
My mother called out urgently as I was about to enter my room. I turned back with a puzzled expression. She carefully examined my attire and nodded approvingly.
“It’s good that you can go out like this. No need to get ready.”
“Where are you going?”
“I heard there’s a new Masterpiece unveiled at the auction house. We need to go quickly.”
I tried my best to hide my disappointment.
My mother was a respected collector of Masterpieces, and our house was renowned for having a significant number of masterpieces that could fill a ballroom.
And it was my job to assist her in her mad dash whenever she heard a rumor of a Masterpiece’s appearance. Assisting, in this case, wasn’t really my job.
As unreasonable as it may seem, a married woman wandering the streets alone could create bad rumors, so my job was to follow her wherever she went and stay by her side.
I never had much interest in Masterpieces to begin with, but by now I was sick of them, to death. However, I had to go to the auction to acquire the Masterpiece. I followed my mother in dissatisfaction.