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vyncentevelyn · 1 year

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Romeo & Juliet Mercutio

Part 1

(Based on this little snippet.)

Steve smiles at Nancy, “You look beautiful, Nance.”

She blushes and looks down at the rich, plum velvet adorned with fake pearls on the bodice. Steve takes the opening, a glimmer of hope slipping into his heart, “You’re the perfect Juliet.”

Nancy rolls her eyes, “We’ll see.”

“Nancy!” Someone yells, “Places.”

“I gotta go, Steve.” Nancy says, already stepping away.

Steve nods, “Yeah, yeah. Uh, hey. Good luck – or no! Shit. I take that back.” He points and smirks at her, “Break a leg, Nance.”

Nancy smiles but turns away and heads backstage without another word. Steve heads to his seat. He sits down in the third row beside Mike. Mike looks at him with a flat expression that exudes boredom to a degree that is honestly impressive. Steve gives him a thin, close smile. Mike rolls his eyes and slouches further in his seat.

Yeah. That. Steve thinks as he looks around the filling auditorium.

His eyes catch Jonathan standing at the edge of the stage, near the steps. He fiddles with something on his camera, adjusts the lens. But then stops. He gives a small wave to something off stage.

Steve’s heart sinks and he forces himself to ignore it, refuses to name the feeling gathering around his chest.

The lights flash three times.

Mike sighs.

Mrs. Wheeler turns to him and whispers something in his ear.

Steve settles back in the stiff auditorium chair as the lights finally go down and the curtain starts to move back.

The play starts and Steve is uncomfortable. He frowns. Feels the hot flush of frustration on the back of his neck. Shakespeare. Why couldn’t it be like the Wizard of Oz or some shit?

He sinks lower in his seat, gets similarly close to Mike’s position. He bites his bottom lip and tries to focus on the actors not the words, which honestly just sound like riddles. He knows enough about Romeo & Juliet to get the general gist and figures what he can’t understand he can piece together through their actions and the set design. Except…the actors suck.

Mike audibly groans as the lights dim after the first scene. And Steve doesn’t blame him.

The second scene starts and none of the actors are really any better. Romeo, who on the back of pamphlet is played by freshman Gareth Emerson, isn’t that bad. He has a soft face, but he has the chops. His voice is steady and loud, and it fills the auditorium easily. And while it takes a second for Steve to solve the riddling lines, he can appreciate Gareth’s delivery.

And when Nancy walks onto the stage, she delivers her lines as if she was born as Juliet. As if Nancy is the charade. Her voice is as soft as it ever is, but it rings clear. Sounds like music the way the lines rhyme at the end. Steve smiles brightly as her first scene comes to an end.

Between Garth and Nancy, it helps alleviate most of the bad performances. But not entirely. Steve thinks it must be stage fright or something. But it’s like everyone just freezes. Even Nancy and Gareth are guilty of it. They stand on the stage like they are stuck in tar. And sure, Steve isn’t necessarily artistic in any form, but he figures it has to be similar to playing any kind of sport. Coach Morgan’s voice comes screaming to life in his head, “Stationary players mean you lost the game, you have the whole field or court – use it!” And Steve thinks the same thing has to apply here, it must.

Steve looks over at Mike. Mike is grimacing. He looks to Jonathan. Jonathan is standing in the same spot by the stage steps, but he is not aiming his camera at the stage. Steve takes that as confirmation.

Steve frowns. They have at least another hour of this.

But then scene four opens. The scenery changes to a street meant to be somewhere in Italy during early evening. The lighting is warm, and the sound department plays a track of a fountain and what Steve thinks are horses and soft chatter. Some extras stand oddly still in the background wearing masks and holding torches.

Gareth walks onto the stage with the kid playing Benvolio, some Stanly Richards Steve vaguely recognizes. They freeze like statues beside the fake fountain as Gareth delivers the scene’s first lines.

As he speaks a taller actor walks out onto the stage. He saunters onto the stage dressed in all black with gold details sewn on the sleeves and around the collar of his tunic. His dark curls are held back with a gold ribbon in a very loose French braid. He puts one leg up on the edge of the fake fountain and props his head in one hand on his knee. He blinks and Steve realizes he is wearing black eyeliner and gold glitter on his eyelids.

Steve swallows. Feels sweat pinprick his skin on his neck and under his arms. Feels his heartbeat pick up.

The older boy stands back to full height as Gareth says something to him. He walks a few steps into the center of the stage. He turns back and dramatically flings his hand out towards Gareth, his voice is deep and has a slight rasp to it as he sighs, “Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.”

Gareth starts to reply, still frozen by the fountain. But Steve isn’t paying attention, he is twisting the pamphlet in the low light to try and figure out who is in the scene now. The cast list is set up by order of appearance and if Steve is following everything right, this is Mercutio. Played by Eddie Munson.

Eddie Munson.

Eddie “The Freak” Munson.

Steve quickly looks back up as Mercutio says, “You are a lover; borrow Cupid’s wings, and soar with them above a common bound.”

Steve feels like he’s blushing. Because that is Eddie “The Freak” Munson. The kid he knows as basically a heap of hair in the back of homeroom as he sleeps for the first period. The kid that gives obnoxious speeches during lunch on occasion. The kid who supplies half the school with whatever drug they want at a party and even not at parties.

And here he stands, in black skintight leggings and a matching tunic and eye makeup. And he’s…good. Like really good. He is stealing the show.

Steve swallows.

Mercutio walks over to the fake trellis of roses and fiddles with one of the blooms, “If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.” He turns back and looks at Romeo, puts his hands on his narrow waist, “Give a case to put my visage in: a visor for a visor!” And to everyone’s shock, Romeo walks over to a table which is set up like a merchant’s booth. Mercutio smirks and slinks up beside him, picks up one of the masks from the table and holds it up so the audience can see it, “What care I, what curious eye doth quote deformities?” He playfully teases Romeo with the mask, covers Gareth’s face and then his own, he smirks, “Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.”

Romeo swats him away and picks up a feathered mask. Places a coin on the merchant’s table.

Mercutio passes the mask he was holding to Benvolio and picks up another mask. This one is gold with black detailing and will only cover half of his face.

Romeo sighs, “And we mean well in going to this mask, but tis no wit to go.”

Eddie comes and sits beside Romeo at the fountain, adorns his mask. He looks at Romeo, tilts his head, “Why, may one ask?”

“I dream’d a dream tonight.”

“And so did I.”

Mercutio looks out at the audience as Romeo says, “Well what was yours?”

Steve swears their eyes lock. His face feels like it must be the same shade as the fake roses littering the stage. Eddie smirks. Steve’s stomach flips and knots.

Eddie plays with his bottom lip pulling it into his mouth with his teeth before releasing it, his eyes still borrowing into Steve’s. He smiles and slowly pulls his eyes back to Gareth and says, “That dreamers often lie.”

And when Eddie starts his monologue, Steve is hypnotized. He forgets momentarily that there are other people in the room. For a second it’s as if Eddie is delivering his speech just to him. The way he dances around the stage, the way he lowers and raises his voice as if he is signing. It’s a spell. It’s magic. And the spell doesn’t break until Gareth interrupts.

The reality comes bursting right back in. Steve is suddenly hyper aware of Mike sitting beside him, of the sound of the fans lazily spinning above them, of someone coughing behind them.

And Steve is aware of the butterflies swooping in steep arcs in his stomach as he watches Mercutio.

He’s just a good actor….

But every time Mercutio steps onto the stage, Steve can’t help but stare. He watches the older boy even when other actors are talking, when all Eddie is doing is just milling around in the background. He watches Eddie’s lips as he speaks, watches the way his eyes flash and twinkle under the stage lights as he stares intently at the other actors or looks out at the audience, watches his hands when he gestures or picks up props.

And Steve is even watching when he knows he should be paying attention to Nancy. But every time he tries to center his attention anywhere else, he finds himself drawn back to Mercutio. Like a moth to the damn flame…

The lights come up and the stage is set on the street again. Only now it is lit in warm, bright light. Birds chirp with the fountain sound and extras stand in the background.

Benvolio and Mercutio enter the stage among some more extras.

And immediately Steve’s focus is glued to Eddie.

They stop beside the fountain and Benvolio opens the scene. Eddie fans himself with his hand, his lips in a full pout.

“Am I like such a fellow?” Benvolio asks.

Mercutio sighs, drops his hand dramatically. He rolls his eyes and says, “Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy, and soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved.”

A few people in the audience chuckle.

Steve smiles. Watches Eddie’s lips as he talks.

And then Tybalt walks in followed by two others. He looks at his party and points over to Mercutio and Benvolio, “Follow me close, for I will speak to them.” He crosses the stage and stops, frozen, before Mercutio, “Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you.”

Mercutio puts his hands on his hips, his fingers trailing over the hilt of a plastic sword, “And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.”

Romeo enters and the sound cuts. Turns to a low rumble. The lighting turns a rich orange. The tension in the scene is mounting.

And Eddie starts pacing. Steve thinks he looks like a predator. A wolf.

“I do protest I never injured thee, but love thee better than canst devise. Till thou shalt know the reason of my love. And so, good Capulet – which name I tender as dearly as mine own – be satisfied.” Gareth says giving a stiff bow to Tybalt.

Eddie rolls his eyes, drops his shoulders and yells, “O calm, dishonorable, vile submission! Alla stoccado carries it away.”

Steve holds his breath.

The fake sword is drawn. And in a chilling, eerie tone Eddie spits, “Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?”

Tybalt throws out his arms, “What wouldst thou have with me?”

Mercutio points his sword at him, “Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives that I mean to make bold withal, and as you shall use me hereafter, dry beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? Make haste. Lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.”

Tybalt draws his sword, “I am for you.”

Gareth steps between them and looks at Eddie whose eyes are glued to Tybalt with a wildness that makes Steve blush. Romeo begs, “Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.”

Mercutio pushes him to the side, sword still pointed at Tybalt, “Come sir, your passado.”

The lights drop to a sickening red. And Mercutio and Tybalt step into a choreographed fight.

Steve can see Eddie is trying his best to match the energy of the other actor, to make it seem justified as the battle sways out of his favor.

Steve bites his lip. His skin feels like it itches.

Tybalt stabs Mercutio and then runs off the stage.

Eddie drops, a single red light focused on him. He touches his ribs and looks at his hand as if it comes away with blood. He lets out a groan that sends shivers down Steve’s spine.

“I am hurt.”

Gareth drops to one knee beside him in the red spotlight and grabs one of Eddie’s hands.

Mercutio looks up at him and then off towards where Tybalt fled. He wrenches his hand away and groans again, louder this time.

The sound should absolutely not hit Steve in the way he feels it, but it does. Steve closes his eyes for a second and hopes that Mike is not paying attention to him, because he swears even in the dark the flush in his skin could be visible.

He opens his eyes when Eddie starts talking again. Eddie’s voice is growl, “A plague! O’ both your houses! I am sped. Is he gone, and hath nothing?!”

Benvolio steps into the spotlight, “What art thou hurt?”

Mercutio’s head lolls to the side, “Ay. Ay. A scratch, a scratch; marry tis enough. Where is my page?” A younger boy steps forward into the spot light. Mercutio points at him with a shaky hand, “Go, villain. Fetch a surgeon.”

The boy runs off.

Romeo reaches for the shaking hand again, but Mercutio snatches it back to his chest. Romeo hangs his head, “Courage, man. The hurt cannot be much.”

Mercutio’s voice drops, it’s soft, “No. Tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but tis enough. Twill serve.” He touches his ribs again and looks at his hand, “Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world.” He looks up at the red light and yells, “A plague on both your houses!” His head drops and he cries out, “Zounds a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat to scratch a man to death. A braggart, a rogue, a villain that fights by the book of arithmetic!”

Mercutio grows quiet. He looks up at Romeo. He lifts a shaking hand and cusp Romeo’s cheek.

Steve is on the edge of his seat.

With his hand still on Gareth, Eddie’s voice drops to a crushing baritone as he sorrowfully looks into Gareth’s eyes, “Why the devil came you between us?” He inches closer to Gareth, his voice thick and rough as if he were going to cry, “I was hurt under your arm.”

Steve swears he can hear Mrs. Wheeler crying but he can’t turn away from Eddie to look. Mike sighs though and he figures his assessment is correct.

Romeo grips at the hand still on his cheek, his voice is small, “I thought all for the best.”

Mercutio smirks and drops his hand from Romeo’s face. He looks up at Benvolio, “Help me into some house, Benvolio, or I shall faint.” He looks back at Romeo and whispers, “A plague on both your houses. They have made worms’ meat of me. I have it, and soundly too.”

Benvolio helps Mercutio to his feet, one arm around this middle. Mercutio’s arm slips over his shoulders.

He looks down at Romeo and hisses, “Your houses.”

And then Benvolio and Mercutio leave the red spotlight, disappearing backstage.

Gareth’s voice is loud as he starts talking to the audience. Steve looks over. Mike is looking less bored. Mrs. Wheeler is crying. And Mr. Wheeler is asleep. No one seems to notice the butterflies lingering in Steve.

Benvolio rushes back onto the stage and yells, “O Romeo, Romeo! Brave Mercutio’s dead!” The audience gasps. Benvolio stutters for a second and then adds, “That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, which too untimely here did scorn the earth.”

Steve sighs. The most interesting part of the performance was not coming back.

The rest of the play passes in a blur. When the actors all come out for a final bow Steve cannot help but stare at Eddie Munson. His hair is no longer in a loose French braid and when he bows his dark curls are tossed back in a wild fashion.

Steve’s stomach curls.

Steve stands awkwardly with Nancy’s family as they wait for her to reemerge with the rest of the cast. She comes out smiling, her stage makeup still on but now dressed in a pale pink sweater and jeans. She steps down off the stage and looks at everyone.

“Nancy!” Mrs. Wheeler gushes, “Honey, you were amazing. Who would have known we had our very own Judy Garland in the family?”

Nancy blushes and rolls her eyes, “Mom.”

“You did so good. Ted, wasn’t she amazing?” Mrs. Wheeler turns to Mr. Wheeler who looking at the floor.

He looks up lazily and says, “Yeah. Good job, Nancy.” Then he looks right back at the ground.

Mike rolls his eyes and steps forward, “Good job.”

Nancy smiles, “Thanks.”

“What did I tell you, Nance?” Steve interjects, “You are the perfect Juliet. Just wonderful.”

Nancy blinks her doe eyes at him and says, “Thank you, Steve.”

“Nancy,” Mrs. Wheeler says, “who was the boy who played Mercutio?”

“Oh, Eddie?” Nancy answers, “Wasn’t he just fantastic? He really brought everyone to life. He was offered the role of Romeo, but he really wanted to play Mercutio. And honestly, he was like born for it.”

Steve’s stomach burns with butterflies the second Eddie’s name drops into conversation. He puts his hands on his hips, hoping his face is as neutral as possible. He looks down at the dirty auditorium carpet.

“He really was incredible.” Mrs. Wheeler says, a slight sigh to her voice.

“Oh, there he is now. Eddie!” Nancy calls.

Steve jerks his head up and watches as Eddie Munson walks down the stage towards them. His hair is up in a messy bun now and he’s wearing a faded black t-shirt under a leather jacket. He has his hands tucked in the pockets of his acid wash jeans, which are skintight and Steve’s not sure how he even got his hands into the pockets. The closer he approaches Steve notices the eyeliner and gold glitter still cling to his face.

He comes down the stage steps and awkwardly stops beside Nancy. He nods and gives a small, “Nance.” He looks over at Mike, who gawks at him with a curious expression, before looking between Mrs. and Mr. Wheeler.

Mr. Wheeler gives him a completely open look of disgust.

Eddie smiles brightly at him and extends his hand, “Mr. Wheeler.”

Mr. Wheeler actively bites his tongue. Steve can see his jaw working as he quickly shakes Eddie’s hand. Mr. Wheeler sighs and walks off muttering something about going to the car and to hurry up.

Eddie smirks and then turns to Mrs. Wheeler. He extends his hand to her. She shakes his hand and warmly says, “You did a great job. You honestly had me in tears when you died.”

Eddie smiles.

Mike crosses his arms, “Mom, you were sobbing.”

Mrs. Wheeler chuckles, “Yeah, ok. You caught me. But it really was that good! You should consider pursuing acting professionally. I watch soap operas all the time and you could blow some of them out of the water even now.”

Steve thinks he sees a light blush on Eddie’s cheeks, but it quickly disappears as he mutters, “Thank you.”

Mrs. Wheeler beams and places a hand on Mike’s shoulder, “Come on Mike, let’s go before your dad has a fit. Nancy, we’ll see you at home?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be home in a bit.” Nancy smiles.

Mrs. Wheeler and Mike leave. And then Eddie turns to Steve.

He dips into a low bow and says dryly, “King Steve.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Nah, man. It’s –”

Eddie stands back up and tilts his head. He smiles, “I gotta go. But it was a pleasure. As always.” He looks at Nancy and winks, “Nancy.” He turns and just his chin out, but a smirk touches his lips, “Harrington.”

Steve watches him walk out of the auditorium, half listening as Nancy starts gushing about all the ways they can improve by the next performance.

Steve heads home after dropping Nancy off at her house. He’s greeted by silence and dark, cold rooms but he barely registers it.

He changes out of his polo and jeans, switching them for an old tee and pair of basketball shorts before flopping onto his bed. He stares up at the popcorn ceiling.

All he can think about is Eddie. Mercutio.

It’s a cruel joke. His mind keeps replaying the part when Eddie cupped Romeo’s cheek. His large hand gripping slightly at the tender flesh. Except in Steve’s mind, it’s not Gareth’s face. It’s his own.

Steve groans and throws an arm over his eyes.

This can’t be happening…

But even in the dark, his thoughts float back to Eddie pulling his lip into his mouth when their eyes met.

He gets out of bed and drops. Starts doing push-ups. Figures if he exhausts himself, he can’t think about what it would feel like to have Eddie cup his cheek and smirk at him. To have that ravaging baritone say his name. Over and over. To make Eddie moan in that pretty way but not for a high school play but because Steve drops to his knees and takes that small waist in his hands and…

Steve pushes harder against the stupid beige carpet, makes himself go faster as if the quicker he does the push-ups the faster he can outrun his thoughts.

Tears sting his eyes.

He keeps doing push-ups.

Steve wakes up in the early morning light. He rolls over onto his back and sighs. He fell asleep on his carpet. His neck is stiff, and his arms are sore.

He groans.

Steve tries to ignore the remnants of a dream. Ignores the butterflies waking up in his stomach and floating up towards his heart. The soft wings bushing against the thin membrane, trying to land and take hold. Ignores the ache in his throat, a desire to whisper a certain name out loud…

Steve goes to every performance. And Steve lies to himself, lies to everyone. But it’s only a half-lie. Of course, he’s there for Nancy. Of course, he is.

But he’s also there for Eddie…if he admits it to himself…

He’s there for the fleeting moments when Eddie looks out into the audience and meets his eyes. And every time he smirks. And every time he pulls his full bottom lip in between his teeth, releasing it in a fresh shade of red. Every time…

And Steve’s becoming obsessed with it. Dreads the final performance because that means he goes back to trying to see Eddie in the halls, which is harder than Steve realized. It means waiting for one of Eddie’s outbursts in the lunchroom and trying hard to remember to breathe, to look annoyed. It means trying not to act like he doesn’t feel adrift when he kisses Nancy instead of feeling full of light like he once did. Before this damn play…

This was way longer than I thought it would ever be. There will be a part 2 at some point. Thank you for reading!

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