The Cult of Romeo

Prologue

Burton Abbey Boarding School Theatre, Opening Night, 1982

It was the morning before the opening night of Burton Abbey's production of Romeo and Juliet and somebody had written a threat on the mirror in bright red lipstick - how horribly cliche, and a waste of lipstick.

'Nessus' Revenge is Imminent. Good Luck, Heracles
-Deianira.'

It was a clever Greek mythology styled threat. My favourite kind, of course.

The words were skewed slightly with the ends of curly letters trailed to the left. We had a lipstick stealing, drama enthusiast who was left-handed. An empty pack of cigarettes lay face up in the bin. The only people I knew in the drama club who smoked were Francis and Jude, both of whom were not allowed in this dressing room.

The rug was folded over in the corner next to the bin causing me to believe that whoever had been in here made a quick getaway. Judging from the burn mark left on the wooden desk, and a flung cigarette just beside the bin, this person was not expecting visitors and panicked.

The smell of smoke still lingered in the air meaning our guy had only just recently left.

"Do you know what it means?" Asked Elijah Lawson who had stood back while I inspected the room. He leaned against the doorway with crossed arms and a nervous pout. "I mean, it's English but just words to me. None of it makes sense. I can't tell if it's actually wishing me luck or threatening me."

I tilted my head to the side and squinted at the words. "It's Greek mythology," I told him.

He smiled slightly and pointed a finger. "See, Julien told me you'd know exactly what it meant. You are Charlotte Monet after all, I should have gone straight to you."

I nodded along. Of course, my cousin, Julien had been right.

"So...uh, what does it mean?" Elijah continued. He stood straight and ran a hand through his golden blond hair.

I should have told him to figure it out himself, that I was busy; but, the look on his face made me stay. He was too pouty and too innocent, to let suffer. Perfect for drama and perfect for the role of Romeo, too.

"Heracles, or Hercules as you'd probably recognise him, was a demi-god in Greek mythology. Nessus was a centaur who Heracles had killed. While on his death bed, he tricked Heracles' lover, Deianira into believing his blood was a love potion. When she got jealous a few years later of the beautiful Princess her husband was travelling with, she sent him a tunic with the centaur's blood on to wear home. What neither knew however was that his blood was poisonous. When Heracles put on the tunic, his skin began to burn and he was unable to take it off. Soon, Heracles died from the poisonous blood and at the hands of his jealous lover."

Elijah's mouth lay agape as his eyes flickered from the pretty letters on his mirror to me.

"Uhm- So, what should I do?"

I shrugged. "Don't accept tunics from jealous lovers?"

Elijah quickly regained his composure. He stood straight, lips pulled into a soft smile and child-like face back to its gentle innocence. He was good that way, never letting others onto what he was thinking. I judged from the twitch in his left eye and slight clench and unclenching of his fists though that he was either frustrated or nervous.

"I'll let security know not to let Jackie anywhere near the theatre then," he joked.

I pursed my lips. I would agree that Jackie Keller, his ex-girlfriend, was a piece of work but I doubted she wrote that on his mirror. A girl like Jackie Keller didn't need to threaten people back into her life, they simply fell to her feet. I would have fallen to her feet too had she asked for it.