Hey Juliet! Chapter One

Chapter One:

Of Porsche Cars, Compensation and Garnier Light Eye Care Roll On

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         Due to the grace of the gods that Ellurin Eleanor’s alarm clock did not go off and wake her up that morning, she was yet again late for another day in the university.

         “I’m going to be fine, mom.” Ellurin hollered as she unchained her bike from the Eleanor home garage, still biting on a piece of toast from breakfast. She didn’t have any that morning, and the toast was the sole thing that she managed to grab before heading out. Ellurin pedaled hard and whizzed down the front yard and into the street. “I’ll see you when I get home!”

         She was clad in her university uniform that morning, with a large body bag slung over her right shoulder. The uniform was a cream-white long-sleeved polo shirt with a navy blue vest on top with three overlapping squares on the chest, with the collar sticking out of the round neckline of the vest. A light gray pleated miniskirt complemented the top, with a bright red necktie hanging from her neck and swaying with the breeze as Ellurin rode on. The university actually required the students to tuck the necktie under their vests, but Ellurin thought of it as a waste of clothing (Ellurin: I mean, why should we even wear a necktie when we aren’t really going to show it?) and let it remain hanging outside.

         Ellurin slowed down and halted at an intersection behind an old red Chevy truck which was driven by an old man with a yellow cap on his head. She took the piece of toast from between her teeth and bit into it while waiting. She cast a glance on her watch. She was already half an hour late. Ellurin groaned out loud, causing several bystanders sitting under the cheerful umbrella-ed tables in front of a coffee shop to look up from their late morning lattes and at her.

Even though she jumped from the bed as lightning quick as a ninja that morning when she saw that she was already late, Ellurin barely had enough time to get ready. She hadn’t even enough time to find her socks. She just stepped into her shoes and was gone with the wind before you could even say poodle. The university is quite strict in implementing its uniform policies, and she’s sure going to be blocked at the school gates. Then she’ll have to figure out how to enter the campus unscathed. Maybe I should’ve taken that free wallclimbing course last summer. At least that would’ve prepared me to scale the gates of the university like Spidey. Without the guards looking, of course.

         The light turned green, and she zipped through with flames burning behind her in her tire tracks. As she pedaled, Ellurin took her hands off the handlebars and gathered up her long coffee-colored hair into a messy ponytail, sighing. Damn that alarm clock. Note to self: Get a new one and clobber the old one when I get home. That is, if I could get home in one piece at the end of the day.

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         “Your breakfast, my Lord.” Sebastian Watson, the Montclaire family head butler closed the door to Lord Montclaire’s study and pushed forward his cart of pastries and tea.

         Augustus Montclaire swiveled around in his large high-backed swivel chair and turned to face Sebastian. “Just leave it there.” He said absentmindedly as he shuffled his papers on his desk. Sebastian poured his master a cup of tea and placed it on his desk.

         “It is Earl Grey tea today, my Lord.” He returned to his place by his cart. “What would you like for your snack?”

         Lord Montclaire lied back in his chair and took the cup of tea on top of his desk. “Anything would be fine, thank you.”

         “It is always my pleasure to serve you, my Lord.” Sebastian put a plate of croissants on the desk.

         Silence ensued as America’s richest business tycoon ate his snack.

         “Sebastian. Have you checked the newspapers yet?” he suddenly asked. Sebastian nodded his head.

         “Yes, my Lord. And I would really like to suggest to your Highness to remain in the house from now on. The press is going to have a field day if you left the manse.”

         Lord Montclaire finished the snack and put the empty dish and cup on his desk. “Seems like we’re getting desperate.”

         “Miss Eilonwy’s disappearance and the CIA’s investigation just cannot be kept secret anymore.” The servant picked up the used dish and cup and put it on the lowest section of his cart. “Would my Lord want an investigation as to the source of information?”

         Lord Montclaire leaned towards his desk and propped his chin on his knuckles. “On the contrary Sebastian,” he began, a glint flashing in his dark charcoal black eyes, “I have something else I want done.”

         Sebastian gave a bow. “Name it, my Lord, and it shall be done.”

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         Ellurin parked her bike under a cover of rosemary bushes at the side of the school and stared up the walls of the gate of Linton University. Vines clung to the red-brick wall that looked like it had stood there ever since Christopher Columbus discovered America. Barbed wires spiraling on a thin metal rod topped the ancient structure, giving off an aura quite like the prison walls of Alcatraz. Gloomy, ghost town-like and don’t-even-try-climb-me-‘cause-I’m-gonna-shake-you-off kind of scary. Ellurin shook off her fears, slung her bag over her shoulder and, holding onto a vine, strived to find the perfect foothold. Watch out, Spidey. I’m going to replace you now as the new wallclimbing wonder of the world that even the Empire State Building-climbing giant gorilla (what’s his name?) would be proud. For all I know, I could be his lost daughter.

         (She was so engaged with trying to find ways to climb up the brick wall that Ellurin forgot that she was in a skirt. LOL.)

         After securing her foot on a hollow hole in the towering brick wall, Ellurin tugged at the vine and hauled herself up to the top. This is what people get for forgetting part of their uniform at home, Ellurin thought as she threw her bag down some bushes and jumped from the summit of the brick wall. But, clumsy as she was, her foot suddenly caught on the thin metal rod on top and she fell with a crash on a bed of hydrangeas.

         Ellurin sat up and rubbed her back. She groaned as she stretched out to see if anything was broken, when a pair of shiny black formal shoes in front of her got her attention. She looked up. And up. And up. And up. He was six feet tall, after all.

         Jack Williams stood over her, his arms crossed above his chest. Ellurin blinked.

         “I’m the student prefect on patrol for today, and I think we may have gotten ourselves into trouble, Ellurin.” He said. Ellurin smiled sheepishly at her best friend. Uh-oh. Looks like my awarding ceremony as the new wallclimbing wonder of the world would have to be put off for now.

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         Ellurin rubbed the back of her neck and sighed as she entered her classroom. It was a long rectangular room with barely enough space to breathe, stretch, sneeze, and even to release the stinky mixture of carbon dioxide and nitrogen from the digestive system in the human body. Desks and chairs were crammed together like sardines in a tin can. The room was test cheating paradise. Geez, Ellurin mentally sighed again as she took her seat in the back, why can’t the school understand that people are matter and matter occupies space and has mass?

         “Hey Ellurin.”

         Ellurin looked up. And up. And up. What the h----- Am I that small?

         Kyla Johann smiled at Ellurin and pulled up a chair from a nearby table (actually, the chair wasn’t moved due to the space. Or due to the lack of it.).

         “What happened to you?” she asked, frowning, noticing the bruise on Ellurin’s right cheek. The latter quickly covered it with her hand.

         “It’s nothing.”

         Kyla gave her a concerned look. “Ellurin.”

         “My cheek just hit the doorknob while I was eavesdropping on mom and dad last night.” She lied. “They found me out and opened the door unexpectedly.” Kyla seems to have bought it and flashed a magazine before Ellurin’s chocolate-brown eyes.

         “You should be more careful next time. And please do stop eavesdropping on other people’s conversations. It’s… disrespectful.” Kyla said as she playfully slapped Ellurin with the magazine. “Anyway, check this out.”

         Ellurin took the magazine and flipped to the first page. Inside was a picture of four rich and handsome guys all garbed up in suits and ties.

         “They are the Montclaire daughter’s fiancée candidates.” Kyla explained after Ellurin flashed her the so-what? look. “That Eilonwy Montclaire’s one lucky, lucky girl.”

         Ellurin gazed at the picture again and stuck out her lower lip, shrugging. I wonder how it must feel having everything; the looks, a lot of money and power that can influence anything that has two legs, walks uprightly and breathes. How lucky indeed.

         “But isn’t the Montclaire heiress missing already for a month?” Miriam Gainsborough, Ellurin and Kyla’s classmate, butted in. Ellurin turned to look at her.

         “It seems that she ran away. There were rumors that…” Kyla began yakking at Miriam. Sheesh. These two celebrity gossipmongers should be allowed a seat in the Senate, Ellurin thought as she turned back to look at the picture of the so-called Montclaire fiancée candidates. The man in the middle, some guy called Arthur Conan Alvey, particularly caught Ellurin’s attention.

         Rich and handsome, plus a possible successor of America’s richest business tycoon. Mesmerizing violet-blue eyes, long, dark lashes, an aristocratic nose, thin, kissable lips, a pinkish white skin tone and the style and poise of a gentleman. This guy must’ve gotten lost in the real world from one of those kiddie happily-ever-after fairytales.

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         Arthur Conan Alvey picked up his teacup from the table, lied back on the elegant garden set chair in the Montclaire manse garden, with all the blooming rosemary bushes surrounding him, and took a sip of the Earl Grey tea Sebastian had served for the “Young Masters” that morning. He sighed for the forty-third time that morning, and once again, his gaze fell on a potted plant with peach flowers sitting on the corner of the garden. His thoughts turned to Irene Dyas. Irene. If I never bore the wretched name of Alvey, right now, we would’ve been together.

He replaced his teacup on the saucer as Austin Michael Alvey approached the garden set. The latter sat down on the chair beside him and lounged like he was the president or something. Arthur gave him a questioning look.

         “You’re being an emo, Cousin Arthur.” He remarked as a maid poured him Sebastian’s Earl Grey tea. Arthur ignored his remark and picked up his teacup once more.

         “You’re thinking of her again, aren’t you?” Austin spoke up again. Arthur didn’t reply.

         “Cousin Art, don’t give up an entire forest for a single tree.” Austin said. “There are many girls out there who wanted to be in Irene’s place. It’s her fault she chose to believe that crap your parents told her.”

         Arthur looked up from the plate of croissants on the table and glared at Austin. The latter ignored the tea the maid offered him and stood up, waving off the teacup. He flashed the maid an apologetic look and she instantly turned beet red. He turned back his attention to Arthur. “Hey, I’m going to a party tonight at the Webbers’. Wanna tag along?”

         Arthur also stood up after putting the teacup on the table. “No, thank you. I wouldn’t want to ruin the reputation of the Montclaire family by going out into wild parties and having drunken revelries each night. Not to mention playing with girls like they were toys. You’re like a character from an otome game.” (otome game: Japanese dating game in which you play as a girl who has to win over one of the boys in the game)

         With that, Arthur walked out. Austin snorted and watched Arthur’s retreating figure.

         “Does he even know what an otome game is?” he chuckled, sauntering out the garden. Meanwhile, the maid, who was left in the garden, fainted on the spot with blood flowing out of her nose.

         “Just why on earth is Young Master Austin so damn hot?” she said deliriously before losing total consciousness.

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         Going to this school is a crime, Ellurin thought as she wandered aimlessly through the corridors of Linton University. It was her study period, but Ellurin didn’t feel like studying. She felt more of seeing Jack again and apologizing for that morning’s fiasco. And perhaps an invitation to the awarding ceremony, with Ellurin being the new wallclimbing wonder of the world. Or more like the new wallclimbing fiasco of the world.

         The tuition fee’s enough to feed a nation for a day, eat at a classy French restaurant for a whole lifetime or to send me around the world eighty times! Fruitcake, wasting money should be the highest form of violation of human rights! Ellurin slammed her right knuckle on her left palm. Though it is really a mystery how Mom and Dad can cope with paying the school every month the sum of three dollars with its accompanying five zeroes at the end like a tail.

         A sudden commotion in Ellurin’s pocket broke her reverie. She took out her cell phone from inside her vest pocket and flipped it open.

         “Hello?”

         “Ellurin?” her mother’s voice squeaked from the other end of the line.

         “Mom.”

         “Could you stop by the grocery on the way home and pick up a few things?”

         Ellurin cocked an eyebrow. “What things?”

         “Milk, cheese and soy sauce. We just ran out of those.”

         “Okay. Love you mom. Bye.” Ellurin waited for her mother to end the call, and sighed.

         I hate grocery shopping. I’d better ask Jack to come with me.

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         Arthur shifted gears and drove steadily through late afternoon traffic. He ran his hand through his jet-black hair and sighed. Again. If he had been counting, the sighs he made that day must’ve reached to three-digit estimates.

         He had spent the whole afternoon in a discussion with his parents who “happened” to pass by and “happened” to remember their son and “happened” to drop by the Montclaire manse. The conversation left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

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         Arthur, after walking out on Austin, walked back inside the Montclaire manse, only to be met by Sebastian the butler in the entrance hall.

         “Young Master Arthur.” Sebastian greeted, taking a bow. Arthur gave a curt nod before passing him by. “Young Master, your parents are here to see you.”

         Arthur stopped dead in his tracks. He turned back to face the servant.

         “What do they want?”

         Sebastian made a bow. “They only wish to see you, Young Master.”

         Arthur blinked, rolled his eyes and turned his gaze away from the servant, and then back.

         “They are in the drawing room, I presume.”

         Sebastian made a courteous nod. “Yes, Young Master.”

         Arthur turned away and started ascending the giant marble staircase in the entrance hall. “I’ll be there in five.”

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         “Don’t blow this chance, Arthur. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Alexander Alvey, Arthur’s father, said curtly. They were sitting in the drawing room, with the Alveys on the expensive Italian sofa and Arthur on a matching armchair which was just flown in from Italy the previous week. Arthur leaned on an arm of the armchair, his chin propped up on his right knuckle.

         “I understand, Father.”

         Alexander rolled his eyes. “You’d better not displease the Lord Montclaire in any way. Is that understood?”

         “Yes, Father.”

         “I’m training you to be the successor of my company and an alliance with the Montclaire family would be most advantageous to you. You’d also inherit this mansion, and the Montclaire Group of Companies, Inc. You’re going to be the richest man in America.”

         Arthur gave his father a hard look, and turned to his mother. Linaeve Alvey flashed her son a kind smile and reached out to hold his hand.

         “Don’t be too pressured, honey. It’s okay if you don’t become the Montclaire successor. Your father and I would still love you the same, anyway.” She said kindly. Arthur rolled his eyes.

         “That’s enough, Linaeve. Don’t go about putting ideas in that boy’s head. He has to marry the Montclaire heiress, if he doesn’t want the incident with Irene Dyas to be repeated again.” Alexander said sharply. Arthur gave his father a cold stare.

         “I understand, Father.”

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         Arthur thumped the steering wheel in frustration. He hated being controlled by Alexander Alvey. He hated having had to follow in his father’s footsteps. He hated having to marry a girl he does not love. He hated having been born with the name Alvey. He hated himself for not being able to protect the girl he loved at the time that she needed his protection. He hated his own inability.

         He remembered Irene’s face that day. She looked lonely, scared and fragile. He remembered how her lip trembled, how her shoulders shook, how her pearly-white tears fell from her lovely baby-blue eyes to her soft cheeks. He couldn’t even stand think of how ill she had been used. And it was the work of that man Alexander Alvey.

         His knuckles shook as he pulled over at a grocery store by the road. He pounded on the steering wheel hard again and bowed his head down on it, a loud honk issuing from the car as his head pressed on the horn.

         He was a failure. Arthur Alvey deserved to be skinned alive.

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         Ellurin Eleanor stepped out of the convenience store, with a bag full of groceries in tow. She came alone as Jack had some after-school business to attend to, but he promised to see her at the Eleanor residence later that evening. Ellurin looked up at the heavens and absentmindedly smiled to herself. I wonder what I should wear for Jack…

She popped a cheese curl in her mouth as she set off to find her bike which was parked somewhere down the road. But instead of finding her precious vehicle, she found in its place something big, dark blue and shiny. Ellurin blinked.

         It was a Porsche car. Big, dark blue, and shiny. And new. And in the driver’s seat, surprise! A young man who apparently had fallen asleep and had pulled over.

         Ellurin took a step towards him when she realized that she had stepped on something. She looked down and saw that it was a mass of knotted metal. She kneeled and examined the heap when it dawned on her what that thing was exactly.

         “MY BIKE!”

         The driver of the Porsche jolted awake from Ellurin’s bloodcurdling scream. Ellurin looked up from her bike (or from the thing that was previously a bike) and glared accusingly at the man. He peered at her from his Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses.

         “What in the world is the problem, lady?” he asked, irritated. Can’t you let people have their peace around here?

         “You. Ran. Over. My. Bike.” Ellurin said breathlessly, trying to compose herself. She stood up, her grocery bag tucked under one arm, and took a deep breath. It’s no use trying to pick a fight here.

         “You mean that heap of useless scrap metal?” the guy said cockily as he opened the door to his Porsche convertible and walked over to her. Ellurin could feel her patience reaching its end.

         “I. Demand. Compensation.”

         The guy rolled his eyes from underneath his sunglasses.

         “Get real. You won’t get anything for that pile of junk.” He snorted.

         A loud snapping sound got Ellurin’s and the man’s attention.

         “What was that just now?” he asked.

         “That,” Ellurin began, gritting her teeth. “Was the sound of my patience snapping.”

         Silence.

         “Now, Mister Smarty-Britches, let me tell you that you won’t like me when my patience has snapped already. Understand?”

         The man removed his sunglasses and put them on top of his head.

         “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.” He said curtly. “Arthur Conan Alvey, son of the owner of the Alvey Enterprises.”

         Mesmerizing violet-blue eyes, long, dark lashes, an aristocratic nose, thin, kissable lips, a pinkish white skin tone and the style and poise of a gentleman. Okay, maybe minus the style and poise of a gentleman, because this guy is a jerk! Ellurin thought, her fist clenching. Arthur Conan Alvey, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.

         “Okay, Athur Alvey or whatever your name was. I’m going to give you the token of my appreciation today.” Ellurin said, flashing him a sly grin. Arthur cocked an eyebrow.

         “Then may I now have the honor of receiving it?” Arthur sneered.

         “Then prepare yourself for a blackeye that even Garnier Light Eye Care Roll On cannot remove.”

         That afternoon, a loud smack was heard, and the birds perching on the electricity wires flew away in fright.

         The last thing Arthur Alvey knew before he lost consciousness was that he was already lying on the concrete sidewalk, with tiny little birds flying in a neat circle around his head.

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End of the First Chapter.