I went back to that bar called Nursery Rhyme, and as soon as I walked in, I spotted another chubby bloke waving at me. I walked over and found that my bag now bore a bold, clearly visible signature. "Oh?! Is this really from Mirabelle?! That's not your autograph, is it? I'll roast you like a Sunday roast if it is," I said before holding the baguette bag high in the air.
He wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. "Of course not, I had to work really hard to get this," he grumbled, whilst I didn't give him so much as a glance.
"Of course it was hard—go on a diet so you don't struggle so much, you idiot," I retorted before slinging the bag back on and continuing to admire it, whilst Humpty, who'd heard my taunt, immediately went limp and needed the counter's help to stand up on the floor.
"Not even a single word of thanks…" he whispered. Before long, the sound of footsteps approached, and my shoulder was tapped from behind—when I turned round, I was taken completely by surprise by the figure approaching us. "O-Oh! Mira—"
"Oh? So you're the Fable who saved the city of London?" The voice of a woman—soft, yet full of self-assurance—said, "Seeing that this city can be protected by a girl who isn't even allowed to drink a drop of alcohol makes me realise once again that this world is full of surprises."
Those long, waist-length pink locks and beautiful blue eyes, like stars in the night sky, were fixed on me. "You've seen my performance before, haven't you?" Just looking at her made my legs tremble slightly and my palms break out in a cold sweat. "And oh, your bag's rather nice; I'm curious where you bought it."
"Mirabelle! Thank you for signing my bag!" My hands instinctively reached out to grasp both of hers, shaking them with even more enthusiasm than I'd intended.
"It's no trouble—besides, it's only natural to treat fans the way they want to be treated." Her hands slipped free from my grip and her finger immediately rested on my chin. "You're quite pretty, though you can't compare to me. Could you tell me your name, sweetheart?"
My chin lifted, and I almost forgot who I was; my face felt quite warm, and the smile on her lips seemed to be flattering me. "Alice Lindsey." Upon hearing that, her fingers slipped from my chin, and her hands rested on her hips.
"You haven't answered the question about where you bought that bag," she said, turning round and flinging a scrap of paper from her hand, which fell before landing right in my palm. "But it's a shame I don't have time to hear the answer right now," she said, walking away and leaving me with the piece of paper bearing a beautifully written telephone number.
"You lucky bastard!" echoed the man clutching the glass tightly in his hand—a glass that was about to shatter any moment now. He really did look jealous that I'd got Mirabelle's number so fast. "Now you can start hitting on her!" I very slowly held up the number, and I could clearly see Humpty stealing a glance, but before he had a chance to read it, I instantly pulled my hand back, leaving him frustrated.
The moon had set and the sun was once again shining down on the earth; a man with dark skin was walking along the pavement towards a pub called Mother Goose. The night before, he'd been contacted by the owner, and now he was officially one of Mother's 'children'—she would be giving him a job just like the other Fables. However, his steps came to an immediate halt when a hand tugged at the hem of his waistcoat; as he turned, his eyes widened in surprise at who it was—he was still not ready to face this girl just yet. "Can… we have a word?" The girl kept her head bowed, whilst Romeo's heart was now truly filled with anxiety.
"I'm sorry, but I've got other things to do…" he said, turning back towards the street—though there was nothing there but passing vehicles—yet the hand of the girl named Juliet tightened as if she had no intention of letting Romeo go.
"I'll hate you if you refuse," her response took Romeo completely by surprise—he didn't want to be hated by her, a girl he'd known for less than a week. A long silence followed before he finally nodded in agreement, "…I suppose I won't hate you then."
They then sat down at a table in a restaurant, staring silently at the menu. "I'll just have this," she said, pointing to one of the dishes, and after the waiter had taken their orders, a long, awkward silence made Romeo feel uncomfortable.
"You already know what I want to talk about, don't you?"
"…It's about your teammate, isn't it?"
Juliet immediately nodded in confirmation; the girl's hands were clenched so tightly that Romeo could clearly sense her frustration and disappointment—seeing this, Romeo knew he had to act quickly; he must not act like a coward and refuse to admit his mistake.
Without warning, his hand and head slammed onto the table, making a loud noise that instantly drew the attention of the other customers. "I don't deserve your forgiveness," he said, Juliet mouth agape, yet she still hadn't responded in any way to his apology.
"I just want to ask you one thing," she said in a cold voice that made Romeo's skin crawl; his head was still resting on the polished wood, and he let her go on. "Were you using me?"
Romeo didn't respond at first, before finally replying. "It certainly looks that way—and I wouldn't blame you for thinking that of me."
"But the plan Alice wrote down only covered how to defeat Midas and Caesar—there wasn't a single word about the letter; I thought it was just a friendly note from Alice to you."
"But it turns out that wasn't the case; it was my fault for being so stupid and not checking it first. When I was asked to go to that posh restaurant—that's when I realised what I'd done."
"I'm sorry, I'm truly sorry."
Hearing all this, Juliet remained silent; the waiter, who had come to bring their order, seemed hesitant to approach them in this tense atmosphere. "Lift your head," she commanded, and at that very moment, Romeo slowly did as she asked.
The waiter, seeing that the atmosphere was growing increasingly tense, immediately approached them and slipped their order onto the neighbouring table before making a hasty exit—he didn't want to get involved in other people's problems, as he was simply working for a wage, nothing more.
"You're too kind, even for your own sake," muttered Juliet; at last, her ruby-red eyes reappeared—her expression was gloomy and cold once more, as usual, though there was still a clear sense of disappointment visible on her face.
"It really is difficult, isn't it…" she murmured, almost to herself; she rested her chin on her hand before turning her gaze out of the window to watch the people walking by. "We… are enemies; things like this are bound to happen, and I know that… yet I keep trying to deny it."
"Perhaps we should just end things… Let's go back to being strangers and enemies again," her voice sounded hesitant; she was completely avoiding eye contact, and her left hand was clawing at the table like a lion in pain. "If we carry on being friends… or more—everything will become even harder than this," she ground her teeth together very tightly.
Her eyes narrowed further and, without warning, Romeo's hand clamped down tightly; his warm hand immediately pulled her head forward. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped at the sudden touch. "Rome—" Before she could say his name, his grip tightened.
"Juliet," her name echoed throughout the restaurant; both her hands were now firmly gripped by the man in front of her. "I don't care if we're enemies… please give me a little more of your time, and please don't rush our parting," those sweet words slipped out without a second thought, and that make her cheeks flushed from left to right, as red as a freshly picked tomato.
Her face, which had previously been clouded with negativity, was now slowly beginning to change; they rose from their seats and a smile began to reappear on Juliet's face—her tear-filled eyes met Romeo's, which were full of determination and a strong, unwavering resolve.
"All right… let's continue this forbidden friendship," said Juliet, tears streaming down her cheeks yet a broad smile lighting up her face. "Even though it will be difficult and painful."
In the place where Romeo ought to be right now—namely, the home of the Mother of all the Fables in London—Robin and I were sitting, waiting for Romeo, who should have arrived ages ago, yet there was no sign of him anywhere.
"Where on earth is that bloke?" grumbled Robin. I was killing time by reading a book, whilst the ginger-haired chap didn't exactly look like the bookish type, so he was clearly bored out of his wits. "Mother, why is your telly broken? If it weren't, we wouldn't be this bored!"
"Sorry, sorry—let's get straight to the main topic, shall we? We can explain everything to Romeo later," Mother replied with a slight laugh to lighten the mood, unfolding a newspaper on the table—revealing a news article printed and illustrated on the page. "Does anyone here get seasick?"
Hearing that, I nearly jumped out of my seat; I tried to compose myself and almost immediately turned the page of the novel I was holding. All eyes were fixed on me as I acted out of the ordinary; I noticed those stares—and I simply remained silent, not responding at all.
Finally, because they'd been staring at me for too long, I managed a glance their way. "W-What are you all looking at?" I stammered, it seemed they'd already grown suspicious of my strange behaviour.