Ro (A Cyberpunk Retelling of Romeo and Juliet)

38

JULES CAPULET

"Thank you for coming out here today to catch the newest version of the Eye-Lens." Jack Paris gives his best, shit-eating grin. His handsome features are cold. His gaze, dead. He reaches a hand out towards me, waiting for me to take it. "I'm sure you're bored of the same face representing the newest products. So, without further ado, let me present a fresher figure. A fashion icon you all know and love." He bows, takes my hand in his. Caresses it, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of my palm. "The Rose of New Verona, Jules Capulet."

I take a moment before I step out from the shadows of the stage wings into the light. Murmurs ripple through the crowd. Could it be? Could the infamous Rose of New Verona, the relentless partier and romancer, could they finally be terrified of the spotlight? Everyone fears recognition when it's unwanted, then crave it when it's gone.

"Thank you, Mr. Paris." I step forwards, heart beating fast in my chest. Mr. Paris picked my outfit for me, with help from Nutrix. A black bandeau beneath an open blazer. Pinstripe trousers and buckled boots. A face devoid of makeup entirely. My face. Mine.

Jack Paris pulls me close, murmuring in my ear as he smiles at the cameras over my shoulder. "Wear eyeliner next time, at least. Draw attention to the product."

I grin, focusing solely on him, even as his attention wanders. "But I thought I was the product, Mr. Paris."

His grip tightens on my hand. I bite my lip, refusing to cry out. He releases it before causing any real damage. "Remember the contract. Your life is worth credits now. My credits."

I smile, nice and wide, step in front of him. Shown off like a prize.

My eyes, the cameras focus on them. The image of the new Eye-Lens over them, glittering on the giant holo-screen on the stage behind me. The images projected, shifting, on an artificial waterfall. The crystalline water cascades from irrigation pipes overhead to drains disguised as garden fountains below. Plants, imported this morning, bloom along the stage.

My eyes, the Eye-Lens. Everybody sees how the thin sheen of the product catches the light. A prism, a kaleidoscope of colors, every shade of the rainbow, reflected in my pupil.

"With the newest Eye-Lens product, who could ever be happier?" I smile, showing off teeth that had been lasered to cleanliness this morning. A jaw that had been surgically replaced at age eleven from a sporting accident. Read the script. Read the script. "I know I can't."

I focus directly into one camera, held by a man with a hat drawn low over his forehead. Wearing a suit, all dove-gray.

His press badge calls him "Larry Fry." We call him Lawrence.

"In every encounter..." I focus on the camera, thinking, I love you.

This is why I must do this.

"...unfold imagined happiness."

I bite down, hard, on the final implant Lawrence has created for me.

The one that would sever my entire digital footprint, as though I was never born. I'd be erased from the system, a dead person.

Free to run into Ro's arms.

Like that, I fall.

WARNING. SYSTEMS FAILURE. EYE-LENS DETACHED. BLOOD-OXYGEN LEVELS DECREASING.

WARNING. SYSTEMS FAILURE.

SYSTEMS... 3...2...

For New Verona.

I send this final message to Ro, falling from the stage and crashing into a patch of flowers. Their petals lull me to a sweetened slumber, even as the audience erupts into screams around me.

***

Hey, it's Ro Montague here. Don't forget to vote and comment... or else.

Your daily wisdom for the day?

Humans fall, as flowers do in autumn. They come again in springtime, sleeping for a long, near-eternal winter. The ice makes them stronger. They know to fear the autumn next time it comes around. To fear their truest enemy, time.