Prologue - Veronaville: Part Four
In just three days Veronaville will change forever.
Content warning: This story contains mature themes and may not be suitable for minors. For this chapter, adult references and sexual references.
Saturday, 2.30am - P.U.R.E, Downtown
Bianca didn’t know how long they’d been on the dance floor, but knew it must have been several hours. She smiled thinking how proud her brother was going to be of her for letting loose for once. Her attention was only brought from the music and her dance partner when she felt her phone vibrate. She answered it but couldn’t hear it over the music. She yelled at the caller to please hold on and politely excused herself from Kent to take the call outside.
“Sorry, I should be able to hear you now,” she advised the person over the phone.
“Is this Bianca Monty, daughter of Patrizio and Isabella Monty?” the caller asked.
“Yes.”
“You are also the sister of Antonio Monty, correct?”
“Yes. Why? Who is this?” Bianca asked, beginning to worry.
The caller was in the police force and stated his name and rank and proceeded to express his condolences.
“What,” Bianca stammered, “Why? What’s happened? Has someone been hurt?”
The Police officer was silent before asking her whereabouts.
Bianca felt her blood run cold, “A friend and I are Downtown. We have been since around ten. What in the world has happened?”
He knew there was no way in which she could have been in the vicinity of Veronaville and not be aware of the events that had occured, as long as she was telling the truth. He made a note to question her and her ‘friend’, but it seemed highly unlikely they she had any part in the violence that had shaken the town tonight.
He was silent for another moment before apologising profusely, telling her he was under the impression she was aware of the night’s events. Bianca, burdened by fear and necessity, cut him off, “Look, I’m sorry, but what events? Why won’t you tell me what has happened.”
He asked if she was able to proceed to the central police station to which she once again apologised but bluntly replied that she wasn’t going anywhere until someone told her what was going on. Besides being strongly against protocol, he didn’t want to give her this news over the phone. Despite his continued requests, Bianca held her ground before he finally proceeded to tell her, as gently as he could that her parents Patrizio and Isabella, her brother Antonio, her nephews Romeo, Mercutio and Benedick, and neice Beatrice were deceased.
“No, there must be some mistake,” she told him.
“Again madam, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“No, I don’t understand. What’s happened? Why won’t you tell me what’s actually happened?” she cried in frustration.
“Miss Monty, I’m sorry to say that,” the officer paused, “your family appears to have been executed.” The police officer sighed, the events of the evening had already been leaked to the media and in the short time he had been on the phone to this woman he knew she would insist on knowing why. “We believe it was in retaliation to the attack on the Summerdream residence.”
“What attack?” she almost screamed.
“The was a fire at the Summerdream residence caused by an improvised petrol bomb. The family and their guests were killed.” He didn’t tell her that her brother was believed to be the culprit.
Bianca shut her phone without even ending the call. She had to tell Kent. She turned to the door to find him waiting for her. “Is everything okay, you were gone a while,” he asked.
“No,” she said quietly.
“A policeman just called. My family’s dead and,” her breath hitched and she let out a sob, “yours is too.”
“What? No. What are you talking about?” Kent stammered.
“There was a fire, at the engagement party. I’m so sorry Kent,” she told him.
“No, I’m just going to call them. Everyone’s fine, someone’s made a mistake,” he stated.
“Kent, please,” Bianca begged, but he was already on the phone.
The seconds ticked by until the phone at his place rang out. “We have to get home,” he said shakily.
Bianca could only nod her head in agreement.
Kent pulled her into his arms. “We’ll be okay,” he promised her.
Bianca wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince but needed to believe him all the same.
Saturday, 2.45am - Capp Manor, East Veronaville
Hermia’s first thought as she came across the prone form of her grandfather on the couch was that he looked restless even in sleep. The empty bottles didn’t escape her attention either.
She switched on the lamp and gently woke him. By now Bottom had caught up with her and was hesitantly standing behind her.
Her grandfather raised his aging body into an upright position and rubbed his eyes wearily. She wondered if she would be expected to apologise for waking him, because after the night she had had, she sure as hell wasn’t going to.
As his eyes focused, he assumed he must be dreaming. He had been informed in no uncertain terms the Summerdream’s place had been decimated. There was a small child who asked for the bathroom. The young woman in front of him directed her down the hall.
He couldn’t understand what he saw. While the rational part of his brain told him he must be dreaming, part of him couldn’t help but hope, “Hermia?” he whispered.
“Hoping for someone else,” she snapped.
Suddenly his conscious didn’t seem so vague. This was real. No hallucination could have the same attitude his granddaughter did.
He jumped up from the couch and pulled her into his arms. She was alive. His sarcastic ballsy granddaughter had survived.
He held her tightly until she started to wriggle and he released her. “Not that the completely unprecedented affection isn’t appreciated, it’s just that I’m a bit sore. Nearly dying and all,” Hermia explained.
Consort was about to tell her off for her attitude and disrespect but quickly remembered how close he had come to loosing it forever. He also acknowledged that nothing she had said was untrue.
He looked at her injured face, taking stock of the large burn to her left cheek and swollen right side of her face. “Has this been attended to?” he asked gently.
“Yeah,” she snorted, “mostly ‘superficial’ my arse, it hurts like hell.”
“What happened?” he asked, again refraining from scolding her on her language. “I was told the place was completely destroyed, that everyone had...” he trailed off. Now was not the time to mention all the family they had lost. Not when Hermia was in front of him, alive and safe. And it was becoming increasingly clear she certainly hadn’t lost any of her spark either. He had always tried hard not play favourites with his grandchildren, but he had always admired Hermia’s gutsiness. For the first time it occurred to him that he may have favoured Juliette and Tybalt to compensate.
“It was destroyed Gramps,” she stated. “It’s a pile of rubble. I was outside when it happened. Bottom wanted to show me the gazebo. The force of the explosion threw us clear across the yard and into the forest.”
“The police called me, they said there were no survivors,” Consort said softly.
“Yeah, I know,” Hermia chuckled dryly. “They nearly pissed themselves when me and Bottom came through the back of the yard.”
“Bottom and I,” he corrected.
Hermia ignored him, lost in her own thoughts. “I woke up to her shaking me. I hit the ground really hard. She said she’d been trying to wake me for ages.”
“She must have received quiet a fright,” he agreed.
“I’d be dead without her. If she hadn’t dragged me outside, I would have been inside with everyone else. I,” she paused, realisation shaking her to her core, “I would have died like everyone else.”
“She has no one Grandpa,” she said quietly.
Consort could see where the conversation was heading immediately. She, like her mother, had an unwavering sense of compassion that he was glad he himself was not burdened with, “Hermia, it has been a long night for everyone, can this not wait?” he asked.
“No, listen,” she said forcefully. “She’s the reason I’m alive. She should stay with us. No, she needs to stay with us.”
She heard Bottom approaching before hovering at the doorway.
“Grandpa,” Hermia pressed. She knew she couldn’t leave Bottom. Not just because she had inadvertently saved her life, not even because she was Puck’s sister, but because she had promised her forever.
Consort took in the small elfin child in the doorway. He decided taking in the orphan would not only appease his granddaughter but may even help ease the heavy burden of his earlier decisions regarding the Monty children. “She can stay.” he told her.
“Really?” Hermia asked shocked. She pointed to the empty bottles, “how much have you had?”
Consort turned to Bottom, “Is that what you want. To live here?”
Bottom thought she was going to have to go back to the orphanage. She couldn’t remember it but Puck had told her it was for kids who were unwanted and that they were better off not being there. She didn’t want to be unwanted and nodded her head in response to Consort’s question.
“That settles it then,” he said conclusively, “She can take Juliette’s room for the time being.”
“Thankyou,” Hermia whispered.
He looked at the both of them, “Welcome home,” he said quietly.
Saturday, 3.05am - 111 Stratford Strip, West Veronaville
Bianca and Kent had taken separate taxis home from Downtown to reach their respective sides of the Veronaville as quickly as possible.
Bianca felt like she was dreaming. Everything was fuzzy even thought she could remember the phone call with perfect clarity. Rationally she understood what the police had told her. She understood that seven members of the Monty family, Patrizio, Isabella, Antonio, Romeo, Mercutio, Benedick and Beatrice, were no longer alive. They had each been shot, executed, they had told her. But it didn’t make sense; she just couldn’t wrap her head around it.
But as she exited the taxi and saw her house, realisation hit her with such a force she nearly fell over. This wasn’t a scene from a movie. This was her home, or at least had been. Now it was a crime scene, closed off with caution tape and surrounded by police cars. She ran towards the house panicking, she had to warn Antonio; Benedict and Beatrice couldn’t see their home like this. Then she remembered he was dead. Benedict and Beatrice were too. They would never see this or anything else ever again. She thought of her poor mother, who lived for her children and grandchildren. But she was dead too. So was her father. And Romeo. And Mercutio. She realised the only person to mourn them was her. The thought made her double over in pain.
Saturday 3.10am - 1/7 Chorus Court, East Veronaville
As Kent got out of the taxi, he could not only see the vast space where the Summerdream place had stood but could smell the smoke lingering in the air. He was about to go inside when he saw lights on across the road at the family Manor. For a brief moment he felt hope. Perhaps Regan and Cornwall were visiting Consort, which would explain why no one had answered the phone before. But as he looked towards the smouldering remains down the road, he knew no one could have survived whatever had happened here tonight.
Over the next hour he learnt that his father had not attended the party, but that miraculously, his niece Hermia and the youngest Summerdream child had survived the inferno. Kent was still grappling with the immense loss of life tonight, while at the same time extraordinarily grateful. He and his father had never been close. His sisters had always been favoured as the strong and confronting women of a matriarchal family, and he barely knew his niece. But they were alive. He had family that were alive, unlike Bottom Summerdream or Bianca Monty. His heart ached as he thought of Bianca and wished he knew how he could possibly comfort her.
As he walked back through the door of his place, and now only his, he realised, the phone rang. He tentatively answered to hear Bianca apologising for calling so late.
He told her not to be silly, and asked how she was holding up, and that if she knew anything more about what had happened. She tearfully told him that it was clearly an ordered hit; each member of her family had died from a single gunshot wound. She wondered out loud what sort of person could order the extinction of an entire family, children and all. Kent shuddered as he realised the only person he could think of was his very own father. He kept that thought to himself.
She asked about his family and he told her that incredibly he still had his father and niece. She told him she was happy for him and then apologised, declaring how insensitive it sounded considering all the family he had lost tonight. He told her not to worry, he perfectly understood, and asked where she was going to go next. She sobbed that she didn’t know, maybe a hotel, she couldn’t bare being in a house where her family had just been murdered. He told her she would stay with him. She told him she couldn’t possibly, not after everything he had been through. He reminded her that she had been through it too and that he would see her soon.
Saturday 4.40am - 1/7 Chorus Court, East Veronaville
“Are you sure it’s okay I’m here?” Bianca asked.
“Of course,” he told her firmly
“I just can’t believe it. None of this seems real. Three hours ago we were dancing to Brittany,” she said sadly. She shook her head and sobbed, “I just don’t understand how we’re expected to get through this.”
Kent pulled her in to his arms, “I told you we’ll be okay and we will be. We’ll get through this. Together,” he promised her.
“I just don’t know what to do,” she confessed.
“You can stay as long as you like,” he told her sincerely. “I don’t want you to be alone.”
She held him tighter, whispering his name.
“I don’t want to be alone,” he softly added.
The sun still hadn’t risen when the two of them started redressing in their pyjamas.
Bianca had been convinced Kent was gay, but when he kissed her, softly at first, then more passionately, she responded. The violence and grief of the night had left her feeling frightened and alone but Kent had made her feel comforted and safe and loved. But now, in the almost light of day, she felt more than a little confused.
Kent rubbed his eyes; he was tired and exhausted, physically and emotionally.
While part of him was soothed by the intimacy of the act, the possible damage he had done to his friendship with Bianca was already weighing heavily on his mind. He knew it had been a knee jerk reaction, a desperate attempt to starve off the impending grief he could feel lapping at his entire being, but he liked men! What on earth had he done initiating sex with a woman who had just lost her entire family?
“Kent,” she began quietly.
“I have no right to ask, but can we talk later? Can we just try and get some rest?” he asked.
She nodded and silently slipped back under the covers.
They would talk in the morning and he could only hope she understood and forgave him. The thought of facing the months ahead without her by his side caused his heart to ache. He knew he cared for her deeply, even if she wasn’t his type, so to speak, he couldn’t bear the thought of not having her in his life. Lying back under the covers, he made sure Bianca was sleeping peacefully and holding her close, too found relief in slumber.
Author's Note: Regrettably the next update won't be as quick as this one, but for the time being, bid farewell to Veronaville as our next destination is Strangetown!