Ro (A Cyberpunk Retelling of Romeo and Juliet)

6

"What's in a name? that which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet."

***

JULES CAPULET

"No more going out at night." My father's dusting his face with powder while my mother checks the hovercraft travel plans for the sixteenth time.

I blink, wondering if my Eye-Lens interface is off. I check the settings, trying to see if captioning has gotten rigged somehow.

Nope, they really said what I thought they did.

"Butwhy can't I go out at night?" I huff, trying to stay as still as possible as Nutrix, head designer of V is for Verona Fashion, adjusts my heels. The pressure-sense soles are the newest sensation, made to look good and feel comfy. If you have the credits, that is.

And the Capulets have no problem with having enough credits.

Or so I thought.

"We have problems with credits." My mom purses her lips tightly, tapping her bitten-down fingernails against the back of her secretary bot. The secretary bot dutifully displays the credit conversion rates, hovercraft plans to New Verona, and local weather in whatever country my parents have travelled to now. I pout when I don't see any tabs open to my latest paparazzi pictures. I wore some outrageous fashions and upset some very famous New Verona politicians' kids to try and grab my parents' attention.

Of course, they didn't notice. Again.

"Our main source of income's the lottery, Jules."

"Lottery?" I stifle a laugh as Nutrix mouths tacky to me.

"You know, where we sell tickets, and the winner gets to move out of that shithole in southern New Verona to the nicer sectors up north." My father attempts to nudge in nicely, his cheeks shiny from the recent filler injections. "But those Montaguesare undercutting our profits. The southern New Verona citizens think that the Montys are their guardians or something. They don't want to leave or play our lottery out of loyalty to them. How pathetic."

"But why does that translate to my not being able to go out?" I huff. Nutrix, the best fashion designer in all of New Verona, tries his best not to stab me with my own heels from all my temper tantrums. He dons a simple black robe and sash, but his accessories are all bio-tech, and flashy as can be. Earrings that hold on with a constant magnetic field. A laser diadem that's sewn into the skull. An Eye-Lens that's dyed cosmetic pink.

Nutrix likes to make a scene, just like me.

My mother pulls up a tab that flashes over my Eye-Lens. I blush as I come face-to-face with the stunt I pulled the night before. Clothes hanging off my drunken frame as I shout obscenities at the governor's son.

Oh, so they were paying attention to my clubbing adventures.

"Without credits from the lottery, our family is nothing, Jules. That casino is New Verona is the start of a franchise, but we cannot expand it if it fails because of a couple drug lords." My mother shakes her head, not a single hair out of place. The wrinkles at her eyes tell another story. Unlike my father, she refuses modification surgeries. She wants people to see her age, to see what she's been through with the scar that hangs over her eye from when a radical Montague thug scratched her face with a keycard. The feud started simply enough.

They wanted to own South Verona.

We wanted to own allof it.

An image flashes across my Eye-Lens, sent from my mother's robo-server. A handsome young man, dark hair slicked back. A devil-may-care smile. "The owner of the Eye-Lens, that tech entrepreneur, Jack Paris? He has a crush on you."

Nutrix winks at me as he strings a stretch of bio-tech lights over my ensemble. They light up according to heart rate, changing colors depending on my mood, effectively. I'm sure it'll be sold out everywhere by next week. "Darling, it's no secret everybodywants you. You're the rose of New Verona."

"Not now, Nutrix!" My mom snaps, effectively cowing the bio-tech fashion designer. She doesn't mean it though, not really. Nutrix is practically family.

I smile as I look back at my parents, looking between the two of them. Father with smooth, clay skin and a fade. Countless surgeries that make him look like he never aged past thirty. Mom with the ice-blue eyes and a jagged red scar that she enhances with makeup, made to look all the more intimidating with. I've never seen her wearing anything other than funereal black. Me, a mix between the two of them. Dark curls and half a shaved head. Mom's ice eyes. Dad's promising, come-hither smile.

I used to want to disappear into the background, be like everyone else. A wallflower.

But now, I wanted to stand out.

I'm the rose of New Verona, assholes.

Nutrix called me a savior for fashion, always wearing outrageous prints or see-through designs. Always daring.

Little did he know the one place I didn't want to dare was the family business. My family made money, and I never wanted to question where it came from. When I did, it made me have anxiety attacks. The rumors that my bodyguard, Tibbs, told me...

Deep breath, Jules. You can do this.

"What do you want me to do about this Mr. Paris?"

My parents cast me a knowing look until my father, dabbing golden glitter over russet cheeks, coiling dark hair beneath a stripe-lined fedora, finally breaks the silence. "We want a business deal. He wants one, single brunch with you. Is that so difficult?"

I sign off after mumbling a few banal pleasantries. I haven't seen my parents in person for five years. I'm starting to wonder if our Eye-Lens conversations are even real anymore.

"So, brunch with the most eligible tech-company bachelor in the world." I glance at Nutrix, smirking. "What should I wear?"

He holds up a pair of scissors, grinning with a near-devilish glint in his eye. "What shouldn'tyou?"