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“Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” Juliette singsongs, trying to entertain herself until the sun sets and she can finally convince her mind to let her sleep. While living in New York, her many English teachers was obsessed with the works of Shakespeare and lucky for them, Juliette was quite amused with his Romeo and Juliette story. It was so entertaining that Juliette made them both perform it to a crowd of plants. Funnily enough, they found that though they can act themselves out of life-or-death scenarios, but they are in fact both terribly awful at acting out plays and cannot keep a straight face. It is a fond memory and Juliette still adamantly believes that their poor acting is the single reason that her plants began to shy away from their make-do stage on her balcony.
The petals Juliette had plucked right off the centre of the daisies lie in a tattered mess on the stone railing of the balcony she had slouched against for the better half of the afternoon. Stepping away from the balcony edge, Juliette decides that she really needs to find other ways to keep herself occupied. Her best remedy to boredom is always keeping up appearances in the city. The outer city is always best when she wants a quiet reprieve, and the inner city is always where the real action of fighting the White Flowers is. Either one would suffice; however, that would require her leaving and she did not particularly want there to be another blood feud within her household after her parents had demanded for her to stay put in her room. Though famous as being the princess of Shanghai to those outside of the household; within the Cai household, she is known for her troublesome ways of finding loopholes in every situation. Her captivity for the day being no challenge, for Juliette has already planned her escape. Well, her mental escape, she was explicitly told that she could not physically leave.
Taking out the dagger Roma commissioned for her years ago, Juliette begins sharpening it. Though Scarlet Gang members do not typically carry any type of knives and tend to opt for guns, Juliette makes an exception for this piece in her array of weaponry. The blade is made of a hard steel yet still manages to be a fairly lightweight and it has a point of balance that is perfect if Juliette were to actually use the dagger – it was very obviously made by the finest craftsmen that Roma could find. It is definitely one of the prettiest weapons she owns. The handle being a deep maroon with gold trims that only just shy away from a mimic of a floral patten, as if Roma had thought last second to not make it so obvious – but still letting the intention sit in plain sight. She would hate to know how much it had costed Roma for the commission, so instead, she just appreciates the craftsmanship and admires the intricacies of it all.
While sharpening the dagger, she begins picturing the route from the Scarlet Gang’s house at the edge of Shanghai and deep towards the inner city. Juliette practices this often to ensure that she will notice any changes that happen – more specifically, so she could detect if any White Flower homes are encroaching on their land. She lets her mind go through every nook, every cranny, every wind, and every incline of the Shanghai city. She watches as she imagines all the different people that she should see on Scarlet land, dashing around and walking towards the train station, trying to make it for the train that is due at the next half hour. There are parents ushering their children away from the tram lines as the sound of the bells pierce through the chatting.
Juliette finds her mind at the Bund.
There are all the merchants yelling their sales across the streets; the fishermen heaving their catches onto the tables and talking with their sellers; there were even ladies bargaining for the best deals while simultaneously shouting out for their children who seem to have an affinity for misbehaving. Though quieter, they back alleys are never silent. The avenues always have another game to gamble and grumble about a loss, another mother singing while hanging another load of washing on the line, and another swarm of children learning a new cuss word. There is always plenty happening, and the Bund is never asleep, just like their minds; but unlike their minds, they could always find some sort of little crevice in the deep corners of the Bund to hide away. Though their families are nowhere near being amiable, these days, Roma and Juliette are on much better terms. They still have to keep up an appearance of hatred outside, but when together in the haven they created for themselves, they are free. That is why they have always loved the Bund. It offered shelter from the storm of obligations and demands of their respective gangs. Their empires always wanting, always needing, always demanding for them to be apart. But they always found a way. No one could ever truly stop them when they wanted to be together. Not if they could help it.
Pocketing her dagger, Juliette returns to her place on her balcony and gently blows away the torn daisy petals – returning her gaze to the land stretching out towards the city – longing and hoping for some sort of epiphany to occur about being able to leave. Juliette turns her head slightly to watch the sun begin its final descent into the ocean horizon to rest for the night, allowing the moon to cast a softer glow on the land and letting the lights of the city to create their own brand of starlight across the Earth. A cooler gust of another summer’s night blows through the beads of Juliette’s favourite American dress, just about sending her huffing back inside for a coat but the last rays of the sun cause a burst of shimmer in the corner of her eye. Not well hidden beside the assortment of potted plants, her beloved childhood victory sits.
Twelve marbles. Twelve different victories. Twelve separate times she had met up with Roma. She remembered that she let him keep the last one, she had clicked her tongue and told him that it will always serve has a reminder of how many times he had lost to her. She also remembers that he would let her win in the beginning, but Juliette quickly dismissed that memory. She was never immediately good at the game – that’s why she kept going back to play him again. At least that is what she had told both him and herself. Now she just plain admits that she wanted to see him. They would play with their marbles off in the deepest corners of the Bund – never once interrupted, because if neither of them wanted to be found; then neither of them would be found. Though they have an affinity to hide from others, they tend to not be able to hide very well from each other. All it would take is one rough day and a few turned corners and they will have managed to find each other. They always knew when one of them was being looked for – summoned by their hated families. It always caused the hustling of the Bund to become more chaotic, more frantic, more dangerous. They never dared to mention what would happen if they were found together.
That’s how their unspoken agreement began.
Playing marbles was actually two games in one: a game of actual marbles and a game of who has to retrieve any of the misaimed marbles. Roma always lost. At least that’s what he wanted Juliette to believe. But they both could always read each other. Like how the moon knows when the sun needs to rest. Roma always took notice of how Juliette would grow more and more agitated the more she had to leave the corner they had tucked themselves away into – a fear of being spotted and dragged back to whatever duties she was putting off. If she had let him see this small breakthrough of anxiety – he could only imagine how much she was actually feeling. It was probably an easy rival of his own anxiety of being caught while meant to be doing his own duties – of being caught with her. Letting Juliette win was his way of letting her rest. Now he just lets her win because it makes her get all huffy and puffy about how he is not playing properly, and it is too terribly amusing to give up. Roma had already had his fair share of wins against his cousins, but annoying Juliette is just second nature to him, all out of the love and goodness of his very own heart.
Juliette knew that Roma was purposefully losing all those games, but she knew that he just wanted to build themselves a little home tucked away in the corner of the Bund where they, ideally, would never have to face the outside world.
That, and he was always way faster at finding the damned things.
Juliette always said that she wishes for their circumstance to be different. That they were not heirs to enemies in a meaningless blood feud. Juliette wished on every occasion, and still does, that they were just simple towns people, without a care but for when the other will return home for the day. Free to love and be loved by him, for it to feel as if the sun was kissing her skin from both the east and the west. Though Roma loves Juliette’s idea and truly will do anything to make it real, he also loves to entertain the extravagant idea that they were just simple heirs to royal thrones of kingdoms – their love allowed and encouraged to strengthen their alliance. Where he would have been free to court and incessantly woe Juliette as he pleases without a worry to who would overhear – without a worry to who would see. The world would be allowed to witness them. Roma loves adding to this idea when with Juliette because it always made her smile and forget about whatever problem that was brewing at the front of her mind.
Perhaps in their next life, they will be afforded peace throughout. Though, peace has never been something they’ve been able to have as prolonged periods in their life – they have still managed to create little pockets of sanctuary when with each other and away from the outside world. Perhaps in their next life, they will have a mere argument as strangers in a tea shop before falling helplessly in love. Or maybe, they will be revered actors whose fans throw tomatoes at them for dating. Perhaps their peace will just simply be being allowed to love each other without a care to anyone else.
It didn’t terribly matter. They both knew that their souls are connected for every lifetime that they live. There is no use weighing up the maybes and what-ifs, they both know that whatever happens; they’ll be together. Whether that is in their present, in their future, or in their afterlife – they will have peace together at some point. Pip- Their current mission is to get to that point. Well, their current mission is more so to protect Shanghai. Pip- Bring peace to Shanghai and Roma and Juliette’s peace will follow suit.
With all the precision years of battling a feud has given her, Juliette catches the object hurling towards her face. “HEY!” She storms over to the balcony ledge, kicking the guilty pebbles that had previously been thrown by her feet, and peers over to see the only person that is not afraid of her, “I could’ve killed you!”
Roma chuckles, “You would’ve if you wanted to,” he lets his cheeky smile shine through – the smile that could singlehandedly bring peace to Shanghai if he did not only reserve it for her, “but I guess you love me too much.”
Juliette rolls her eyes, “Anyways,” she holds the marble Roma threw at her between her thumb and pointer finger, up towards the sun and admires its reflection of the dying sunlight and soft glow “it’s mine now.” He must have run out of pebbles to throw and resorted to throwing a prized possession, and unless he has a collection of new marbles to lose to Juliette, this is his last one. But it is perfect. It is as if Roma had simply plucked the sun from the evening sky and granted Juliette the ability to hold the eternal warmth between her hands. That, and so she can finally have warm hands. Even if they both know it isn’t possible, they still know that Roma will do anything in his power to grant anything and everything – including the Earth’s mysterious ways – to his darling Juliette. Never because she asks, but only because it is what he feels she deserves.
Peering back over the balcony, Juliette watches Roma effortlessly hoist himself up the largest pillar to her balcony, as if he has done this a million times before – because he has done it a million times before. “People will see you.” She tuts but when he is just shy of the balcony ledge, she extends her hand to help him over.
“Oh, but Juliette, with love’s light wings, these stony limits cannot hold my love out.” He humoured, laughing to himself. It is his favourite line in the play, the one line that immediately stuck into his head and he could never let it go. Now, it is almost a given that he will say it upon welcoming Juliette. Roma graciously takes Juliette’s extended hand, not really using it to help himself over, but as an invitation to lift it above her head to make her twirl. “My darling, Juliette, why are you upset?”
The were always able to hide away in the Bund from everyone else, but they could never seem to be able to hide from each other. It is downright impossible. “You are too…” Juliette huffs.
Though obviously concerned, Roma chuckles and moves to sit against the east side of the balcony wall facing the retiring sun that is painting his face with the glow of the last warmth and cocooned between Juliette’s wilting – yet still standing tall – potted plants. If someone were to walk past her balcony from below or if someone were to walk into her room and look from the balcony inside, not that anyone would dare, they would only find Juliette speaking nonsense to her beloved plants. She may be Shanghai’s crazy plant lady, but she will take that over them knowing who she really is talking too. “What is going on in that head of yours, dorogaya?”
Though before Juliette could answer, his concern morphs through the stages of recognition, shock, disbelief, and then humour. He lifts a single marble from the pile and raises it to the sun, eyes flickering between it and Juliette before shaking his head and returning focus to Juliette, giving her a smug grin and a look of utter bemusement. So, this is where the rest of his marbles have gone, he hasn’t completely lost them after all.
Juliette lets out a near villainous cackle before letting herself settle with an unabashed smile. She will not be made to feel bad about her victories. She makes her way to over to him, fitting perfectly in the space and perfectly beside Roma. Only wanting to bask in the last warmth of the summer’s day, the everlasting warmth of her lover, and in the haven between her silly potted plants. Maybe she’ll keep the plants after all, especially for the moments like these where they can finally be in each other’s comfort.
But the wilting plants remain a complete mystery to her still. She waters them every day, making sure they are sitting in the sunniest spot possible – able to bask in the loving rays of the midday, afternoon, and setting sun. Perhaps there is too much water, perhaps there is too much sun. Perhaps her love is too violent. She only wants to be a reason for life, not a reason for more death. She never intended for them to die. There is already so much death in the world; death in the city; blood on her hands. What’s more? But these plants are innocent, not part of the feud at all, and yet she still has managed to bring them to death’s doorstep. She keeps managing to kill innocents; but what about the one person she has been told to kill from the day she was born? To the Scarlet Gang, it would be the greatest victory in the world – far greater than any marble match defeat.
“We’re at war, Roma. I am meant to kill you.”
She unsheathes her dagger, commission by the very man in front of her, and brings up to his chest, pointing it at his heart. Pushing further, she pierces the blade through the fabric of his stupid, white shirt, not enough to pierce his skin, never enough to hurt him. Though Juliette remains focused, eyes unwavering and ready to lash at the sound of a pin drop, Roma’s gaze stays steady and assuring – as if it is a perfectly normal situation. Slowly, he brings his hand towards the base of the dagger and wraps his hand around Juliette’s. He makes no effort to move the dagger; keeping it pointed at his heart.
Their love has been a fire. Burning passionately in the path of everyone who kept them apart, igniting rage in those who have lost too much to the feud and fear in those who are of power and know that it will all be lost. Love conquers hate and they have won. Roma and Juliette’s love has won. Building themselves a revolution with those who have seen the ugly truth of what the feud has been and those who believe in a better world. The twisting hatred for the rivalling gang brings nothing but misery and chaos. That instead of calling the hurt disfigured and casting them aside, their love has brought those citizens together. If the heirs of feuding gangs could love each other despite their families nurturing them in hatred for one another. Then there is hope for a Shanghai that can drop its weapons and pick up each other instead, holding each other so tight they could just about rebuild the years of mass destruction.
He whispers her name, sounding as delicate as the wind the blows through the alleyways near the Bund, yet he still pulls his gun to her heart. He does not pull the safety; and she is not holding the dagger to kill. They are both at a complete standstill. Guarded; yet not really waiting on an attack. Sometimes, this is the only way they are able to get past whatever difficult conversation they need to have – being able to feel like they can do anything with their weapon, yet still choosing not to. Being born to hate the person in front of them, but instead choosing to love them. Perhaps one day, they will be able to sit at their kitchen table, putting down their strength they have acquired with their chosen weapon, and finally being able to wholly embrace the strength that comes from them being together – united. But they have not quite figured that one out yet, not while they still can’t be seen together out in public. Not when they still have to pretend to hate each other outside their haven.
“Juliette, we are not at war.”
He does not need to say it, they know each other just about in and out, but it is always in their habit to ensure they are on the same page; seeking that they are both tired; seeking comfort in a spiraling turmoil of ruthless bloodshed.
They drop their weapons. To everyone else, they never give up – they never miss a shot or a slash at someone. The only time they ever have, with the only witness being the chilling glow of the half-risen moon, are the shots they should unleash at each other. To others they never miss; but they always miss each other.
Juliette leans back, her back hitting the brick wall harder than what Roma would like. She huffs and he simply lifts his arm above her head; enticing her to lay against something a little bit softer. If they were still as young as they were when they first met, Roma would tell himself he is doing this just for Juliette’s back and Juliette would say that the wall is far more comfortable. But they are not. The weight of their parents’ blood feud has taken its toll, and they are both just plain tired. And with that, Roma will admit that he wants Juliette in his arms and Juliette will admit that she just wants to be held by Roma.
He looks between Juliette and the plants they are hiding within. “Dorogaya, your love is like a tender little plant. You get to put it outside when it rains and bring it back in when it starts storming. You get to let it bask lazily outside in the morning sun, bring it back in at the midday heat, and put it back out to enjoy the last embers of the day. But look at me.” Juliette moves her eyes from the horizon and moves her head to press her chin to the top of his shoulder, looking up into his eyes. “I am not green, and I do not have leaves. My words may be as pretty as those poor daisies you ripped up earlier,” he gives her a knowing, yet amused, look, “they are scattered all at the bottom of your balcony, but I am not a plant. You do not have to give and give and give to me. You do not have to water me right and move my pot to different parts of your balcony as the seasons change. You do not need to take care of my love, that is my job, that is my own tender little plant. Your job is to nurture the love you have, build its garden, and cast your rays upon the people you deem worthy of the warmth you tended. And then we get to bring it all together and have a massive greenhouse of little plants.”
Juliette leaned her head forward, pressing an unusually soft press against his cheek. Usually, in typical Juliette fashion, she would throw herself against him at any chance, locking her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist, and her lips against his own. But, in their more tender moments, a softer warmth was all that Juliette needed to convey her own love. Unlike Roma, she was never one for words when it came to expressing her love. It always left her rather speechless. Even though she would always deny it to Roma, she always put a lot of effort into writing her lettered responses to him – knowing that he would treasure each and every word she stylised in her Juliette-font. And in those that she could only write in a hurry, hoping no one sees to who she is writing for, she hoped that the single heart would suffice and tide him over until she could see him in person.
Without moving from their embrace, their eyes settle to watch the people hustling in the gardens below, readying everything for the night and preparing for the morning shift. Further out, lies the treelined borders of the Cai House – or the prison Juliette has begun to call it. It had never quite been her home; she had always preferred either being on the Bund with Roma or surprising Roma in his room. The Cai House will never be her home, but laying in Roma’s arms it is clear that this is the only place she will ever feel at home.
A home where they can freely be with each other. A home where they are safe. A home where they can entertain guests that they want, and not the internationals they have to entertain. A home where Roma can lose all his marbles again. A home where Juliette can learn to keep her plants alive. A home for them to love. “Roma,” Juliette sits up and looks him in the eye. She holds onto his hand that is around her shoulders and plays with his fingers, she runs her other hand through her finger curls and then messes around with the loose threads on her favourite red flapper dress, “I want to leave this place. I want to be anywhere that you are.”
Roma ponders for a second and Juliette can see the exact moment that he finally has his answer. When he is with mutual enemies, his eyes are hard and unwavering, they are decisive and get the job done. When with Marshall, Benedikt, and Alisa it is a brotherly protection, love, and playfulness. But when with Juliette, it is a softer kind of love, it is their future and their unwavering support. It is excitement.
To Roma, she is like the sun. Loving Juliette is loving the sun. Ever since she stole his marble, holding it up towards the sun and causing the sun’s glow to be concentrated just below Roma’s eye – not close enough to blind him, but enough to warn him; he knew she was the embodiment of the sun itself. She is warm, powerful, fiery, and dangerous. Children often drew the sun with yellow or even orange crayons, but the second Roma met Juliette, he knew the sun is red – a very scarlet shade of red. The very same that adorns his cheeks when her hand lingers a second longer than need be on his shoulder, or she when she signs her letters with a ‘J’ and a scarlet heart, and especially when she would catch him staring at her. Roma used to feel like he had to hide from her in the shade of the trees, in the middle of buildings where there are no windows, and even boarding his window closed and locking himself in his room, all to hide and await the reprieve of nightfall. But it never came. Though the sun is not out at night, the romantic moon still reflects her great shine upon the city of Shanghai. Only the lights along the streets gave him temporary respite, allowing him to believe that the light is just from the lamps, yet the globes still reminded him of tiny suns, adorning the city that never sleeps in another glow of sunlight. Now though, he does not hide it. His cheeks becoming her scarlet red is just another way that he allows himself to feel and bask in her presence.
There is no missing a beat and Roma leaps to his feet, pulling Juliette up with him. “Pack the things you’ll need, I’ll be back.” Roma leans down and kisses her cheek, running a quick hand through her perfect curls to mess them up a little, and he turns to leave but Juliette is quicker to grab his hand.
“Alright. Done. Time to go.” She makes a move to drag Roma to the balcony edge for their great escape.
He stops her and uses her force against her to bring her back towards him. “That is a lovely sentiment, but you’re going to at least need clothes, dorogaya.” Roma chuckles, and the warmth from his smile alone is enough for Juliette to seriously consider if she will need any clothes at all.
“But we have all your clothes?” Juliette tries dragging him back towards the balcony.
“Ha. Ha. Very funny. We won’t have all your fun little weapons though, so go pack. I’ll meet you by the seats in the far back left corner of the Cai yard in two hours. I shouldn’t be any longer than that.” He runs his hand through her hair again, letting it rest against her cheek.
“How do you know about the seats?”
“Miss Juliette Cai,” Roma professed, move to hold both her hands in his own, “I have spent years in this place, learning all the ins and outs and all its secrets. I know it just as well as I know that I never want to spend another second away from you, so please be quick packing and I will return shortly.” Roma winked and he let go, walking towards the balcony and climbing down the pillar and hasting himself across the moonlit gardens towards his house in the heart of the city; for his home will only ever be with Juliette.
Perhaps they are only the sun and moon apart. But together, they are two stars, destined to be together for human history to write love poems about and whisper their stories of unwavering dedication. Their starlight to be an ever-fixed light in the dark that provides hope to the lost and the direction they need. That love is the guidance through the dark.