by Jade Bitters
Chapter Seventeen: Act Four, Scene One
“Thursday?” asked Lawrence with a frown as the espresso machine hissed.
“That’s right,” said Paris. “That’s what Stratford wants, and I’m in a bit of a rush myself.”
“You say you haven’t talked to Juliet about this?” asked Lawrence. “That doesn’t sound like a recipe for anything but trouble. No...I don’t like this plan. Isn’t it a bit, well...unethical?””
“She’s in no state to know what to do, what with Ty’s assault,” said Paris, sipping at the dregs of his latte. “I haven’t had the chance to talk to her about the incubator. A startup...that isn’t the kind of thing people think about when they’re mourning a loved one. Now, William’s beside himself over her depression. He’s being smart, you know, having her transfer sooner rather than later. Once she has time to relax on the island, she’ll get over Ty and all this drama. The drama’s the number one reason I don’t come back here more often. If she had some people around her, other smart kids with dreams and ambitions and talent, she’d get over this. That’s the reason William’s rushing this.”
I wish I wasn’t involved, fuck, I wish I wasn’t involved, thought Lawrence as he concentrated on pouring the steamed milk in a rose pattern in the paper cup wrapped in a cardboard wrapper, which he passed across the counter to Paris. “Look, there’s the lady of the hour.”
“I’m happy to finally have a chance to talk with you one-on-one,” said Paris. “Especially given that we’ll have a very close relationship shortly.”
“That may be,” said Juliet. “After Thursday. After the transfer.”
“I’m going to miss you,” said Lawrence, fiddling with the thing in his pocket that had been distracting him ever since he’d got it, burning a hole in his pocket the way that cash never had. “Sir, a moment alone with Juliet?”
“Of course, goodbyes are important. Closure is important,” said Paris, turning back to his newspaper. God, the feeling of a real paper newspaper in his hands, as hot off the presses as it could be. Yes, it was the SF Gate, but by God, it was something real in a city of bits that could byte. “Juliet, I’ll see you on Thursday.” Paris took Juliet’s hand and shook it firmly. “Until then, goodbye. This handshake should serve as practice for Thursday.” Paris took his paper and coffee outside, where of course, a cab was already waiting.
“Shut the door, Lawrence,” begged Juliet. “And once you do, come here, and we can mourn the loss of our mutual friend. This situation has gotten out of head: there’s nothing we can do to make everything go back to normal.”
Lawrence held Juliet’s hand in his and looked forward at the murals on the walls of the café that he’d built himself, from almost nothing except bridge loans from people in his community and money he’d scraped together. “Juliet...I know. I know, and I can’t give you an easy answer. I heard about the event on Thursday, and that you’re either transferring or you’ll probably be blacklisted too.”
“I can’t believe even you’ve heard about this, no offense,” said Juliet, squeezing his hand harder. “And that...you don’t have a solution. You always no what to do, and I have no idea what to do.” Juliet pulled a USB drive out of her pocket and pressed it into Lawrence’s hand. “And I can solve the problem, with the files on this drive. I fell in love with Romeo. You saw our love bloom. And you were supposed to help us leave this place...so I’ll do it. I’ll delete the copies of all my work, using one of the very programs I created, which I coded from hand like a god. Give me advice, Lawrence, or I’ll do it. I’ll take it all down with me, every last file. You’re so much more mature than anyone in this situation...even the executives. I have two choices to make, and I’m making that choice with this drive. The code will live, or the code will die. I will make my own solution, even if you can’t come up with one. And either help me out, or let me do what I have to do.”
“Wait, Juliet, I know another way,” promised Lawrence. “But desperate times call for desperate measures, and if you’ve already made up your mind to give up everything you’ve created rather than transfer to Paris’s company...you’d be willing to try something a bit unorthodox, wouldn’t you? You can look between the lines, the lines of code, and use the solution I provide...if you dare.”
“Lawrence, you know me,” said Juliet. “Whatever you suggest I do, I’ll do. I take your advice seriously: if you tell me to jump off of the Golden Gate bridge, I’ll do it. If you tell me to throw myself onto the rails at Civic Center, consider it done. Eat raw blowfish? Definitely. I’ll do whatever it takes, with apprehensions and fear and all, as long as it means I can be with Romeo.”
“Then hold tight, little bird,” said Lawrence. “Go back to the apartment, go back to your bosses, and play along. Tell them you’ll move to Prospero Island. But tomorrow night, make sure nobody’s following you. Make sure that Amy isn’t with you, or anyone else.”
Lawrence pressed an open pouch containing a bracelet into Juliet’s hand: it was the tennis bracelet she’d given Romeo! “Don’t ask how I got this, but tomorrow night, when you’re alone, put this back on, and...well, I can’t tell you what to do after that, but you’ll know. Trust me. And once you see the truth, the truth will set you free. But, don’t put it on before then. And keep it in the pouch. There’s instructions in there. Follow them, to the word.”
Lawrence tightened the small black velvet pouch’s strings. “On Thursday, you’ll know what to do. On my end, I’ll send Romeo the information about the plan. The plan should be enough to help you two get out of the city, together. You won’t have to deal with San Francisco anymore...and things won’t be perfect, but it’ll be a lot better for you two than it would be being the playthings of two companies using you as pawns, as if this is some sort of game.”
None of this made any sense to Juliet, the rational Juliet who didn’t believe in fairy tales and mermaids and vampires and magic, who didn’t believe in dragons or princesses although she was a tech princess in the company of titans. It didn’t matter, though: if there was even a slim chance that, like some magic beans, this bracelet could bring her to Romeo, then she was going to do whatever she could to make sure that the bracelet did whatever it had been enchanted to do. “Thank you,” said Juliet, pocketing the pochette into her leather cross body purse. “Thank you. I won’t chicken out, I swear.”
“Now, get out of here. Make sure that you follow through. I’ll send a courier quickly, to Austin, with the news for Romeo,” said Lawrence, helping Juliet to her feet and giving her a quick hug.
“Love...it’s love that’ll help me stay on the path, and the path is all I need to find myself with Romeo,” said Juliet, nestling her chin in the crook of Lawrence’s neck and hugging him back, a bit too hard. “Goodbye, Lawrence. And thank you.”
As Juliet left Wattage, the small bells played tones all too happy for such a solemn occasion, and as Lawrence watched Juliet walk away, he knew it would be for the last time. He’d made sure of it. He’d had to.
For everybody.
Chapter Eighteen: Act Four, Scene Two
Circles are made of an infinite series of closely knit lines, and in a close-knit world ruled by infinite lines, everything was coming full circle. William passed Peter, who was following behind Amy, Miranda, and another intern, a folder of papers. “Names. List. You know what to do. Make sure they’re all at the event.”
Peter nodded: he didn’t need some strangers-cum-Pyrymyn employees to tell him what to do this time. He’d find a social media intern to handle the invites. He headed out towards the building with the relevant department as William handed another intern a set of papers. “Make sure to get some good caterers for this event.”
“Of course, sir, only the best,” said the intern. “I’ll make sure they know exactly who they’re dealing with.”
“Why should that matter?” asked William.
“Easily,” said the intern, a student from a local master’s program in hospitality. “Caterers that don’t k
now of Thisbia’s reputation don’t deal with companies like ours often...and for good reason.”
“Good, get it done,” said William. The last thing he needed was to be taught more useless knowledge by an intern. The intern walked away, opening up a list of restaurants on his phone and figuring out who would be fit to cater the event. Was there anyone still making artisanal ironically frosted cronuts, or would he go with something classic, like jalapeño foam bacon maple macarons? Miniature Kobe beef sliders were last season, but were they considered retro yet?
“We’re nowhere close to ready for the launch event,” William said to Amy. “Where has Juliet gone? Another coffee run?”
“That’s right,” said Amy.
“Well, that’ll do her some good,” said William. “Calm her nerves, at least.”
Amy peered out over the campus as they walked to the Thisbia gates. “Look, there she is...and she looks tons better.” Amy waved at Juliet and caught her eye.
Juliet walked towards them. She hadn’t seen Miranda from her position before, and as soon as she walked over, Miranda pulled out her phone. Juliet’s heart sunk: the closest thing she had to a mom, and she was going to ignore her over some stupid fight? “So, my stubborn intern, what trouble have you been up to?” asked William in a jovial tone, but his eyes told another story.
Juliet avoided the temptation to talk directly to Miranda, like she would have any other normal day, because the normal days had stopped the day she’d met Romeo, and nothing was going to be normal anymore...so there went her relationship with the only woman in her life who had been able to give her professional guidance, who had led her through the tech world by the literal hand for two summers. “I went somewhere to calm down, to think about my options. The barista said that I should be grateful to be given the privilege, nay, the honor, of transferring to such an illustrious company, to have such great mentors both here and in the future, and he told me...that I should let you know,” said Juliet, pulling William close and giving him a hug. He tensed up instinctively before patting her on the back. Juliet pulled away. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stratford. I won’t disobey you again in the future.”
“That’s great,” said William, looking over Juliet with eyes that had gone from solemn to sad. “We’ll let Paris know. Better yet, you can go tell him. I’ll make sure that this event goes as planned.”
“Well, actually, I saw him at Wattage,” explained Juliet, going through the motions. She just had to bullshit them long enough to get back to her room and open the bracelet which may as well have been a bottle of pixie dust...or snake oil. “We talked about my options and I tried not to act overly excited.”
“That’s good, this is great...but we’ve got lots to do,” said William, pulling out of Juliet’s mechanical embrace. “This is all going according to plan. I need to go see Paris myself now. If you see him, ask him to check his texts, I’ll have sent him word. Our companies owe that barista of yours a debt.” William let out a forced laugh.
“Amy, will you come with me back to the apartments and help me pick out outfits and accessories for tomorrow?” asked Juliet.
Miranda flipped through the pages on her matte black clipboard, still unable to look Juliet in the eye. “We don’t have to do that until...Thursday morning.”
“Amy, take a break,” said William, a man who would never allow for breaks if it wasn’t for Amy’s genius policy about how interns should spend about twenty percent of their time on personal projects...as it had channeled any extra focus the interns had, that they somehow couldn’t put into their job, into ventures that made Thisbia look good, energy that would have otherwise been wasted on Reddit. “The event goes on tomorrow. Moscone Center, starts at nine, keynote at noon. The usual deal.”
“Are you sure we’ll be ready for it?” asked Miranda, watching that silly human resources lady walk away with the prize of Thisbia. “It’s nearly night, and we still have preparations to make.”
“I’ll make things go according to plan,” promised William. “It’s all going to be okay. I can promise you that. But right now, spend time with Juliet. Make sure she’s prepped for tomorrow. I’m pulling an all-nighter, so, for once, I’ll be the one spending extra time at the office.”
Miranda nodded and followed after Amy and Juliet, flats to the power washed pavement. “And...oh. I’m just talking to myself, aren’t I?” said William, talking to himself. “Well...guess I’m going to go see Paris on my own then, and brief him. At least everything’s going according to plan, and we’ll finally make Juliet’s someone else’s problem.”
William had no idea how right he really was.
Chapter Nineteen: Act Four, Scene Three
Juliet looked at the outfits that Amy had laid out onto the bed. They were all Amy-mazing: the colors worked with Juliet’s color season, they weren’t too flashy, but they would make her stand out in the best of ways. “These...these outfits are all perfect,” said Juliet, running a hand over the cashmere cardigan Amy had laid out for her, one that matched one in Amy’s closet. Like all her clothes, Juliet had purchased these items with Amy, in Union Square, using Miranda’s card at the start of the summer. Everything from before the summer was just a blur compared to life in the city, life with the family she’d become part of at Thisbia. She’d need a good reason to ever leave...and that’s exactly what she’d found at the company summer party. “Amy...I need some time alone. I have a lot to think about: you know how much I’m going to miss this city.”
Someone opened the door. Juliet turned and froze: it was Miranda. Miranda let out a small cough. “Is everything okay up here? Have preparations been made for tomorrow?” asked Miranda.
“Yes, Mrs. Hathaway, we’re just setting out my outfits for tomorrow,” said Juliet. “Some things for the exhibition. So...if it’s okay, I’d like some time to think, alone. Amy can keep you company tonight. I’m sure she’ll be a big help, what with the preparations still in order.”
“Good night, Juliet,” said Miranda, nodding. “Get lots of sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.” Miranda left after Amy, shutting the door on Juliet.
“Goodbye, Miranda,” said Juliet, wishing she’d said something more to the woman that she needed so badly in her life. “I don’t know if or when I’ll see you again, and...I’m so afraid. That’s all I feel now: afraid. I wish I could talk to you about this. A-Amy...oh, fuck it, there’s no use. I have to do this alone.”
Juliet pulled out the black velvet pouch from the drawer in her desk and opened it gingerly, pulling out a plain piece of paper that had been folded twice over and made one side of the pouch stiff. “And...here’s that bracelet.” She unfolded it carefully, half expecting it to contain pixie dust or at least be a glitter bomb, but instead, she read the instructions...or at least, she was going to, until she stopped herself.
What if the bracelet doesn’t work? Will I have to transfer tomorrow? No...I can use the USB drive, thought Juliet, thinking of the juicy irony of her ability to delete all repos of her program using the program itself, pulling out and holding the USB drive in the other hand. I’ll always have that close by. She pocketed the drive again. What if this is a sick joke from Lawrence? He’s always kept his distance from me...he probably dislikes me, to put it lightly...is he worried that I don’t really love Romeo? I bet it’s a trick...but that’s not the kind of thing that Lawrence would do, even if he doesn’t like me much.
What...what if Romeo doesn’t come back, even if whatever this is works? That would be the worst fate. I’ll be all alone in San Francisco, and if I don’t have anyone, I might as well be dead. I’d be like one of the many lonely people here. I’d...I’d hurt like Ty, but in a different, worse way, the way that a hospital can’t heal. But I have to do this. I have to.
Juliet looked over the instructions first, unfolding a white paper that was printed with black text, still glossy like it had just been printed freshly that day:
Step 1: Attach bracelet to either wrist.
Step 2: Pre
ss on the two closest stones on either side of the clasp following the pattern:
Left, Right, Right, Both,
Left, Right, Both,
Right, Left, Right, Both,
Left, Both,
Left, Left, Right, Both,
Left, Right, Right, Left, Both.
Step 3: Follow the directions.
Juliet frowned. Follow...the directions? Could that get any more vague? She sat on the bed and put on the bracelet and followed the pattern, the code entered within a few minutes, but as soon as it was completely entered, she froze, falling backwards onto the bed, eyes and mind wide open.
Chapter Twenty: Act Four, Scene Four
Miranda looked around the Moscone Center. The banners were up in the lobby: simple and elegant, they didn’t give away too much, but they only had the Thisbia logo, which simply read “Thisbia” across the front in a sans-serif font in light gray against a dark grey background. It was hip, it was cool, it was chic, and it looked good on a t-shirt, screen-printed made with organic cotton in sweatshop-free conditions.
Amy was literally Miranda’s right hand woman, waiting on Miranda’s right with a clipboard containing the same checklist Miranda was checking. As much as Miranda hated to admit it, she’d become close with Amy this last summer, out of necessity, and if it wasn’t for Amy, there’s no way that Miranda would have been able to deal with all of the last minute preparations that had to be made for the event.
“Amy...I’m going to need you to make sure that the caterers are actually doing their job,” said Miranda. “Last time, they understaffed the bar and the snack area was pitiful.”
