Ro (A Cyberpunk Retelling of Romeo and Juliet)

4

RO MONTAGUE

We stand there in Mr. Rosaline's nightclub, and as I look over the floating screens with dancers adorned in glitter, the silver lines harsh against the neon backdrop of New Verona, a wave of curiosity washes over me. I watch the holo-screens, the beckoning hands, the digital recreations so life-like, so enticing. Coos of the women, the men, and everyone who fell in-between. I watch the swaying hips, the tug of hair, and the biting of lips.

Holo screens make it easy. They take the guilt element away. You know what you're doing without realizing it, if that makes any sense. A couple taps on the screen and the dancers are imported right to your Eye-Lens. It takes away that element of reality, but you both feel everything thanks to the Eye-Lens.

The Eye-Lens. The Montagues might own all the illegal bio-tech: the weapons, the torture devices, and the drugs, but the Eye-Lens was wholly legal. It saw everything, to manipulate reality so it was realer than real. Crime families like Caps and Montys pay extra so we get wiped from the government databases. We don't exist when it comes to government banks, licenses, or transactions. We weren't citizens, just a line of nonsensical code and data that couldn't be traced. Inhuman, until you saw us in-person. And nobody wanted to.

But we can still have a fun time with the virtual reality and extra-sensory settings.

"Hey, Mercy."

She's getting into the whiskey-and-cream from the back. "Yeah?"

We'd already loaded Rosaiah into a transport craft, and now Mercy was just waiting until I decided. I was the new head of the Montagues, after all. I should've figured out our grand plan, but I had nothing but a sense of emptiness. And a dangerous dollop of self-pity.

"Ross said I was just some silly virgin." I watch the dancing figures, hypnotized by their lithe movements. "Maybe I shouldn't be one anymore."

Mercy sighs, fighting an eye-roll. After downing another shot, she makes her way over to me. In a voice that's still unmistakably sober, strange how her alcohol tolerance is so high, "are you doing this for him or you?"

I look at my boots, the red at my trouser hems. "I don't know anymore."

She slings her arm around my shoulders. "What they call you doesn't matter." She pours two more vials and hands me one. "You're queen of New Verona. You can do whatever you damn well please."

I take the drink from her and place my lips where hers were. It tastes exactly like one might think whiskey and cream would taste. Thin and acidic with an aftertaste like sour milk. "I want to take the fight to the Capulets. They tried to buy me." My hand shakes, the shot glass digs into my palm. "I want to hurt one of theirs."

Mercy tries and soothe me by placing her hand on my arm, but I tear away. Still upset, and now disoriented from this horrible drink, I throw it against the wall. I watch it drip through the holo-screen, the glass shards. The vile liquid.

"Ro..." Mercy breathes. "How's about we step outside?"

Swallowing me anger, I nod, and I let her lead me to the alleyway. There, we see the stars. I wonder if they see us back.