Editing DbS (section)

== NINE ==
⚇乂⚇ 

'''THE “I HAVE A DREAM” SPEECH BUT WITH MORE BLOOD''' 

AFTER A COUPLE SECONDS, BENVOLIO good-naturedly elbowed Romeo. “Hey, you know what they say. ‘When you’re dumped by one girl, you’ll pick up another one in a few seconds.’” 

Romeo continued to look downcast, staring at the ground.  

“Who says that?” I asked, giving a laugh at Romeo’s cousin.   

“You know. They,” said Benvolio shrugging as if it were obvious.  

“Yes, but who are they?”  

“They. You know, the people who come up with sayings,” said Benvolio rolling his eyes right back. Then, to Romeo, “See? He agrees—” I rolled my eyes at this “—and besides. The beautiful Rosaline whom you are ''madly'' in love with is going to be there. When you compare her to other girls, you’re going to be like ‘Why was I ever in love with her?’ Our problem will be solved.” 

I thought a moment. ''Am I part of “our”? Or did he mean Romeo and himself..? Maybe it’s better if I wasn’t part of “our”. Still…''

Romeo sighed and rubbed his eyes which had been leaking a steady waterfall of tears for the last thirty seconds. “If my eyes were ever to lay on a lady and decide she were beautiful, I hope the tears they produce turn into fire because my eyes would be liars. There has never been someone more beautiful than Rosa to live on this earth.” 

Benvolio gave a sigh. Evidently, he and Romeo had discussed this topic before—I’d assume before Romeo’s breakup. Giving up on debating with the immovable Romeo, Benvolio sighed. “Continue thinking that, Cousin.”   

I looked at the sky which was increasingly getting pinker. “Not that I mind this conversation,” I began, glancing to Romeo who gave no reaction “but shouldn’t we be going? We’re going to be late. And, Romeo? I’m sure you’ll find someone else.” I tried for a reassuring smile. 

Romeo gave another long sigh. “Fine, we should go if it’s as close to sunset as you predict.” 

Benvolio gave Romeo a triumphant grin. “That’s it! You’ll see—I’ll show you a truly beautiful girl!”  

Romeo raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m not going with you guys because I believe you’ll show me a more beautiful girl, I’m going because I want to see Rosa—my true love forever.” 

I stifled a smile at Romeo’s firmness in the matter, remembering Juliet. I wondered what he’d say when he saw her. 

“C’mon, then, chaps!” said Benvolio, using a word that was after his time. He hooked an arm around Romeo’s shoulders, then mine, and we started off like the three musketeers. 

<nowiki>----------</nowiki> 

On the way to the Capulets’ house (ahem, ''castle''), we met up with someone called Mercutio, who, come to find out, was one of Romeo’s closest buddies and he was also related to the prince, which was more nerve-racking than I had originally thought it would be. And I think he knew. 

I mean, he did look similar to the prince- same piercing blue eyes, same nose. But his hair was blondish-red, a dull color in comparison to the prince’s bright ginger. Mercutio was distantly related to him- some sort of removed cousin or something. I don’t know. But he joked around and laughed like a normal dude, so he seemed okay. 

Mercutio was pretty good at wordplay (as I found out during a conversation we had about whether or not the sky was truly blue or whether it was simply blue because of the way the sun shined on it, like it was pink and orange during sunsets or if it was the natural color) and he was pretty funny. I mean, I didn’t really know him all that well through our one conversation, but he seemed like an okay guy.  

We finally reached the house of the Capulets. It was massive and stone as castles should be. I blinked, shielding my eyes from the reddish-orange sun in the sky that loomed behind one of the larger steeples. Before we entered the gates, Benvolio handed each of us a masquerade mask. Mercutio smirked when he saw me shielding my eyes from the sunset and whispered to me, “The sky is blue because of the sun.” Then he walked off to stand beside Romeo before I could take action against this statement.  

“It’s a party, after all,” said Benvolio shrugging and giving Mercutio a mask. Then he handed me a mask that looked to be the face of a dragon. It was of a tough material that felt rather sturdy, and it wasn’t the easiest to bend. ''Couldn’t to dress up to blend in,'' I thought before slipping on the mask and walking beneath the large portcullis, the three close beside me.

I took a glance to Mercutio who was wearing a brightly colored mask with greens and blues and a few jewels (whether they were fake or not, I wasn’t sure. If they were real, these were probably some expensive costumes). Underneath the mask, I could see his eyes shining with excitement, as if ready to fight someone on the double with a smile spread wide across his face. Benvolio was, meanwhile, wearing a mask with pinks, purples, greens, and oranges scattered about. With his hat on (it was similar to Captain Hook’s but was blue with a white feather out of the top of it), he looked something like one of the three musketeers, and with his rapier (that is, the long sword that I mentioned earlier) at his side, he fit the look. Romeo stood near the back of our group, glaring at the ground, holding a yellow, orange, and bright red mask, barely not letting it not fall out of his loose grasp. 

The dark-haired boy looked up from his angry staring contest with the ground. “I don’t want a mask. Give me a torch instead. I’m not going to dance.” 

Mercutio sighed, realizing Romeo was going to be difficult. “Romeo, you’ve got to dance. Come on, it’ll be fun.” 

Romeo shook his head. “I don’t want to be a masker. Just let me carry a torch.” 

In case you’re wondering, what Romeo means is that he does not want to perform in front of people. Let me explain. At parties in Shakespeare’s time, there were often people called maskers that performed a dance they invented. Romeo wanted to carry a torch (no, not a flashlight, they weren’t invented back then) instead. A torch was… well, a torch was a torch. There were also people who would drum during the dance so that the dancers would have a beat, but Romeo had no musical talent that I knew of, so he wanted to carry the torch.  

Mercutio rolled his eyes. “Listen, Romeo, you’re a lover. So, take Cupid’s wings and fly higher than any normal man and use those wings to dance.” 

Romeo shook his head again. “No, Mercutio. I don’t want to. You’ve got dancing shoes on, their soles are flexible and rubbery. I don’t have mine on, my soul is filled with lead and not at all flexible. Besides, my soul will sink.” 

I almost told Romeo that Tybalt would probably sink because, as pretty much everyone in the play presumed, he had a heart of ice, but then decided against it as I wasn’t sure if the discovery had been made yet. 

“If you sink, you’re only dragging love down,” Mercutio replied quickly, causing me to give a slight chuckle at this conversation. Romeo gave me a slightly insulted look while Benvolio gave me a look like ''are you seriously doing this right now''. Meanwhile, Mercutio was glaring daggers at me, although I had no idea what he was thinking.  

I quickly killed off the smile, as to keep from being possibly smacked by Mercutio who was glaring at me for merely chuckling at Romeo’s dilemma. “Romeo, if love is a sickness, you shouldn’t need a cure. After all, love is a gift, and the love you have for Rosa is rare. If you let your soul be dragged down by love’s sickness you’re going to never want to be cured. However, if you let your soul get dragged down by lovesickness, you’re going to think you don’t want a cure, but it will drag on, causing you to want a cure, but because it will have lasted so long you won’t want one, declaring it to be normal because you’ve had it for so long. So, cure the lovesickness and find someone else to love so you won’t want a cure,” I said, confusing myself after the first sentence, but confident I had said it right. Shakespeare said that somewhere, right? 

Romeo blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he said unexpectedly.  So I ''had'' said it right!

Benvolio gave a relieved smile, glad Romeo was coming to his senses. “See, Romeo? Hamlet is right. You’ve been dragged down by lovesickness. You need to find a cure right now or you will never be cured.” 

Romeo frowned. “Fine,” he moped, sounding like Eeyore… but with less tail-losing and more depression.  

“Great!” exclaimed Mercutio, having switched from glaring at me to grinning at Romeo.  

Romeo frowned uncertainly. “You know, it’s probably not a great idea to go to this party.” 

Mercutio frowned. “Why not?” 

“Because… I had a dream.” 

“A dream. Oh yay,” said Mercutio sarcastically. “What, were we chased by three evil witches screaming at the top of their lungs ‘bubble, bubble, toil and trouble’?” asked he, rolling his eyes. 

“No, I had a dream that something bad is going to happen tonight,” said Romeo, crossing his arms and handing Benvolio his mask.  

Whilst Romeo was jabbering to Mercutio, Benvolio was trying to figure out where to put the mask. He had no bag (it escaped me as to how he had hidden the masks as it was) so he was looking around for a place to put it.  

“Here,” said I, holding out my bag for Benvolio to put the mask in. He nodded appreciatively, putting the mask into the bag. I buttoned the bag closed and tuned in to hear Mercutio say, “I also had a dream.” 

Romeo raised an eyebrow at this. “And that dream was…?” 

“Oh, my dream said that dreams often lie,” said Mercutio shrugging nonchalantly. Beneath his casualness, I could sense a smirk. 

Romeo raised both of his eyebrows in an ‘I don’t believe you, but this is probably a debate worth having’ way. “Well, dreams happen while dreamers dream about the truth.”  


Benvolio cleared his throat while Mercutio was in the middle of explaining the “top ten reasons I’m right and you’re wrong” to Romeo. He continued to talk, and finally Benvolio broke the silence. “MERCUTIO!” he shouted, getting his attention. The calm shell of Benvolio had been broken. 

“Hmm?” said Mercutio, having been interrupted, a little perturbed at this, but ready to have yet another debate.  

“Let’s go,” said Benvolio, starting off, leaving no room for argument.  

“We’re gonna get there early,” muttered Romeo under his breath. 

“Nonsense,” retorted Mercutio, hearing him. “It’ll be fine. Like I said, it’ll be fine, and everything will be fine.” 

“Plus,” with a glimmer in his eye, Benvolio added, “You’ll meet a new girl. Someone more beautiful than Rosa, I’m sure of it.” 

Romeo wilted upon hearing Rosaline’s name, but continued on, trailing behind Mercutio and his cousin.  

“It’ll be all fine,” said I, trying to ease Romeo’s nerves as I walked beside him. 

“I just have a horrible feeling,” Romeo said shaking his head, trying to shake off the worry clouding around in his head, “that this is going to end in my death.” He paused a moment, letting that sink into all of our heads, Mercutio rolling his eyes and Benvolio giving a little “hmph”.  

“But you know what, forge on ahead, whoever gets me killed, my blood, my blood is on your hands! All of it! None of it is on my hands! None! Nope! Zip! And if anyone says that my blood is on my hands they’ll be—uh—” 

“Romeo?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Play the drum,” said Mercutio, reaching where the maskers usually played and danced. An anxious look from Romeo. “It’ll go fine!” 

Mentally preparing myself for this dance, I walked on forward, to where a crowd was starting to stare at the four, oddly-masked party crashers.