Bad Romeo

Chapter One

"O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell

When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend

In moral paradise of such sweet flesh?

Was ever book containing such vile matter

So fairly bound?"

- Juliet describing Romeo

Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare

***

Present Day

New York City

The Graumann Theater

First Day of Rehearsal

I rush down the crowded sidewalk, and a nervous sweat has broken out in all my most unglamorous places.

I hear my mother's voice inside my head - "A lady doesn't sweat, Cassie. She glows."

In that case, Mom, I'm glowing like a pig.

Anyway, I never claimed to be a lady.

I tell myself I'm “glowing” because I'm running late. Not because of him.

Tristan, my roommate/life-coach, is convinced I've never gotten over him, but that's crap.

I'm so over him.

I've been over him for a long time.

I scurry across the road, dodging the unstoppable New York traffic. Several cab drivers curse me out in various languages. I merrily wave my middle finger, because I'm pretty sure flipping the bird means "fuck you" all over the world.

I glance at my watch as I enter the theater and head to the rehearsal room.

Dammit.

Five minutes late.

I can almost see the look of amusement on his bastard face, and I'm horrified that before I've even set foot in the room, I have an overwhelming urge to slap him.

I pause outside the door.

I can do this. I can see him and not fall apart.

I can.

I sigh and press my forehead against the wall.

Who the hell am I kidding?

Yeah, sure, I can do a passionate play with my ex-lover who broke my heart not once, but twice. No problem.

I bang my head against the wall.

If there were a Nation of Stupid People, I would be their Queen.

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.

When my agent had called with news of my big Broadway break, I should have known there'd be strings attached. She raved to me about the male actor who'd also been cast. Ethan Holt - the current "It Boy" of the theater world. So talented. Award-winner. Adored by screaming fans. Handsome as hell.

Of course she didn't know about our history. Why would she? I never talk about him. In fact, I walk away when other people mention his name. It was easier to cope when he was on the other side of the world, but now he's back and tainting my dream job with his presence.

Typical.

Bastard.

Finding my game face isn't going to be easy, but I have to.