Hi?

Holy crap holy crap holy crap Nancy found out, I repeat Nancy found out. 

Apparently she found this blog. 

Crap. 

Hi, Nancy? 

Heart Over Head...Over Heels

So that wasn't the end of that.

I may or may not have run into Remy and may or may not have been meeting up with him for the past month. And by run into Remy, I mean I was at a mini party (but if anyone asks it was a study group, yes?) and I took a quick breath of fresh air out on the balcony. As Fate would have it, who walks by but the man himself. I don't really see or notice him at first. But then he calls my name, which means he knows my name...which also means he has no reason to call it.

But he does. Over and over again and he won't shut up and I'd been wondering about him.
So I call down to him and I say:
"Where are you? I may be fabulous but I can't see in the dark."
I kid you not, those are my first words to him. SMH. Well at least they were true.

Here's how the rest of it went though:

Me: What are you doing down there?
R: *Shrugs* I was taking a walk and, well, it's sort of hard to miss the loud music. And you're...kind of shiny.

Me: What? 

R: Your dress. It's unbelievably sparkly. It's like a sun and you're kind of blinding me. 

Me: Oh. Sorry.

*Awkward Silence* 

Me: Should I come down? We should probably stop yelling, shouldn't we. 

R: Nah, we're good. 

I walk down anyways.

Me: Hi. 

R: Hi We probably shouldn't be talking to each other, hmm?

Me: What, because of our names? Trust me, I'd give the world not to be a Capulet. It...sort of sucks. 

R: Can't say I don't feel the same way about being a Montague. Usually keeps me from talking to pretty girls. 

Me: That wasn't cheesy at all.

R: What can I say? I try. 

Me: Really? Let's hear some more. 

R: Are you an angel because--

Me: We've all heard that one.

R: You're the moon and I'm the stars and the moon never runs from the stars. 

Me: Bordering on creepy and you realize the moon is pock-marked right. And continually changes. What are you trying to say?

And then we just really talked about random things. We didn't really mention the fact that our families hated each other again (but when you think about it, it's stupid, right? I mean the only thing our parents really hate about each other are their names. Names are random sounds strung together--how does it make any sense that that's what would keep two people apart? Ugh.) and we just talked through the night until--

R: Do you want to go out?
Me: (blushing furiously) I don't know...as a date? If we did it'd have to be out of town though. I think my parents would kill me if they found out I talked to you, much less going out.
R: How about 9 AM at the old church? It's a bit early, but it's the only time I'm really free nowadays and I have a friend at the church who could help us.  

Anyways, since that we've just been meeting up in random places, deflecting suspicion from our parents, etc. No one knows except Remy's friend and he's a priest. Apparently Remy's father figure for the last decade or so--if we can't trust him, who can we trust? And I trust Remy. 

I really like him. May even love him, even though it's only been a month. It's too soon to say that though. It is. It's way too soon.

Is it really though?

Oh my God, it totally is. It utterly, absolutely is. I don't know though. He's sweet and reckless and passionate and he loves to talk. He's adorable when he gets excited, but sometimes he gets so sad it's hard to cheer him up. And here's a confession: sometimes when I can't cheer him up, f

I may love him though. I really might.

(3)

A Love Born From Hate

So I've discovered Mystery Boy's name. And it kills me. 

Cheerleading time: Give me an M-O-N-T-A-G-U-E. What does that spell? 
The family my family hates and the one that's trying to run us into the ground. 
I don't agree with half of my parents' business decisions, but...ugh. I have to admit, I do feel the tiniest bit guilty about doing this.

After the party, I honestly didn't think I'd see him again, but Nancy, being the social butterfly that she is, knows everyone. And I mean everyone. So I may have stalked her Facebook friends list until I came across a profile picture that had Mystery Guy in it. Except, also in the picture was Marcus. In fact, it was Marcus' s Facebook account. The caption of the picture? "Remy being mopey and Marcus being awesome." Ignoring the complete obnoxiousness of that statement--

Remy. The only Remy Marcus knew--that anyone knew--was Remy Montague. 
Freaking heir to the Montague fortune and the Montague hatred for...us.

Ironically, you know what my fortune cookie said, the day before I found out? "Love born from hate only ends in tragedy." Not quite sure what the connection is, but there's one somewhere in there. Thanks though, Fate.

Dammit though, he's a Montague. Of all the people I liked and could possibly have loved, if we're going that far, he had to be a Montague? I mean, seriously, there are dozens upon dozens of fishes in the sea, and the one I dredge up and happen to like turns out to be poisonous. I can't even with my luck.

Well. That's the end of that.

(2)

Masked Mysteries

Well guys, things have turned as interesting as I'd thought it would.  And by interesting, I mean sort of sucky. 

But you're going to need some backstory before I get into the nitty gritty.

So my parents run a business, right? Right. And like any business (but particularly this one), we have competition,  we have business partners--and then there are people we want to be partners with. Basically the people we suck up and give blinding smiles to. (We become masters of bs in front of them.)

There's this one...company we want to do business with. Importing and exporting in Europe, though mainly the France/Italy area. The head family's name is Price--undoubtedly ironic since they never seem to settle on a price.  We've spent years pampering and flattering the senior Mr. Price's nephew who came here to inspect possible clients, but he's become best friends with our competitor's heir. We didn't give up hope, but every time Marcus says "I'll see what I can do", even an infant could tell you he's not on our side. And trust me, we've tried bribery (and I'm pretty sure the Montagues, our competition, have too), but he won't agree to anything. 

Which may be part of why Mr. Price and his son Pierre decided to come overseas and assess their options themselves. I doubt they trust Marcus's judgement--and really who would? He's kind of a tool.  

You want to know what mom said when my parents found out that they were coming, though? "Make sure Pierre shows some interest in you. Make sure you show some interest back." In case you didn't catch that folks, she wanted me to basically seduce Pierre. A random 17 year old. My own mother. Here's the kicker though: "Rose's too invaluable to the business and we can't have her wrapped up in a guy or distracted by other duties." Yeah. There's Rose being Better Than Julia once again. 

Thanks mom. I was tempted to do it just so that when we closed the business deal, I could claim credit and shove it in my sister's face. 

But...I didn't. Here's what happened: 

We threw a party the night after the Prices arrived. Masquerade ball actually. (Sidenote: I had the most gorgeous ensemble: white dress, gold accents, and a half mask that was lined with feathers.) Everyone had masks so you could barely tell who was who. 

Well, I mean, you could tell who the Prices and Capulets (my family) were if you got here early enough for the speech, but I digress. 

So everything's going well. I'm talking with Pierre here and there, but definitely not paying him as much attention as my parents want, and if we're being honest, he was kind of a bore. I mainly took refuge with my best friend Nancy until she went to do her parents' bidding and socialize. 

Then. Then I fell in love. I swear to you it was love at first sight. 

Lol yeah no. 

There was this one guy who wasn't taking part in the festivities at all--the kind of guy you notice too. Maybe the same age as Pierre. Gold mop of hair. Dazzling smile (and by dazzling, I mean dazzling). So who was I to resist when he comes up to me and asks me to dance? 

Especially when he called me "Angel". Yeah, I was pretty much swooning at this point. Or maybe a bit tipsy. Either way I ended up staying near him for the rest of the night and we talked about any random topic we could think of (at one point we ended up on the topic of religion. How strange is that?), and then...well I'm pretty sure he meant to kiss me. I sort of swerved and he ended up kissing my cheek.  He was a quick thinker though; kissing my other cheek, he said ciao and started to leave. I figured I'd see him around sooner or later--after all, if he got into this party, he had to be someone important. 

Then Nancy comes back from being a social butterfly, a strained smile on her face (I feel you, Nancy. I feel you.) and for some reason I just...don't tell her about him. I dunno, I sort of want to keep him as my secret, you know? For all I know I won't even meet him ever again. 

Enter, Stage Right

WELCOME! I won't bother with introductions since this is more for me than the audience (for once). If you're curious, though, you can find out more about me! 
This blog mainly just exists because at this point, my life isn't really mine anymore. If anything, it seems to belong to my parents who are wrangling me into being their perfect daughter. I mean, you'd think they'd be happy with Rose who's pretty much the epitome of perfection. But no. Both of their daughters have to be straight-A, pretty-faced socialites dedicated to the family business. Seriously? 

Honestly, it's always about Rose, even when they're talking about me. "Why can't you get higher grades like Rose?" "Why can't you get involved in the family business?" "Why can't you get your head out of the clouds?" "Rose is attending an infamous Catholic school and you want to go to public school?"

And in case you didn't catch that, yes; my parents are those white collared rich people.. You don't really need to know the details, but let's just say they're the CEO and CMO of a certain company. I'd rather not specify though, since being kidnapped and held for ransom? Not exactly on my bucket list. 

Stay tuned for the drama of my life--in less than a week, there's probably going to be enough updates to cover 2 hours of straight reading. 

P.S. Yes, I do want to go to public school, Mom.