Chapter Text
Romeo heaved a deep sigh as he rose from his bed. An instant chill clung to his bare skin, and he rubbed his arms, trying to wear down the cold. His digital clock read 8:02 AM -- only 13 minutes before his alarm would go off. A smile forced its way on to his lips; he was glad not to be woken by the harsh buzzing noises Mercutio had set it to.
Minutes later, Romeo had dressed, brushed his teeth, and washed his face. He gazed at his face in the mirror for a short while -- his blond bangs clung to his wet forehead, and his gray-blue eyes looked void, the dark circles underneath not helping to improve his vacant expression. Today was going to be a long day. Romeo could feel it in the way there felt like there was a weight in his stomach, like heavy stones. He tried not to look at his unmade bed which sounded so appealing. As he left his room, his alarm promptly went off.
His suspicions were quite right, as the second he closed his door, people were rushing all about the house, getting ready for the party that was to be that night. So that was what the heavy feeling was about -- dreaded socialization. Was it too late to go back to bed? He barely had a chance to look back at his door longingly before his mother had grabbed him in passing.
"Romeo, dear, you've slept so late." She said, pursing her lips in slight distaste despite the kind words emitting from her mouth. She brushed his bangs to the side with her sharp-nailed hand and he promptly shook his head to put them back in their place across his forehead.
"I don't wake up at 6 like you do, mama." He said, an easy, tired smile playing on his lips.
"Well, I hope you're not wearing that to tonight's party." She said teasingly, gesturing to his ripped-up jeans and low-cut t-shirt.
"I won't." Romeo said, but paused a moment later in thought. He, then, asked: "Mama, do I have to go to the party tonight? I, uh ... I wanted to spend the night with Balthazar, we had a game of chess planned." A lie.
"Romeo!" Lady Montague exclaimed sternly, seeming displeased at her son's excuse. "You have to go and make an appearance. What will people say if you're not there? -- It's already pushing it that you're always with that Escalus boy so publicly. Besides," one of her clever smirks enveloped her lips, "I think you'll find a certain guest tonight... interesting. He's very well esteemed."
"Who's the guest?"
"Well, you'll just have to come and see, won't you?" She pressed a kiss to his cheek and made her way upstairs, and he sighed. Now he was curious-- curse her cleverness!
He made his way downstairs for breakfast, which he ate in a dragging fashion, having no appetite to motivate him. What did motivate him, however, was when his phone began to emit Taylor Swift's Love Story. In embarrassment, he didn't meet the judging glances of those around him as he picked up the call and chewed his food.
"Romeo." He said, slightly muffled from his mouthful of pancakes. "Who is this?"
"Beyoncé."
"Good morning, Mercutio." He couldn't help but smile.
"Don't you good morning me. Are you not as hungover as me?" Mercutio slurred into the phone.
"No, I was hanging out with poor, sick Benvolio at home. "
"Right-- that was Tybalt drinking with me, not you." He chuckled dryly, which turned into a soft groan moments later. Romeo envisioned him rubbing his eyes in exhaustion.
"Sounds like you had a fun night." He said in a purposefully suggestive tone, taking a long sip of orange juice and being happy to not be Mercutio right now.
"Oh, shut up, lover boy. Speaking of fun nights, you ready for tonight?" Mercutio sounded about as enthusiastic as Romeo was about the upcoming party. "Me and Val got an invite from your dad, and I honestly want to go like I want a hole in my head... but my Uncle gave me the whole lecture, uh, y'know, about how I'm pushing it--"
"My mom, too, just now. 'It's already pushing it that you're always with that Escalus boy', she said."
"Romeo, you complete me."
"Hey, get this--" Romeo said, brushing off the others snide comment with a chuckle. "She also said that there would be a special guest or something-- like, she said I'll think he's interesting. I'm trying to figure out who it is. Not your uncle, right?"
"My uncle is about as interesting as wet paint, buddy, you know that." Mercutio drawled with a yawn. "Maybe it's a prince. Maybe he's cute."
"See you laaater, bye," Romeo said hurriedly, and he could hear Mercutio's laughter on the other end.
"Wait, wait, wait, hold up!" Said the latter in between exhausted giggles. "I'm gonna be at your place around 7, 'kay? Hey -- is Benny coming?"
"No, didn't I just say he's sick?" Romeo said, finishing up his breakfast and pushing his plate away. "Believe me, I'm second best in this situation. It'll just be you and me."
"-- And the cute guest."
"Bye!" He quickly hung up, grinning to imagine how Mercutio must be laughing. Or, you know, vomiting because of his hangover. Either way, he would see him there tonight, to meet this mysterious, possibly interesting, possibly cute guest.