Juliet

(Juliet is written by cornelia_fogwell)

16.11.2077

Juliet stood still, or at least as still as she could with her legs shaking and her heart beating at an unhealthy pace.

Come on, she threw at herself in her head, you're not a little child anymore. You've got this.

Her throat became dry though, as dry as everything about her working place was. So dryly blunt, not trying to hide whatever was happening in there. There were drunk people around, dangerous people even.

Either that, or Juliet was too paranoid to be actually working in a place with a lot of people.

Which was ironic in its entire meaning since she worked at a club, filling in the position of the waiter that was needed. Still, she knew that there were some girls in that club that had to do other kinds of servings, and no matter how often she'd already gone into this club and come out without being harassed at all, Juliet still needed to take those minutes full of fear before she could set one foot into the building.

Maybe it was the thing that she was a Quartus after all, someone who could be basically owned and used by a Primus, and nothing had happened over two years of living in the Box - so practically, something had to happen, right? Even if someone murdered, raped or tortured her, if she was a Primus' priority or even if not, no one would really care for her dirty life, right? Not that anyone did before. No one except for her sister. But she died, too, and Juliet was in the Box, having to try and make her life go fine. Fine enough.

And she didn't even know if the owner was or wasn't a Primus - which was exactly what she feared. The possibility of becoming one of those poor girls under his wing.

Well, Juliet never really considered that they may even enjoyed their work, did it as their own choice. But could anyone do that? She just couldn't imagine the possibility, so she crossed it out of her mind quickly enough to question her own morality in writing her chef off as a bad person just for owning all of this.

Juliet wanted to urge herself to take the first step, since the first always was the difficult one. After that, the second, third, and the rest she needed weren't that bad actually. It was just the first.

But the Lithuanian felt her muscles restrain her at the spot she was standing on, and she could do nothing else than let a huff of tension leave her mouth.

If she had believed in the existence of a gut feeling, she wouldn't have gone in there, as a growing almost hurtful pain in said gut emerged whenever she stared into the crowd in the club that Juliet could see from where she stood with the door open.

But he didn't believe in the existence of a gut feeling and went anyways. After so much restraining, after so much bad feelings about going back in there, she just... did it. It didn't matter anyways, right? What'd happen was what'd happen.

After all, she couldn't run away from this situation now. She wanted extra points, she wanted to become a Tertius so bad, and now she had to deal with the consequences of her desire. Now that she thought about it, it might even have gotten her minus points, after all she was working in that filthy excuse for a club.

Juliet groaned, rolling her eyes at herself and trying to focus on the fact that she was already inside and there was so stopping it now.

No stopping it, so no overthinking it.

At least that was what she wished for.

Her boss was creepy, to say the least. He often took her hair into his hands, standing behind her, mumbling something about how her hair looked so healthy and perfect. He smelled at her, and that one time Juliet asked, he said he wanted to get the smell saved in his mind for his girls. He scanned her with his eyes more than Juliet feels comfortable with it, as if he was already thinking about which outfit would suit her best for her first day as a prosti-

He can't just do that. I signed up as a waiter, he can't make me work as a prostitute.

Juliet sighed, resisting the urge to rub her eyes and smear all of her mascara.

"Good evening, sweetheart," she immediately heard, even over that music blasting through giant speakers and people screaming the lyrics to the current song, she could hear her boss loud and clear.

He was standing next to her, whispering in her ear, tugging one strand of hair behind said ear.

She so desperately wanted to tell him to stop, slap him even, scream as loud as she even could. But then she'd lose her job, and he'd probably make sure her points wouldn't see the end of it very quickly.

So Juliet just gulped and looked around to face him, avoiding his eyes still, "I still need to change into my waiter clothes, I was in a hurry."

Oh, she hated this. She hated how attacked she felt in the flirty way her boss was looking at her in that short glance she took at his eyes. She knew that deep inside, she still was a hopeless romantic, but this guy was disgusting to her, flirting was disgusting, and it felt so wrong yet right to even think that romance can be actually good.

It didn't feel right with the image of this creep wanting to romanticize you, not even for a hopeless romantic.

And it didn't feel good to be nice to this creep either, even as a person that used to be thoroughly nice.

"I don't think you need to change into that, actually. I found someone for your position."

She froze.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Sadly didn't stop there.

But it felt as if it was in her throat right after, making her want to puke.

Steady Juliet, don't be scared. Maybe it's not what you think.

"Why am I here, then?" she asked with an tone as polite as she could even manage with all hear fear stabbing her throat at every breath and word.

"Look at you, sweetie, and answer it for yourself. You're tall, you have long, healthy hair, beautiful blue eyes, you have curves and a gorgeous face. Even your skin is healthy and soft, and you're a Quartus that doesn't have the best living qualities."

Juliet's breath quivered as she took it, her hands clenching into fists.

Tears wanted to prick at her eyes, something had positioned itself in her throat so that she could breathe even less. A tight feeling in her throat, a tight feeling in her chest, her whole body was completely tense as she slowly but surely turned her glare to her boss for the first time, looked into his scheming, grey eyes that came right back to her.

"You can't," Juliet managed to fight out, her breath hitching and almost coming out as a sob. She didn't want this. She didn't wish for this. She just wanted to run away, but she knew that the contract she'd signed made that impossible.

"Oh, I definitely can," he growled, before gripping the collar of her clothes to force her to come closer to his face. His grip was threateningly hard, so that her collar even began to choke her ever so slightly.

Her hands shot up to his, trying to get them off in fear of the grip worsening even more and her losing her air completely.

"You are mine, Juliet. You signed it in your contract," he said at such a low tone that the redhead was wondering how she could even grasp it in a full, loud club.

"I signed to be your waiter."

"You signed to be my worker," he hissed, an evil smile creeping onto his lips, "I didn't clarify."

He squeezed harder, making her muscles flex, ready to defend herself and trying to get air through.

No matter how hard he'd choke her, she wouldn't give in. This was her life, her dignity he was talking about.

Her virginity.

"You did! This is a fraud!" Juliet spat, digging her long fingernails into the back of the hands she could reach, making him hiss in pain for one moment.

"Even if it is, who'd care? You're just a little stupid Quartus that got herself into a bad situation, your life isn't worth anything, no one would even try to help you. Because, like I said, what can you even give others with your status? Those celebrating people here are Tertius or higher, do you really think they care for you apart from the pleasure they want from your body?"

Now those tears were in Juliet's eyes as she shivered, sobs burning in her throat. She was helpless. She couldn't do anything against this happening, she never even had any chance. Juliet never should've come there, but now she was here, and now there was no return.

She felt her whole body arch as if it was screaming for her to just run while her brain was trying to sort things out, putting her into a frozen status as she cried mercilessly.

"Now, Juliet, sweetheart, it's your second anniversary of living in the box, isn't it? Get dressed. Get those tears out of your face so you're ready to be celebrated," he said with a smug grin on his face, seemingly knowing that Juliet wouldn't discuss anymore, she'd given up fighting.

He left her.

He left her standing there, glued to the ground by all the negative feelings overwhelming her.

This is just a nightmare.

I'll wake up.

It's just a dream.

It's not real.

Their touches are not real.

The pain is not real.

I don't feel real.

I feel paralyzed.

The blood is not real.

I just want to go.

I just want it to stop.

It's just...

...a nightmare.

Juliet blacked out.

She'd blacked out the entirety of the evening.

The entirety of the pain.

The entirety of those people.

She only came back to real consciousness the moment she was home, tugged in her blankets, crying as literally every breath put her through another wave of horror.

She wanted to die after seeing her sister die.

She wanted to die after being so lonely.

But now she just wanted to cease existing and try to ignore the blood that was coming from places it shouldn't come.

Juliet was dirty now.

They made her dirty.

There was no going back now.