Proof

"So where are we going?" Romeo kept his voice down.

They returned inside, exchanging the guards' and Tybalt's glares for curious glances. Once Julie unmasked herself, it was natural for every eye to gravitate toward her beauty.

And of course, the dark villain's pure white hair drew attention too.

"To my room," Julie pointed her chin forward.

"In the Capulet Estate?!" he choked, slowing down.

"No, dumbass, here. In the Regent Hotel's penthouse," she groaned. "Or you thought my parents only rented the hall? Everyone has a room assigned where they can rest."

Romeo imagined her green eyes rolling, but pushing her wheelchair he didn't get to see them.

"That wasn't exactly lady-like," he faked offense.

"It wasn't? Oh, shit, I'm so very—don't give a damn," Julie scoffed.

Her tone made it clear that she was fooling around, and Romeo didn't mind. If anything, he missed their banter. They hadn't known each other for long, but she was addicting.

"Always being the prim and proper lady is a pain," she sighed. "I figured you wouldn't get hung up on such details, but if you insist—"

"No, no, go ahead," Romeo grinned. "It was surprising, that's all."

Of course, he didn't mind. If that meant he saw a side of Julie Capulet nobody else did, he'd have her swear all day. He already got high on her cinnamon scent from up close.

They reached a corridor, the crowd thinning out.

"Take that elevator to the top floor."

"Yes, ma'am."

She got the Regent Suite for herself, and through some miracle, she made it all messy in a single day. She pushed herself off her wheelchair, skipping towards an enormous bed.

She popped open a laptop before Romeo got the wrong idea.

"Woah, that thing saw better days," he commented.

It must have been older than both of them put together, and from scratches to burn marks, it had everything. Seeing how Julie treated her room, he wasn't even surprised.

"Why's your family splurging on fancy balls if they can't afford a laptop for their only daughter?" Romeo teased, earning a glare.

"There's nothing wrong with this one," she shrugged.

Her fingers almost caressed the keyboard. Romeo had to assume she had a close connection to that ancient piece. It could have been a hand-me-down.

From someone important—that wasn't him.

"I never thought you'd be this messy, missy," Romeo scanned the room.

Julie patted the bed beside her, looking impatient.

"Are you here to analyze me, or will you take a look at this?"

"I hope it's not math," he mumbled, but happy for the invitation. Julie raised her eyebrows as he plopped down. "I know you're a genius inventor, but those things go over my head."

"Ah? No, but—thanks?" She blushed, recovering fast. "Here," she turned the screen. "My father got the footage before they took us to the hospital. An hour later it was gone—classified."

"What footage?" he asked dumbfounded.

The beautiful firefighter inches away was too distracting. The video was a low frame rate grayscale security recording from Verona High.

A crowd gathered at the entrance, and someone threw a punch.

"Oh yeah, that's Tybalt," he noted as chaos erupted.

"That's not important, keep watching." Past Julie lost her phone, fumbling for it.

A truck entered the frame, and BAM—she was in Romeo's arms.

It was too sudden—jarring, impossible. His cousin ran to him, and the driver followed.

"Huh? Is this edited?" Romeo asked, confused. "I thought I passed out for a few minutes."

"Nope. Let's go frame by frame," Julie replayed it. "Look for yourself. There."

His past self—with black curls—kept away from the crowd, spilling over the street. He recognized the chilling moment when the semi appeared, and he shouted Julie's name.

Struggling through the fighting mass was an uphill battle.

By the time he emerged on their other side, the truck was a few feet away from the girl, and he had a dozen yards between them. He blinked, and Julie was in his arms.

"Wait, hold on, again," he demanded, leaning even closer.

Julie skipped a few frames back. He was at the edge of the crowd—too far. Then, in the next frame, a strange glow enveloped him. A blip and he was gone.

He found himself yards away—his hair white—the truck's bumper bent and the girl saved.

"How?!" he scratched his head, re-watching the scene a dozen times.

"Well, I was hoping you'd explain," Julie shrugged, probing his reaction. "When they told me in the hospital that you've saved me, I didn't even think about the distances involved."

"I've no idea," Romeo wracked his brain. "I don't remember much."

There was that feeling when his veins prickled with electricity, but he leaped in blind. He was in so much pain, but when he opened his eyes—it was gone.

The footage seemed doctored, but it wasn't.

"Are you some kind of superhuman?" Julie's eyes sparkled.

He asked himself this question a lot these days. Not with those words—am I a mutant, an abomination? He thought of the Church's reaction or imagined his friends turning away.

Watching his transformation on camera sent a chill down his spine.

But the Capulet heir's gaze was full of excitement. Hope.

"Look at the truck too. You smashed it to pieces," she pointed out before he responded. "And you didn't have a scratch on you. How? This is so crazy."

"It is, and I wish I knew," Romeo shook his head.

He had theories at most, but how much should he tell?

She was like an excited child, bright eyes bouncing between the video and his face. She even wore a costume, but so did Romeo—and he was the villain.

The words Paris told him intruded into his thoughts.

"We're the same," he mumbled, earning a confused expression. "Um, that's what your husband said," Romeo let it slip, the words turning sour in his mouth.

"My husband?!" she put her fist on her hips. "If you mean Paris, we're not even engaged yet."

"But you will be," he shrugged, earning a punch on his arm.

"It's not my decision. He's a creep—but I didn't know you were friends?"

It was Romeo's turn to glare, though he wouldn't punch her.

"No, he visited me in the hospital after you left," he explained, "the cryptic bastard. He said we're the same and—" Romeo took a deep breath and bit the bullet, "to ask about Vat 16."

Julie's expression shifted. From narrowing her eyebrows to widening her eyes, he saw recognition. And something else—fear.

"How does Paris even know about the vats?" her grip tightened. "Only a handful of people know about the old destroyed X-137 lab—"

"What?" Romeo's heart rate increased. "Lab X-137? How many labs do you even have?"

"No, um, the 137 in the lab's name refers to a radioactive Cesium isotope," Julie shook her head. She grabbed his shoulders. "I'll explain it later, but what did he say exactly?!"

"Uh—that I should ask my father about Vat 16, and his last project with your folks."

"And did you?" She looked less scared and more impatient now.

"I couldn't reach him ever since."

"Oh, boy," Julie smirked. "Then you'll be in for a wild ride!"