Kiss Me-Chapter Twenty Four
Title: Kiss Me
Rating: PG/NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, never happened, Shakespeare wrote the good stuff, not me.
Summary: Ville and Bam go to school together. They're not friends. They don't even know each other. But when they get roped into Romeo and Juliet, sparks fly!
They had rehearsals the next day. As usual, Ville was sitting there, early. He was sucking on another hard candy, and Bam could tell he was rolling it over his tongue, tasting it, loving it.
His heart leapt into his mouth, and he tried his best to swallow it down. Now was not the time, he told himself. It would never been the time. He had to get over this. There was no way he could allow himself to feel this way. He’d have to lift his chin and work through it.
If only, Bam thought to himself, swallowing hard as he went and took a seat next to Ville. The older boy turned and gave him a happy, friendly sort of smile. The skater had come to notice that he only smiled like that when he was around.
If only you were a girl. If only you were your sister.
“Hey,” Ville reached into his pocket and held out a hard candy. Bam accepted it with mumbled thanks. The older boy frowned. Bam was never this sad.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s just that---.” Before he could say anything, the stream of boys came in. DeWitt came rushing in after him.
“Okay, gents, let’s get down to work. We have a lot to do today, and not much time to do it. Let’s all take our places on stage. I want to start in Act Two, Scene Two today. Ville, Bam, let’s hustle. It won’t kill you.” DeWitt chuckled.
The younger boy could only close his eyes briefly before going to stand on his mark. Ville took his.
“He jests at scars that never felt a wound.” Here he paused, seeing Ville in the imaginary window.
“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. Be not her maid, since she is envious; her vestal livery is but sick and green. And none but fools do wear it. Cast if off!” Bam could stare at nothing but Ville, standing there across the stage.
‘It is my lady, oh, it is my love! She speaks yet she says nothing, what of that? Her eye discourses, I will answer it. I am too bold, ‘tis not to me she speaks. Two of the fairest stars in all the Heaven having some business do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres ‘till they return. What if here eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those scars! As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in Heaven would through the airy region stream so bright, that birds would sing and think it were not night. See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! Oh, that I were the glove upon that hand! That I might touch that cheek!”
Once again, he was saying it like he felt it. Bam did feel it. And though if anyone asked, he would say it were Violet he was thinking of, it was Ville. It was always Ville.
He did want to touch Ville’s cheeks. He wanted it all. He wanted it so bad, it made him sick.
Heartsick. It rang through his head. That’s what April would call it. April. He needed to talk to her. Bam shook his head and tried to focus on the play.
“Ay, me!” Juliet/Ville sighed.
“She speaks! Oh, speak again, bright angel! For thou art as glorious to this night, being o’er my head as is a winged messenger of Heaven, unto the white-upturned wondering eyes of mortals that fall back to gaze on him, when he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds and sails upon the bosom of air.” Oh God. This couldn’t be true. This could be anything.
“All right, cut there!” DeWitt was reaching into his pocket where his cell phone vibrated.
“I need to take this call. Fifteen minute break, everyone.” He turned and hurried out.
**
“Bam,” Ville crossed the stage. He gripped his friend’s shoulders. “I really think that we need to talk.”
“Yeah,” Bam agreed. Oh, if only he knew how right he was.
“I like you.” Ville blurted. Bam froze, feeling like he was choking. He shook his head.
“I-I’m a boy, Ville.”
“Don’t you think I know that!”
“That’s why you can’t like me.” He said softly.
“You mean that’s why you can’t like me.” Ville sounded disappointed.
“What about your sister? What about Violet?” Bam asked, feeling frantic. Everything was happening way too fast.
“Listen, I really need to talk to you about her, too. She’s---.” DeWitt entered before Ville could finish.
“Okay, guys, let’s pick it up! Pick it up right where we left off. There’s so much to do and so little time in which to do it. Places, places.”
Sadly, the older boy trudged back to his place. So close, he thought. I was so close. Now I’ll never be able to tell him! I can never pluck up that sort of courage again. He glared at DeWitt.
DeWitt pretended not to notice.
“Now!” he commanded. For a guidance counselor, DeWitt sure could be strict. “And… Action!”
“Oh, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?” Ville began, his heart heavy in his chest.
“Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.” I’ll be Violet forever, he thought. If it would make you love me, I’d be Violet.
“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?” Bam recited.
“’Tis but thy name that is my enemy, thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. Oh, be some other name! What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee take all myself.”
He’d be the same, Bam thought. Even if he were a girl. I know that. I understand that.
“I take thee at thy word! Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized. Henceforth, I never will be Romeo.” His heart lifted. The answer was so clear to him now.
How will I tell Violet? He thought. How will I make her understand? I can’t hurt her.
“What man art thou that thus bescreened in night so stumblest on my counsel?” Ville/Juliet demanded.
“By a name, I know not how to tell thee who I am; my name, dear saint, is hateful to myself. Because it is an enemy to thee, Had I it written, I would tear the word.” Bam/Romeo replied.
Oh God, Ville thought. He’s so… Soulful. What is it? What’s come over him?
“My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of that tongue’s utterance, yet I know the sound. Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?”
“Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.”
“How camest thou hither? Tell me! And wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb. And the place death, considering who thou art, if any of my kinsmen find thee.”
“With love’s light wings did I o’er-perch these walls. For stony limits cannot hold love out. And what love can do, that dares love attempt, therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.”
Ville smiled then, and Bam smiled back.
“Okay, guy.” DeWitt’s phone was ringing again. “We’ll call it good for the day. Good job, good job!” he praised.
Bam stood on the stage, watching everyone leaving. When the room was empty, he turned, wanting to speak to Ville. But of course, the stage across from him was empty.
Rating: PG/NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, never happened, Shakespeare wrote the good stuff, not me.
Summary: Ville and Bam go to school together. They're not friends. They don't even know each other. But when they get roped into Romeo and Juliet, sparks fly!
They had rehearsals the next day. As usual, Ville was sitting there, early. He was sucking on another hard candy, and Bam could tell he was rolling it over his tongue, tasting it, loving it.
His heart leapt into his mouth, and he tried his best to swallow it down. Now was not the time, he told himself. It would never been the time. He had to get over this. There was no way he could allow himself to feel this way. He’d have to lift his chin and work through it.
If only, Bam thought to himself, swallowing hard as he went and took a seat next to Ville. The older boy turned and gave him a happy, friendly sort of smile. The skater had come to notice that he only smiled like that when he was around.
If only you were a girl. If only you were your sister.
“Hey,” Ville reached into his pocket and held out a hard candy. Bam accepted it with mumbled thanks. The older boy frowned. Bam was never this sad.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s just that---.” Before he could say anything, the stream of boys came in. DeWitt came rushing in after him.
“Okay, gents, let’s get down to work. We have a lot to do today, and not much time to do it. Let’s all take our places on stage. I want to start in Act Two, Scene Two today. Ville, Bam, let’s hustle. It won’t kill you.” DeWitt chuckled.
The younger boy could only close his eyes briefly before going to stand on his mark. Ville took his.
“He jests at scars that never felt a wound.” Here he paused, seeing Ville in the imaginary window.
“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. Be not her maid, since she is envious; her vestal livery is but sick and green. And none but fools do wear it. Cast if off!” Bam could stare at nothing but Ville, standing there across the stage.
‘It is my lady, oh, it is my love! She speaks yet she says nothing, what of that? Her eye discourses, I will answer it. I am too bold, ‘tis not to me she speaks. Two of the fairest stars in all the Heaven having some business do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres ‘till they return. What if here eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those scars! As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in Heaven would through the airy region stream so bright, that birds would sing and think it were not night. See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! Oh, that I were the glove upon that hand! That I might touch that cheek!”
Once again, he was saying it like he felt it. Bam did feel it. And though if anyone asked, he would say it were Violet he was thinking of, it was Ville. It was always Ville.
He did want to touch Ville’s cheeks. He wanted it all. He wanted it so bad, it made him sick.
Heartsick. It rang through his head. That’s what April would call it. April. He needed to talk to her. Bam shook his head and tried to focus on the play.
“Ay, me!” Juliet/Ville sighed.
“She speaks! Oh, speak again, bright angel! For thou art as glorious to this night, being o’er my head as is a winged messenger of Heaven, unto the white-upturned wondering eyes of mortals that fall back to gaze on him, when he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds and sails upon the bosom of air.” Oh God. This couldn’t be true. This could be anything.
“All right, cut there!” DeWitt was reaching into his pocket where his cell phone vibrated.
“I need to take this call. Fifteen minute break, everyone.” He turned and hurried out.
**
“Bam,” Ville crossed the stage. He gripped his friend’s shoulders. “I really think that we need to talk.”
“Yeah,” Bam agreed. Oh, if only he knew how right he was.
“I like you.” Ville blurted. Bam froze, feeling like he was choking. He shook his head.
“I-I’m a boy, Ville.”
“Don’t you think I know that!”
“That’s why you can’t like me.” He said softly.
“You mean that’s why you can’t like me.” Ville sounded disappointed.
“What about your sister? What about Violet?” Bam asked, feeling frantic. Everything was happening way too fast.
“Listen, I really need to talk to you about her, too. She’s---.” DeWitt entered before Ville could finish.
“Okay, guys, let’s pick it up! Pick it up right where we left off. There’s so much to do and so little time in which to do it. Places, places.”
Sadly, the older boy trudged back to his place. So close, he thought. I was so close. Now I’ll never be able to tell him! I can never pluck up that sort of courage again. He glared at DeWitt.
DeWitt pretended not to notice.
“Now!” he commanded. For a guidance counselor, DeWitt sure could be strict. “And… Action!”
“Oh, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?” Ville began, his heart heavy in his chest.
“Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.” I’ll be Violet forever, he thought. If it would make you love me, I’d be Violet.
“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?” Bam recited.
“’Tis but thy name that is my enemy, thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. Oh, be some other name! What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee take all myself.”
He’d be the same, Bam thought. Even if he were a girl. I know that. I understand that.
“I take thee at thy word! Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized. Henceforth, I never will be Romeo.” His heart lifted. The answer was so clear to him now.
How will I tell Violet? He thought. How will I make her understand? I can’t hurt her.
“What man art thou that thus bescreened in night so stumblest on my counsel?” Ville/Juliet demanded.
“By a name, I know not how to tell thee who I am; my name, dear saint, is hateful to myself. Because it is an enemy to thee, Had I it written, I would tear the word.” Bam/Romeo replied.
Oh God, Ville thought. He’s so… Soulful. What is it? What’s come over him?
“My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of that tongue’s utterance, yet I know the sound. Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?”
“Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.”
“How camest thou hither? Tell me! And wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb. And the place death, considering who thou art, if any of my kinsmen find thee.”
“With love’s light wings did I o’er-perch these walls. For stony limits cannot hold love out. And what love can do, that dares love attempt, therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.”
Ville smiled then, and Bam smiled back.
“Okay, guy.” DeWitt’s phone was ringing again. “We’ll call it good for the day. Good job, good job!” he praised.
Bam stood on the stage, watching everyone leaving. When the room was empty, he turned, wanting to speak to Ville. But of course, the stage across from him was empty.