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Leo made sure to laugh at Jason before drinking this time to avoid another nose-spraying incident.
“Holy crap,” Leo cackled, the script crinkling in his fingers. “You’re somehow making a tragedy a comedy. You don’t know a single line and the show is next week. Jesus,” Leo reached for his milkshake and sipped from the straw. “Gods, Jason, learn your fucking lines, man.”
“I know some of my lines,” Jason defended himself.
“Oh really?” Leo snickered. “You sure know how to nail the No’s.”
“I know more than that,” Jason shot back.
Leo had the look he typically had when something was about to go very wrong. He bit his straw, trying to contain his grin but failing miserably. “Then what’s your next line?” he asked.
“Um,” Jason winced. “Something, something, no?”
Leo shook his head, drinking. “‘Nay, that’s not so.’”
“Then what is it?” Jason reached for the script, but Leo held it close, chuckling to himself, as he wrapped his arms around it.
Leo busted out laughing. “That’s your line. ‘Nay, that’s not so,’” he tossed the script onto Jason’s lap and shifted forward in his seat. “You’re a terrible Romeo.”
Just to be sure, Jason leaned under the overhead car light to check if that was his line. His eyes scanned the highlighted words, and Leo slurped loudly as Jason’s neck grew red. Okay, so maybe Jason didn’t know his lines.
In truth, he had spent some time trying to figure out his lines, considering he was a lead, but life got a hold of him. New Rome University offered Jason a lot of flexibility but considering he hadn’t been in a school system for years (ignoring the very brief semester at Edgarton), Jason hadn’t realized how much he would regret piling on such a heavy workload.
As it turned out, Jason Grace was super lazy when it came to the classroom. He managed to ease through his bi-weekly Swordfighting 101 class and Monster Ethics lectures, but he struggled with arithmetic and chemical equations. Being praetor, it seemed, did not require much “in-classroom thinking.”
He didn’t even want to join the drama club. Jason’s never showed interest in theatre until he was walking around on his way to lunch when some sobbing kid was freaking about not having a lead. By the time Jason had even said, We have a theatre club? he’d been assigned the role of Romeo in Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet because he had “a face and name that could bring in people.”
Jason went back to his dorm and read the script inside and out. He didn’t understand most of it and thought the play was stupid. He guessed the fight scenes were cool, though, but Romeo wasn’t in the bulk of them. Which sucks because Jason had an excellent grade in his Sworfighting class.
Leo thought the entire thing was hilarious. He apparently read the play in mortal school or at least read a summarized version. When Leo had first found Jason hunched over the play, he fell to the ground laughing at the thought of Jason being in tights on stage. Leo found drama club to be funny in general, but then a week later, Jason went to rehearsal and almost got maimed by a swinging light with Leo cheekily grinning next to it.
“Why are you here?” Jason had asked.
“Did you know they use real weapons instead of props?” Leo poked him with one of the Very Real Swords, and then Jason fought him off with one of the curtain rods stashed in the props closet.
After that, Leo just kept showing up. Sometimes he stayed late to help Jason with his lines. Other times he helped out with making the very extravagant sets and setting up flats and lights. It was a routine for Jason to come back after running a scene and sit down on the stage watching Leo lay final paint strokes.
He was meticulous, Jason learned. Well, this was something Jason’s always known. Still, sometime in the past few months, Jason couldn’t help but take notice of how Leo always lingered after rehearsal to fix up something that couldn’t wait until the next day, or how Leo was frequently covered in wood shavings or paint, but his work was spotless. It was always good, something Jason always felt ‘wow-ed’ by, but he didn’t dare to speak in fear of breaking Leo’s concentration.
Leo flourished. And Jason? He tried.
It was weird. Most times he knew his lines, but when Jason was with Leo like this, his mind went blank and the words didn’t fit quite right.
“Okay, so what scenes do you know?” Leo set down his cup into the cup holder between them. Over the past few years, Leo had taken the time to build a car that he lovingly called Mach Five. Initially, Jason didn’t get the reference (Speed Racer wasn't prime Roman TV growing up), but when Leo found out, he got mad at Jason for the rest of the day. Later that night, he knocked on Jason’s dorm, arms full of snacks and his demigod-safe laptop, barging in, saying, “I forgot your wolf mommy deprived you of good media.”
Jason couldn’t even remember the show. He just remembered looking over to his best friend a lot and listening to Leo laughing. Leo fell asleep mid-way through the ninth episode, and Jason put the laptop on his desk and fell asleep next to him.
“I know the first one, the last one, and the Juliet ones.” Their Juliet was a daughter of Venus, who was extremely good at acting. Jason nearly falls in love during each scene, until he would look behind her and see Leo making faces at him in the shadows.
Leo nodded. “Yeah, she likes you.”
Jason laughed. “She has to. We’re co-leads who are supposed to pretend like we’re in love.”
“No, I mean,” Leo glanced at him weirdly, “wait— do you seriously not know?”
“Know what?”
“Dude,” Leo’s fingers drummed on the car wheel. He shifted again to look at Jason. “She’s like, in love with you and shit. Like, she’s got it bad. I would know— damn, I thought you knew.”
Jason skimmed through his memories of the girl. In all honesty, his time in drama club had been compressed to memories of goofing off with Leo or silent moments where he waited for Leo to be done with a project. The Venus girl, whose name was Maya, was really just a co-worker to Jason. They shared a biology class last semester, but that was before the play, so they never really talked.
“She doesn’t act like it,” Jason finally said. He glanced out the window. They were just outside of New Rome, in a fast-food parking lot in San Fransisco. Considering it was almost 1 AM and the place had closed hours ago, the parking lot was empty. “If you didn’t notice, I only really talk to you there.”
Leo bit his lip and bounced his head against the headrest. “Jason…” he trailed off. Then Leo jumped in his seat and turned to him. “It’s getting hot in here, isn’t it? I’m going to open the windows.”
It wasn’t very hot, but the windows were rolled down regardless. Leo sighed happily, his fingers once again drumming on the wheel. Jason watched those thing fingers move for a few seconds, and then his gaze dropped to the script in his lap.
The only reason why Jason has brought it was that he had been running lines before Leo spontaneously rushed into his room complaining that his roommate was getting busy and that he was so hungry, but the dining hall was closed. There was about an 89% chance that Connor Stoll was not getting busy, but Jason’s lines were becoming gibberish, and he was always up for a random best friend adventure.
Leo was fun. Jason was thrilled that Leo had gone to New Rome with him. Not that there were many places for a demigod higher education, but Leo could’ve gone anywhere. Piper didn’t bother applying to New Rome and goes to a mortal college in LA with her girlfriend, which Jason didn’t mind.
He could see himself going to a mortal school, but after his second death with Caligula, Jason was confronted with the fact that he might never escape his demigod side.
Leo just got a really good scholarship.
Jason flipped through the script. For the most part, he had it down, but all night he had been fumbling with the lines. Leo made him nervous in a way Jason had yet to understand. It wasn’t a bad nervousness, just excitable energy like the feeling Jason got after he won a battle. Being around his best friend meant Jason was constantly rolling on endorphins, but now, that energy had converted into nerves that made Jason forget how to speak.
It was frustrating. Jason had assumed it would be harder to spill scripted confessions of love to a child of Venus, but for some reason, it was a million times harder to recite them to his best friend.
“Wait,” Jason jumped at Leo’s voice. He hadn’t noticed Leo moving over to peer at the dialogue. Now that he was aware, Jason froze. Leo pointed at one of the lines on the script. “This is totally the death scene. How come we’ve never practiced that one?”
“It’s long.”
“You’re an actor, Jason. Get over it.” Leo turned the car off and opened his door. He stepped out and bent at the window. “I know my baby is sweet as hell, but get out so we can do this scene. It’s hilarious.”
Jason got out of the car. He held on to the script, rolled up in his fist, and zipped up his jacket. Leo was hopping around underneath the giant sign displaying the name of the fast-food place. Jason eyed the street corner and the cars passing by but figured that he’s faced things a lot worse than a not-very-busy-street-at-night.
“Pass the script—” Leo caught it when Jason tossed the book. “Why didn’t you bookmark the page? Give me a sec.” He bent under the luminescent light to flip through pages. “This is so annoying,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.
Leo’s matured a lot since Jason’s met him (really met him, not those Wilderness memories). He’s not much taller, but he grew leaner with muscle gained from quests, and he was more sure of himself. In the NEW ROME UNI sweatshirt that Jason was only half sure was actually his, Leo just looked like an ordinary college kid. It was hard to remember that neither of them were ‘ordinary’ nor had they ever really felt like ‘kids,’ but Jason was sometimes confronted with this in his dreams.
He did dream of Leo a lot. He dreamed of Piper, Reyna, Nico, Octavian, Gwen, Thalia—okay, Jason thought about his friends a lot. It was mostly nightmares. He’d seen his friends die a thousand deaths and himself die a thousand more. Since his Caligula death and revival, Jason’s dreams were seldom anything but nightmares.
But sometimes, they were prophetic, the way demigod dreams could be. Him flunking a test or knowing that going to a party would end badly. Very recently, and Jason failed to put it together until now, but Jason had pictured this scene of Leo messing around with him. It scared him because good dreams were hard to come by, but Jason was ultimately pleased that it wasn’t just a dream.
“Alright, alright, I got it, thanks for the help,” Leo bitched. He raised the script to his eyes. “I’ll be Paris, and we can fight, and all that jazz, and then I die, and then you give that long-ass monologue, and then you die too, and then the play ends.”
“That’s not where the play ends, Leo.” Jason stuck his hands in his pockets.
Leo nodded approvingly. “I’m surprised you knew that, considering you don’t know anything in this book. But those are your last lines anyway because you’re like—,” Leo’s nose crinkled. “Dead.”
“Fine,” Jason sighed. He rolled his shoulders back and stood across from Leo. Since Leo was using the light behind him, his face was covered in shadows if he looked down. His eyes were very dark, fascinating to watch. “Start wherever.”
“‘Kay,” Leo scanned the page. He took a step forward and cleared his throat, “This is that banish’d haughty Montague.”
He wasn’t really trying. Jason could tell when Leo was trying, and here, he wasn’t. Part of Jason wished Leo was because he always wanted Leo’s best efforts shown to him. Besides, there was no one else around, so if Leo was embarrassed, it was only for Jason’s eyes, and Jason wouldn’t humiliate him.
Regardless, Jason continued with his lines, easing into the role. “I must indeed; and therefore came I hither. Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man—”
If he was doing a good job, Leo didn’t show any signs of it. He nodded along to make sure Jason’s lines were correct. Jason tried not to get annoyed because he wanted his best friend to watch him instead of the words.
“Oh, we fight after this line,” Leo cut Jason off mid-line. He finally looked up at Jason, grin crooked. “You wanna duel and shit?”
“We could-” Jason strode ahead and grabbed Leo’s wrist. “Or I could just flip you here.”
“Ouch, dude,” Leo shook him off. He plopped down on the ground instead, dramatically clutching at his chest. “Oh gods, I’m dying,” he said in a monotone voice. “Ah, I’m dying. Oh fuck, I’m dead. Blegh,” Leo laid out on the ground, rolling his head to the side.
“You forgot the line.” Jason crouched next to him.
Leo sat up. “What?” He squinted at the script. “Oh yeaaaah, okay, Oh, I am slain! If thou be merciful, open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.” Leo fell to the ground again with another Blegh. Then he leaned upon his elbows again. “Oh, there’s no Juliet.” He glanced at Jason. “Pretend I’m Juliet and Paris dead, in like, my own arms or something then.”
Jason stared blankly at him. “You talk a lot for a dead person.”
“You’re so mean to me, and all I am is helpful.” Leo laid back down, holding the book over his face. “Keep going then, Romeo.”
Leo’s movements weren’t the same blocking Jason learned on stage, but he rolled with it. Bracing himself with a hand to crouch easier, Jason ran through his final lines in the play. It was easier now that he couldn’t see Leo’s face.
If anything, Jason felt more uncomfortable than nervous. He was about to perform his own death, which was fine when he was with Maya, the Venus girl, but with Leo, it felt a little… too close to home. Back when they were sixteen, Jason very much did see Leo die and died shortly after. He was glad that he was alive, but some part of him never recovered from that period in his life.
Jason wanted to be seen by Leo. He wanted Leo to see him.
“For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes this vault a feasting presence full of light,” Jason reached over and pulled the script away from Leo. Leo stared up at him questioningly. “Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr’d. How oft when men are at the point of death have they been merry! Which their keepers call a lightning before death: Oh, how many I call this a lightning?”
Leo sat up, bringing his knees to his chest. Jason sat on his knees in front of him, handing back the script. The book balanced on Leo’s thighs, but he didn’t bother looking at it.
“Death, that hath suck’d the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.” Jason’s motions were automatic, the moves he used on his typical Juliet. His hand brushed Leo’s face, his thumb rubbing his cheek. Leo frowned at him, and Jason struggled to remember the next line.
“Thou art not conquer’d,” Leo read the line, face and voice emotionless.
“Thanks,” Jason muttered. He rubbed Leo’s cheek, the skin being a lot warmer than what he was used to. Leo’s always been warm though, something Jason’s never minded. He continued: “Thou art not conquer’d; beauty’s ensign yet is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks.”
It got Jason thinking. It was funny— in some twisted way, Leo was a Juliet figure. He faked a death that led to Jason’s actual death, and Leo only came back after the fact. He wondered if Leo was thinking this too. “That unsubstantial death is amorous, and that the lean abhorred monster keeps thee here in dark to be his paramour? For fear of that, I still will stay with thee, and never from this palace of dim night depart again: here, here will I stay.”
“Remain,” Leo corrected. His eyes scanned Jason’s face, searching for something like the way he was searching for the pages. “Not stay, it’s remain.”
“Here, here will I remain,” Jason licked his lips. “Was the rest good?”
“Um,” Leo’s eyes glanced at the side road. “Yeah, I think so. You’re a better actor than I remember. It’s uh, good.” Leo shifted the book on his thighs. “Uh, you’re— yeah, you’re fine. We can stop here if you want.”
Jason shrugged, pulling his hand away for the moment. “It’s only a few more lines left.” When Leo didn’t say anything, Jason reluctantly went to his next couple of lines.
Romeo had initially been interested in a woman named Rosaline, and he went on about how much he loved her, but after meeting Juliet, he fell desperately in love with her. The cast had dissected the play a couple of times, and someone introduced the idea that Romeo wasn’t really in love with Juliet but was instead infatuated with her.
Jason kind of understood that, but here, in this parking lot staring at Leo, Jason felt like Romeo was in love. The guy was a romantic, and his lover was presumed to be dead. It didn’t feel like acting to Jason, and that realization made his voice waver. “—a-and, um, eyes, look your last! Arms, t-take your last embrace! And, lips, oh, you. The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss, a dateless bargain to engrossing death!”
Leo stared at him. Jason’s other hand had moved to hold his head at some point, grasping Leo’s jaw. Jason’s nervous energy, the stuff he felt around Leo, was going insane right now, triggering his fight or flight, but Jason stayed glued to the concrete.
“Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on the dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark. Here’s to my love,” Jason murmured. Had he been on stage, he would’ve drunken from a props vial filled with juice.
Usually, Juliet’s eyes were closed. She was supposed to be dead, naturally, but Leo never did things the way they should be done, and his eyes were wide open and never leaving Jason. Jason could feel the light pulse under Leo’s jaw, beating against his fingers.
He inhaled. “Oh true apothecary! They drugs are quick. Thus I die with a kiss.”
Jason didn’t kiss him. He wanted to. He fucking wanted to. But Leo was staring at him, and Jason’s energy was exploding, but he couldn’t.
Leo suddenly jerked. “You just shocked me,” he murmured, taking his hand and peeling Jason’s away. “And your line was wrong.”
Jason frowned. “No it wasn’t. I know my lines.”
With a strained laugh, Leo placed the script next to him. He sat upon his knees. “I told you you should learn your lines. It’s thus with a kiss, I die. You got it all mixed up.” Leo told him. “You kiss and then die. It doesn’t make sense to die before kissing.”
“It’s happened before,” said Jason.
“It’s not happening here,” Leo said. “Try it again.” He lay back on the ground, properly on his back instead of sitting up, and he motioned for Jason to lean over. “Start from the line before it.”
Jason kind of didn’t want to, especially for such a tiny detail, but Leo was meticulous. He imagined all those late nights and Leo’s attention to detail, and Jason recognized that he doesn’t want to be the one to ruin that detail for Leo. He bent over, the way he does at rehearsal, cradling Leo’s face.
“Here’s to my love,” Jason recited. His eyes fall to Leo’s eyes, down to his nose, and to his lips. “Oh true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss, I die.”
Again, it goes through Jason’s mind, but he does not kiss his best friend. Leo stared up at him. Then, he leaned upon his elbows again and muttered, “Fuck, Jay,” and he grabbed the back of Jason’s neck and pulled him down to kiss.
When Jason sat back on his legs, he said, for reasons unknown to himself, “love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs.”
Leo blinked and then burst out laughing, “Gods,” Leo sat up and kissed Jason again. “What the hell does that mean?”
Jason grinned at him, but it could’ve just been an automatic reaction to the endorphins Leo typically sent flurrying within him. “It’s one of my lines. It’s from Act 1. I told you— I know my lines.”
“Oh really?” Leo grabbed the script. “So what’s the whole line then? Come on, Romeo, what’s the whole line? What’s the whole thing, huh?”
Jason opened his mouth, but then his thoughts were all Leo and not Romeo & Juliet, so he closed his mouth, and Leo couldn’t stop laughing.