The Feuding Lovers

By Olivia Merrie Roldant

Once upon a time, in the bustling streets of Verona, there were two families: the Capulets and the Montagues, who had been feuding for as long as anyone could remember. But this isn’t your typical tragic tale of star-crossed lovers. Oh no, this one’s got a twist—Romeo and Juliet couldn’t stand each other.

Romeo Montague was the dramatic type. He had a flair for the over-the-top, a heart that bled poetry at the drop of a hat, and a wardrobe full of tights that screamed “I’m a tortured soul with a penchant for eyeliner.” He spent most of his days wandering the streets of Verona, composing sonnets to the moon (which was just as tired of him as everyone else) and sighing deeply at nothing in particular.

Juliet Capulet, on the other hand, was a practical, no-nonsense woman. She’d rather wield a sword than a bouquet of roses, and if you told her to express her feelings through poetry, she’d roll her eyes so hard it might trigger an earthquake. Juliet had always been a little too smart for her own good, and her family's endless squabbles were starting to wear thin. Her idea of fun? Reading about architecture or constructing intricate traps to prank her cousin, Tybalt.

One fateful evening, their parents, sick of the constant bickering, decided to throw a grand masquerade ball to hopefully end the feud. As fate would have it, Romeo and Juliet found themselves facing off at the event, both disguised in elaborate masks. Romeo, of course, decided that a masked ball was the perfect time to fall in love. But Juliet wasn’t having any of it.

“Ugh, another Montague trying to swoon me with some cheesy pick-up line,” Juliet muttered to herself as Romeo sauntered toward her, his best ‘I’m a tortured artist’ expression plastered on his face.

He took her hand dramatically. “My lady, your beauty is like the stars... No, wait—your eyes are brighter than—”

Juliet yanked her hand away. “Look, I don’t have time for this. I’m here for the snacks. Go back to your brooding corner and keep writing poems about how dark and mysterious you are.”

Romeo blinked, momentarily stunned. “But... but you haven’t even heard my sonnet! It’s really good, I swear.”

“Sonnet? Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You can’t even spell ‘Metaphor’ without messing it up. Do you even know what a metaphor is?”

Romeo puffed out his chest. “Of course I do. It’s when... It’s when you... use something to represent something else, like... like a metaphor! Yeah!”

Juliet snorted. “Yeah, sure. Keep going. You’ll be a poet laureate any day now.”

Their back-and-forth continued, escalating into a full-blown verbal war of wits, while around them, their families continued to gossip and dance. In the middle of their heated argument, Tybalt, Juliet’s ever-vigilant cousin, came storming over to the pair.

“Is this fool bothering you, Juliet?” Tybalt growled, his hand itching toward his sword.

“No, Tybalt,” she replied, flicking a strand of hair over her shoulder. “He’s just trying to win me over with more bad poetry. Don’t worry about it.”

Romeo, growing increasingly frustrated, shot back, “And you’re this close to getting a metaphor in the face, cousin!”

The tension was thick, but before anyone could do anything rash, the Prince of Verona stepped in, shaking his head. “Alright, alright! Romeo, Juliet. Can you two at least pretend to be civil for five minutes? For the sake of Verona, if nothing else?”

Romeo and Juliet glared at each other for a moment before simultaneously muttering, “Fine.”

But the damage was done. Their hatred for each other grew with every passing day, from sarcastic remarks at family gatherings to sabotaging each other’s schemes. Romeo would try to woo her with extravagant gestures, only for Juliet to turn them into absurd comedy routines. She'd mock him in front of his friends, and he'd leave her prank gifts like dead flowers or an empty box labelled “Love.”

Finally, after weeks of constant bickering and one particularly disastrous picnic (which involved an exploding pie), they reached an agreement: they would never fall in love. Not now. Not ever.

But... despite their constant bickering, neither of them could ever quite shake the feeling that, somewhere beneath the sarcasm and insults, they might actually like each other. A little.

Romeo and Juliet’s “relationship” became the talk of Verona. Neither of them would admit it, but their love story was just as dramatic as it was ridiculous.

And they lived... well, maybe not happily ever after, but certainly in a way that made everyone else in Verona question their life choices.

The end... or is it?

By Olivia Merrie Roldant