CHAPTER ONE
on joining the circus
˚✧₊⁎
When Juliette wakes from her dreamless sleep due to her phone ringing at an ungodly early hour, she considers swiping it off her nightstand and letting it clatter onto the floor. With the majority of the room still bathed in darkness, the slightest slither of early morning sun cut through her drawn curtains and the thought was taken into consideration the longer she let it ring. It's what she would've done if she was back in London with a telephone that could survive a little tumble, but she lays upon her childhood bed sparing the old wired phone just this once.
She lets out a groan that muffles into the cotton lining of her pillow as she reaches over—she really should answer, but sleep just seemed so much better. Her hand slaps the handle, gripping it loosely before tugging it towards her. The cold plastic against her ear sent shivers down her spine.
"Oui?"
"Goooooood morning, mademoiselle!" It was a mistake answering the phone. Juliette realises it too late.
She would have rolled her eyes if it weren't for the fatigue still weighing down her eyelids as a familiar English accent cuts through the line, far too loud and energetic for Juliette's taste.
"Good morning, Dean." Juliette spoke in English, though in a slight murmur. She sounded like a Londoner for the most part aside from a few idiosyncrasies in the way she said certain syllables. People she has met during her time in the city take quite a liking to it, though her friends take mild annoyance in the way she would meticulously correct their accents in words like croissant and aubergine. It was, of course, all in goodwill. Juliette likes a good tease anyway.
Managing to blink her eyes open through blurry vision, she manages to scan the thin arms of her alarm clock—6 in the morning. At least it was here in St Jean d'Angely, in London on the other hand... they were an hour behind. "What could you be possibly calling about at this hour?"
"Well for one, we both start school today–"
Dean is cut off by another voice on the line, "–and how could we possibly not check in with our beloved Juliette?"
"Hi Laurie," she muses.
"Hi Juli. Forgot to mention I was on the other line—kind of waking myself up too."
"It's quite alright. And I'm doing fine if you're all wondering as the last time you two checked up on me was—" she pauses and pretends to ponder, "less than twenty-four hours ago."
She was a lot more awake now with the sleep she received from the evening prior finally giving her the energy to at least sit up upon her bed. She hopes it's enough to get her through the day.
She knows she will need it.
"I hope we didn't wake you up too early," Dean says, "I know you can be a bit grouchy in the morning."
"I did consider throwing this phone off my nightstand and possibly out the window, but I mustered up some self-control." Juliette jokes coolly as her fingers comb through the ends of her hair. Her adorable cat, Bonbon, mews gently as she jumps onto her bed and curls into her lap.
"Amazing." Dean mutters.
"You're a changed woman," says Laurie.
"I know, proud of me?"
"Absolutely," they said that in unison this time.
It makes Juliette smile, the feeling of something missing from her ran strong through her heavy beating heart. Her best friends in this case. She swears she could feel Dean and Laurie's vice-like hug around her the day she left still imprinted onto her skin.
"Are you not nervous about your first day?" Laurie asks.
A sigh escapes her lips, "It's hard to tell, honestly. When our school became mixed gender three years ago, the ratio of girls and boys were pretty even, but over here I heard there is only twelve of us."
"Twelve?" Dean exclaims, "out of what? A couple hundred boys?"
"Something like that..."
The answer in and of itself was pretty self-explanatory. She was comparing a large city school to a smaller one in the countryside. Wherein a large metropolitan area where classroom sizes of near forty students is a considerable amount of bodies where over here it was unheard of. Was the reaction of girls entering her old school a bit overbearing and difficult? Yes, change was always the most difficult to get used to, but it was certainly better getting used to female counterparts in larger numbers than a meek dozen.
They always say that there's safety in numbers.
"I pray for your sanity, Juliette. Maybe you can befriend a few girls and just stick with them the rest of the school year," Laurie suggests.
"That's the plan. I am trying to keep a low profile this year." Juliette mutters with a hint of melancholy coating her words. Despite the slight difference in her tone, her feelings were clear as day to her friends.
"I'm sorry you had to drop your acceptance at the grammar school," says Drew, "I know how much it meant to you considering the program could have gotten you into Oxford once you graduate."
Juliette had gotten into St Paul's Grammar School with the same reason Lycée Voltaire decided to accept girls into their school—a more progressive and liberal means of diversifying and expanding their resources for the youth, which in turn for the betterment of the country. And yet, her parents did not seem to hesitate to pull her out of the program in the means of her being a girl.
Her education wasn't nearly as important enough apparently. With her two parents currently in well-paying careers and Marc already on track to graduate come spring, the youngest Bellemare was the easiest option to ship back to the countryside of France with nothing to risk besides an even lower chance of getting into her dream school. Do not get her wrong, though, Juliette would have done anything for her grandparents, but all decisions that has been done up to this point was at the expense of her life.
Being a woman meant you had to work ten times harder in order to meet anything close to any male counterpart. And Juliette would do everything in her power to change that.
"It's not all too terrible," she painfully defends, "Voltaire High is known to have a good curriculum and if I manage to stay on top of it until I graduate, I still have a chance at getting into Oxford. Who knows, maybe they will accept me as a legacy knowing Marc will inevitably get in."
Juliette hides her disappointment well with a bitter laugh and it's silent on the other end of the line.
Perhaps it wasn't as well hidden as she thought.
Before Dean or Laurie could spare another word in their attempt to comfort Juliette, she clears her throat swiftly and utters, "Well, I should probably get ready for school. I'll call later, bye!"
The phone clatters onto the holder with a ding and startles Bonbon out of her lap and back into her warm bed by her window. Juliette sighs, face falling into her hands as she convinces herself, a measure of psyching herself up to what an utter mess today was going to be. She tries to remain hopeful, but she had a feeling she was in for a wild ride.
When Juliette leaves her room with her hair pin-straight, a light layer of makeup on her face, and her scuffed Mary Jane's on her feet, she tiptoes into the kitchenette of her grandparent's old townhome. She sets her school bag upon one of the chairs along with her copy of The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka down with it. Her mouth waters as she eyes the pile of fresh pain au chocolat still steaming atop the dining table.
As she reaches to grab one of the pastries, she nearly jumps out of her skin when her grandfather enters the room with a greeting, "Good morning, Juli," he's cheery and happy to see his granddaughter all over again.
She pecks a light kiss upon his cheek, "Good morning, papi. How did you sleep?"
"Very well," he says, reaching for one as well, "It was quite slow the rest of the evening at the shop so I closed down quickly. What are you reading now?"
Juliette reaches for her novel and waves it in front of her grandfather, Éugene. With its frayed edges, coffee-stained pages and cracked spine, her copy of The Metamorphosis is dearly loved and certainly shows the amount of times she's read it.
"Kafka, again?" Éugene muses with a click of his tongue, "You and that author–what's so special about him, anyway?"
"Well, for one, he's quite relatable."
"You've woken up as a cockroach before?"
Juliette playfully slaps her grandfather on his shoulder, rolling her eyes at his teases. "You know what I meant. If you think this book has been read to death, then clearly you haven't seen my copy of Kafka's diaries and—oh!" (she suddenly remembered another title of hers), "Dostoyevsky's White Night as well."
"Nice to know you're still an avid reader, cherie." He says it was a smile and an adoration that warms Juliette.
Éugene Bellemare and his small, homey bookstore was the reason she was as obsessed with books as she is now. The idea that humans held such a power to write a specific order of words on paper and therefore creating a prose that can generate entire films in one's mind was incredible. Words powerful enough to shape cultures and influence populations, books, in her humblest opinion, was the future. Juliette would love to be a writer if she wasn't completely rubbish, which is why she would much rather study literature for the rest of her life instead.
"It's all thanks to you, of course." She says, shifting her gaze around, "Where is mamie?"
"In the living room watching her morning news, of course," perhaps he noticed the hungry look in Juliette's eyes in the midst of her ramble and chuckles, motioning her towards the pastries, "take as many as you'd like, cherie. I'll pour you some juice as well after you greet her."
"Thank you," says Juliette as her feet take her through the hall by muscle memory, through the living room and towards her grandmother's favorite sofa to sit on.
She sat just adjacent from the television—that old tattered metal box with rusting antennas that tend to fall out of place every two to three business days. From afar, Albertine Bellemare looked fine, healthy even until you notice the dark purple bags under her eyes, the clear breathing tube in her nostrils that hooked from ear to ear, to her flaking olive green oxygen tank that revealed the silver metal underneath hidden by her side.
Juliette's heart thrashed against her ribcage at the scene. She looked far worse than she thought. She had only arrived last night, where the sun had fallen past the horizon and by candlelight did the flickering of a burning wick hide her ailment.
"Mamie," Juliette calls out gently as she approaches, hand grasping Albertine's with a touch so light you could very well mistake it for a soft breeze.
A slow breath escapes from her grandmother's lips as it gradually forms into the curt smile. She stares at her granddaughter for a few beats before she finally speaks, "Oh, my little Juliette. You look even more beautiful today. I am sure you will be stealing boys' hearts left and right at that new school of yours."
The girl couldn't help but chuckle as the apples of her cheeks warmed and a natural shade of pink dusted them, "You flatter me too much, mamie. How are you feeling?"
"Well enough," she answers thinly and Juliette could not tell if it was a lie.
Though, it wasn't the answer she was looking for, it was certainly better than nothing—hell, it was a lot better to hear a lie than to face any sort of truth at this moment. She was not so sure she could bear an answer worse.
Juliette stands, "That's good. I will be gone for a little bit, but I promise to be back as soon as possible to help you and papi."
Albertine smiles again, though it was more of a pursed lip with the way her wrinkles shaped the contours of her face, "Have a wonderful first day, my sweet."
When Juliette walks back into the kitchen, she spares no time hanking down a pain au chocolat. Crumbs dust the dark mahogany wood table with the early morning slipping away from her fast. As by the time she finishes her breakfast, she was left with fifteen minutes to spare. Her only options were walking or to take her grandfather's ancient rusted bicycle twice her age adorned with a loose seat.
She reckons walking in late would be better than risking tetanus.
˚✧₊⁎
It takes no genius to understand that Juliette Bellemare hates change. Plucking her from a city she was finally getting used to, away from friends, and an opportunity of a lifetime to plopping her back into the countryside was one thing, but this... this was different. It almost felt like a joke.
Change is good, however, no matter how much she despises it. It's the only way to move forward, but in her godforsaken circumstance it was her rather unsuccessful way to ease the marathon of anxious thoughts running through her brain.
Juliette hadn't entered the school yet as fear cemented her feet on the outskirts of the school gate. She had low expectations already, but seeing the way the boys stared in silence or shamelessly voiced their vulgar thoughts out loud, ogling at the group of girls that just walked in made her stomach churn.
If there was another thing about Juliette that was evident the moment you meet her is that she prefers the idea of not being perceived at all. That she was nothing but a single gust in the wind or another face in the crowd. Essentially, the complete opposite of what was going on in that damn courtyard and she felt her sanity depleting already.
She breathes in deep and gives genuine consideration to just turn back and study at home, but that was not a plausible option for her. What she needs is to suck it up and just walk in, but her heavy beating heart was leading her astray.
Juliette pivots her feet, turning away from the school not sparing a second thought until she bumps into another body. She curses under her breath, clutching her books tight against her body as her eyes meet with a girl. Quite a pretty one at that. With her silky alabaster hair and matching navy headband to her beautiful button dress, Juliette had realised perhaps she was a tad bit underdressed.
Perhaps she was used to the way girls had dressed in London with their love of black and white and neutral shades of clothing to match the gloomy weather and rigid school uniforms. She could not help but think of her black dress and white cardigan duo to be a bit prudish.
Now she was even more embarrassed.
"I'm so sorry," Juliette profusely apologises, "I should've looked where I was going—"
The blonde chuckles as she shakes her head, "Hey, it's okay. I would be running away too if I didn't care so much about my education."
"Same... I've been standing out here for five minutes trying to force myself in there." Juliette couldn't help but feel a bit silly about it.
"Well, it's much better going in with another person than going in alone. I'm Annick by the way, Annick Sabiani," she sticks her hand out to shake and the brunette gladly takes it.
"Juliette Bellemare."
"What a beautiful name," Annick compliments as she motions for her to follow.
Juliette flushes, matching her steps, "Thank you. Though, I was named after the Shakespeare character, unfortunately."
"What's so bad about that?"
"Considering I'm named after a girl who dies for a boy she had only known for two days, I'd rather get to know a guy for at least three before getting into whatever mess those thirteen-year-olds got into." Juliette jokes, though she knows it's not the best in her arsenal (and trust, she prides herself in her silly little jokes), Annick giggles nonetheless.
Juliette smiles.
Before she knows it, the pair of girls were already halfway through the courtyard in which their conversation distracted Juliette to the point she had not even noticed the pig-like stares from the boys surrounding them.
Annick you genius, she thinks.
"I mean, perhaps once you meet your Romeo, you'd understand where Juliet is coming from," says Annick, adding onto the topic once she noticed the girl's attention drifting towards the boys.
Juliette shakes her head, "I don't think I'll meet my Romeo for a while."
"You could choose any guy here, actually," Annick muses with a snicker, "He's probably staring at you right now."
A melodic laugh escapes Juliette's rose-tinted lips, "You're funny."
Out of curiosity, however, she scans the courtyard in a haphazard manner only to lock eyes with a boy with ruffled brown hair and round-framed glasses. There was a look in his eyes that Juliette couldn't quite pinpoint as he sat atop a bench with two other boys, elbows resting on his knees with his chin resting in his palm. A smirk melts onto his lips at the locking of their gazes and Juliette almost forgets to breathe.
How could he had been so comfortable staring even after getting caught? Absolutely no shame, the thought escapes Juliette. Not even a slight eye twitch and a panning gaze, no, if anything he stares deeper into her, as if he was trying to solve this jigsaw puzzle of a less than familiar face.
The hairs on the nape of her neck stands at the discomfort pumping through her veins. At this very moment, she had come to the full and not-so-subtle realisation that she was nothing but a zoo animal trapped in a cage, surrounded by deranged adolescent boys looking in. No escape and quite possibly no choice at all but to just take it. Juliette had never felt so disgustingly aware of every inch of her body before.
She looks away quickly and back towards Annick, giving her a saccharine-laced smile for a joke that will and always will be, just a joke.
AUTHOR'S NOTE !
we love genius 1000 iq annick lolol.
i wanted this chapter to be a shorter intro chapter but it ended up being longer than i thought. i wrote about 3.1k words which is about the average length of chapters i like to write (3-5k depending on how much i be yapping lol), so updates between chapters will take a bit longer.
i also opted not to do the whole SCENE and ACTION screenplay writing style as it felt a bit clunky while i was writing this chapter. ALSO THE FORMATTING WAS HELL AND WASNT SAVING RIGHT. i'm thinking of just leaving that for the synopsis, though that would've been a pretty cool style to write in.
anyway, this chapter was lowkey put through the wringer and i still don't think it's perfect. literally had to force myself to publish this or else it would've been stuck in the drafts for ages. also comments and feedback are appreciated!! thank you for reading :))
— fei.