Why Romeo Hates Juliet (2 page)

Juliet was in the water again and she couldn’t breathe. Oh God, she was going to die! She gasped for air, but instead, water rushed into her lungs as her arms and legs flailed wildly at the bottom of the lake. She was trapped. ‘Oh God, help me!’

With a start, 27 year old Juliet woke up from her dream and found herself slumped over her desk. “Ohhhh,” she moaned, as she came upright and massaged her sore neck. Using her laptop as a pillow hadn’t been one of her best ideas and in fact, that had been the third time this week she’d done that. But she needed to get this book written and sent off to her publisher. Her deadline was looming.

Juliet put her hand to her forehead and wiped off the beads of perspiration, the last remnants of her dream. But why was she having that dream again? She’d gotten over that long ago.

Lifting her eyes to the computer screen, she stared at the open document file which read ‘Page 47’. Oh, heaven help her! How was she ever going to finish writing a 500 page novel in a couple of months when she was still only on page 47?

The problem was that she was blocked - writer’s block, to be more precise - and she hadn’t been able to write one single new word in the past few months. She wanted to write, was desperate to write, and had forced herself to sit at the computer all day everyday, but nothing had come to her - no new words, no new ideas, nothing. It was as if there was a concrete wall between her fingers and her keyboard and she just couldn’t smash through, no matter how hard she tried.

Sighing in frustration, Juliet stood up and walked to the living room of her one bedroom apartment, passing by the hall mirror. She stopped and stared at her reflection in the glass. Oh God, when did she get those dark circles under her eyes and why was her skin so pale? She looked almost sickly.

With her large brown eyes, full lips and perfectly straight nose all packed into a slim, 5’8” lean body, Juliet had been told many times that she could have been a model if she’d wanted to. But she doubted she would have gotten those compliments today. Her shoulder-length dark brown hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail and the extra large t-shirt and track pants she had on made her look frumpy and boyish. No, she didn’t think Vogue would be calling her anytime soon.

Out of the corner of her eye, Juliet noticed that the message light on her answering machine was blinking. Taking a deep, protective breath, she pushed the play button, instinctively knowing who had called her.

“Juliet, this is Lisa. Listen, I spoke to your publisher and they aren’t budging on the deadline. They’re insisting you deliver them your book by September 15th,” her literary agent’s voice stated bluntly. “If you can’t, then you’re going to have to give them back their advance. I’m sorry but they’re adamant about this. Give me a call. We’ll talk.”

“I am so screwed,” Juliet sighed, as she put her head in her hands. The fact of the matter was that she’d already spent the $100,000 her publisher had given her to write her second novel and if they wanted their money back, then she’d have to declare bankruptcy because right now, she was dead broke!

The answering machine beeped as it moved on to the second message. “Juliet, this is your sister, your ONLY sister? Remember me? I’m the one who loves you. Yet you never seem to crawl out of that apartment jail cell of yours to come and visit me anymore,” a younger but angry female voice ranted. “I swear if you don’t agree to have lunch with me today, then I’m going to camp outside your front door until you let me in. I want to know what the hell is going on with you. You’d better call me back, missy - got it?” The machine clicked off.

Juliet sighed again. She’d have to see Sara today; she just couldn’t put it off any longer. But if she did, then her little sister would pry and poke and prod until Juliet had spilled the beans about her troubles. But how could she tell Sara that her strong and capable older sister was broke and soon to be unemployed because her career as a big-hit, first-time novelist was now in the toilet, soon to be flushed away into the sewer system of broken dreams.

~ ~ ~

The dark, cavern-like interior of the Brothers Grimm Nightclub was alive with wild dancers and party-goers. Even though it had only opened six months earlier, the hip Los Angeles, California hangout had already become the ‘in’ hotspot to be seen at. Everyone from celebrities to wannabes sandwiched themselves inside the club nightly and were transported to sin by the throbbing dance music.

Twenty-eight year old, action movie star, Romeo Boyd, entered the club with a bleached-blonde, Holl ywood bimbo on each arm and an entourage of male friends trailing behind him. This was his domain; the dark, seedy ll.A. nightlife and he reigned over it like a king.

Being in-between movie jobs, he had been partying non-stop for the past three months. He was dressed in a ripped white t-shirt, jeans and a plaid, lumberjack jacket; and with his long, scraggly, dark hair and full beard covering his superstar good looks, he was totally unrecognizable as the former A-list movie star whose films had grossed billions for the Holl ywood studios since he’d started acting more than 13 years ago when he was a wild, young pup.

As he strutted into the club, some of the party-goers swarmed around him and welcomed him like a supreme monarch. Suddenly, the music was turned off and amidst sounds of moans and groans, everyone turned their eyes to the DJ booth.

The young, male DJ took to the microphone and announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention please. Romeo Boyd is in the house!” The room erupted into cheers and Romeo acknowledged his subjects with a wave. The DJ continued, yelling over the noise, “Romeo, please give us a few words of your wisdom.”

The crowd continued to go wild as Romeo gave them his pearly white, sexy signature smile. He climbed onto the DJ booth, grabbed the microphone and instructed everyone to ‘shut the fuck up’ before royally pronouncing, “We’re here for a good time, not a long time - so LET’S

PARTY!”

The club patrons erupted into wild cheers and the DJ started the music up again. Romeo headed to the bar and automatically received his first Jack Daniels whiskey shot, the first of many that he intended on consuming that night.

* * *

“You look like shit!” Knox Williams shouted at full decibel.

“Ohhhh,” Romeo moaned, as his hands flew to his head. “For God’s sake, Knox, don’t shout. I’ve got a killer headache today.” Knox appraised his client’s rough, debauched condition as Romeo lay sprawled on his office couch with both eyes closed. He shook his head in disbelief. The top notch Holl ywood agent couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. The great Romeo Boyd, voted the Sexiest Man Alive only five years ago, now looked liked a bum. He was wearing a dirty t-shirt under a rumpled grey jacket and pants that looked like they had come out of a Goodwil donation bin, and on his feet were the dirtiest, scruffiest, oldest pair of boots that he’d ever seen in his life. They looked like they’d been fished out of a garbage landfill.

Knox angrily crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Look at you. With that beard and stringy hair, I wouldn’t even recognize you if I saw you on the street and I’ve known you for ten years. You party way too much, drink more than a human body can stand and you probably have every sexually-transmitted disease known to man.”

Romeo squinted one eye open and gave a short laugh. “You haven’t been reading Gossip World again, have you Knox? You know it’s all lies.” He closed his eye again.

“Oh,really?” Knox reached over to his desk and grabbed the latest issue of the celebrity gossip magazine. “Let’s see… which story is a lie? Is it the one about you being thrown into a coffee table during one of your drunken fights? Or is it the one about your ex, Tamara trying to sell a sex tape with you in the starring role? Or wait…” He quickly flipped through the weekly rag. “Here’s one. Here’s a picture of you with a smoke between your lips, a drink in your hand and two bouncers holding you upright outside a club because you’re too wasted to stand on your own two feet.” Romeo smirked again and pried open both of his bloodshot eyes this time. “Okay, so maybe this week’s issue is accurate, but last week, where they said I was dating Jennifer Parker? I’ve never even met the woman.”

Frustrated, Knox rolled up the magazine and threw it back on his desk. “Yeah, this is all one big joke to you, isn’t it? Well, let me tell you something Romeo, and I’m telling you this because I care about you. Word around town is that you’re finished in this business. Your stock’s gone down in Holl ywood.”

Romeo focused his hungover gaze on his agent’s stern countenance. “Calm down, things aren’t that bad.”

“Not that bad? Your last four movies were flops, and in this business, that means you’re on your way out. I can’t even get scripts sent to me for you to read anymore. They’re all saying that you’re box office poison. Five years ago, you had everything and with your constant partying and bad press, you blew it.” He paused as he gave his client a long look. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but… you’re really finished.” Romeo slowly staggered up off the couch and headed for the door. None of this was news to him and he had stopped caring a long time ago.

Knox watched his retreating back. “What are you going to do now?”

Turning, Romeo plopped his black sunglasses onto his face and gave his agent a dazzling, movie star smile. “I’m going to have a pool party, what else?”

~ ~ ~

“You look like shit!”

Sitting outside in the June sunshine, opposite Juliet at the small bistro table of Pasta Plenty, a neighborhood eatery in downtown Vancouver, British Columbia, 25 year old Sara Crawford meticulously studied her sister’s face like a plastic surgeon examining a patient before giving an estimate on work to be done.

Two years younger, Sara looked the complete opposite of Juliet. Her hair was also dark brown, but styled in a trendy, boyish bob. Her eyes were blue, her physique was plump and at 5’ nothing, she looked very short when standing next to her tall sister. They always joked that she was the runt of the litter, but she knew that she took after their mom’s side of the family while Juliet was more like their dad’s.

“No seriously, you look awful,” Sara reiterated.

Juliet frowned. “Thanks, little sis. You know just what to say to make me feel better.”

“Your skin is pale, you’ve got dark circles under your eyes and you’ve ignored me for weeks. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Juliet fibbed, as she took in her sister’s disbelieving face. “Honest.”

“Is it your book? I know you’re working against a deadline.”

“Sara, I’m fine, really.”

“It’s your book, I knew it,” Sara deduced. “You never take time off to have fun anymore. When was the last time you had a date?”

“Christmas,” Juliet defiantly replied.

“OMG! That was 6 months ago when I set you up with Rob’s cousin, Trace, and you’ve been doing nothing since then except work. That’s not healthy, Juliet.”

“Butt out, Sara,” Juliet retorted angrily. “You know how busy I got when my first novel hit the New York Times Bestsel ers List last year, and then this year I’ve been busy working on my second one. You don’t write a book by going to parties and dating geeky cousins of my brother-in-law.”

“Trace may have been geeky, but he liked you. He wanted to see you again; he told me so.”

“What he liked were my feet. He had a foot fetish, Sara.”

“Of course he has a foot fetish; he’s a podiatrist.”

Juliet rolled her eyes before angrily stabbing back into her ziti pasta with her fork. “There’s no talking to you,” she vented.

“And there’s no talking to you either,” Sara snapped back, as she reached for her wine glass. She studied Juliet’s pinched face again as she took a sip. “Seriously - what’s wrong?” she asked in a softer tone.

Her little sister’s soft voice was Juliet’s undoing. Suddenly, a hot tear rolled down her cheek, followed by another - and then another. Her vision blurred and she choked back a sob.

Sara was stunned. Juliet never cried. She was the strong one, always had been. After all, she was the big sister who could solve all problems, no matter what they were. How many times had she, herself, gone to Juliet for help and she’d taken care of everything?

Sara’s stomach clenched tight with fear. Rushing out of her chair, she moved to her sister’s side and bent down to give her a hug. “My God, Juliet, what’s wrong?” Her big sister shook her head, unable to speak and she brushed away the wetness on her cheeks with trembling hands.

Sara’s heart began leaping wildly out of her chest. “Talk to me. Are you sick? Is it your health?” Juliet shook her head. “I’m - I’m okay. It’s not that,” she managed to choke out.

“Then what? You’re scaring me.”

Juliet swallowed hard and regained control of her emotions, willing her tears to stop. She took in her little sister’s frightened expression. “I didn’t want to say anything because - because it’s too humiliating, but I’m broke, Sara.” The word ‘broke’ was said in a whimper.

Sara’s eyes grew wide with shock. “But - but I don’t understand?”

Juliet blew her nose on her paper napkin. “If I don’t deliver a completed novel to my publisher by September, I’m going to have to give them back their $100,000 advance, but I don’t have the money because I’ve already spent it all on paying back taxes and credit card debts that I had from writing my first book. It’s all gone, everything’s gone, and so I’m going to have to declare bankruptcy. And when I do that, I’ll lose my book deal and my writing career will be over. I’ll be finished as a writer.” The words spilled out of her like a raging river flooding its banks, but now that she’d finally said them out loud, she felt relieved.

“But, but - your first book was a big hit and you made money and - and…”

“My first book contract was a lousy deal and I didn’t make very much and I had bills to pay from my starving artist days. All that money went a long time ago.”

“But you’re writing your second book and then you won’t have to give them the money back, right?” Sara was stunned. She’d expected Juliet’s troubles to be a case of working too hard and maybe needing a boyfriend and having some fun. She’d never imagined her problems were so serious.

Juliet took in her little sister’s bewildered face and sighed. “I’m blocked, Sara. I haven’t been able to write anything for months and if I don’t give them a 500 page novel by the middle of September, I’m screwed.” Her eyes suddenly widened with fear, and her voice became small and frightened. “What if - if…”

“What if what, sweetie?”

“What if I’m just a one-hit wonder? Maybe that’s all I have in me - one bestseller - and that’s it. Maybe I’m not good enough to be a writer anymore and maybe…”

“Stop it! Stop this thinking right now, Juliet, you hear me?” Sara hugged her sister tighter. “You’re an amazing writer - the best - and it wasn’t a fluke that your first book was a hit. You are so talented. And you did it once, and you can do it again; I know you can.” Juliet nervously bit her bottom lip as she let her sister’s words of encouragement wash over her. “You think?”

“I don’t think. I know! And as soon as I get home today, I’m talking to Rob and we’ll lend you what money we’ve got. I’ll help you, I promise.” Juliet hugged Sara lovingly before releasing her and stared into her sweet, concerned eyes. “Sara, Rob’s still in residency at the hospital and you guys don’t have that much money yourselves right now. I thank you for the offer, but this is something I have to figure out on my own, okay?” Her mouth curved into a small smile. “Besides, you know how resourceful I am. I’m a fighter and very stubborn. I’ll pull through somehow.” Sara grinned. “Oh, I know all about your stubbornness. Nana always said when you put your mind to something, only God could stop you.”

“I remember,” Juliet chuckled, as her thoughts lovingly raced back to their feisty grandmother who had died a few years back.

Nana, as she was affectionately called by the girls, was their mother’s mother and had taken the three of them in when their dad had divorced their mom and stopped paying alimony and child support. Their father had distanced himself from all of them and as the years went by, had focused more and more on his new family in Toronto. Juliet’s mom had had to get two jobs to support all of them and because she’d been working all the time, Nana had raised them. Their mom had died only last year of breast cancer, a bitter shell of her former self, and had never forgiven her ex-husband for abandoning them. Juliet’s thoughts came back to the present as she suddenly saw her sister’s face light up with excitement.

“Wait - I know how to help you!” Sara beamed. “Rob’s parents, they own a beach house on Prince Edward Island, right on the ocean and maybe you can’t write because you’re always stuck in that gloomy, small apartment of yours. Why don’t we go there, me and you, and spend the summer? I promise I’ll be very quiet and leave you alone so you can write in peace and maybe the change of scenery will do you some good - you know, give you new ideas for your book? What do you say?”

Juliet was at a loss for words, “I don’t know, Sara. Won’t his parents mind? And Rob? Technically you’re still newlyweds and he might not want you to be so far away from him for so long.”

“His parents are in Europe and the beach house is empty. They offered it to me and Rob but he can’t get away from the hospital, and I deserve a vacation anyway. Having to deal with a class of ten year-olds all year long is exhausting work, you know. So what do you say?” Sara stared at her sister, holding her breath waiting for her response.

Juliet stared back at her little sister’s expectant face. Was this really a solution to her problems, she wondered? Was a change of scenery really all that she needed to finish her book and meet her deadline? And she would love to visit beautiful Prince Edward Island, a tiny island province on the east coast of Canada, and relax in a quiet, beautiful beach house with the sounds of nature all around her. Man - it sounded like heaven on earth! Of course, she’d stay away from the ocean since she still couldn’t swim, but it would be nice to wake up to the sounds of the waves lapping at beach sand, wouldn’t it?

Sara started fidgeting beside her. “Well? What do you say?”

Juliet frowned. “I shouldn’t be spending what little money I have left on a plane ticket but…” she smiled wide, “I say - yes, a big yes!” Ecstatic, Sara gave her sister a bear hug. “You’ll see, Juliet. This is the best thing for you. And you’ll have peace and quiet and you’ll be able to write again and all your problems will be solved.”

~ ~ ~