Tonight is the big night. My parents are finally allowing me to attend one of their balls. And not just any ball– a masquerade ball. Ever since I was a little girl, I have always dreamed of going to one of these famed dances. Everyone in Verona is invited, and almost no one ever misses it. Allow me to correct myself: almost everyone is invited. There is only one family in town that is forbidden to come– the Montagues. Lord Montague is my father's enemy and his kin are beyond contemptible in our eyes. They avoid us, and we avoid them. But I digress….

Mother was so happy that I would finally be attending a ball that she had a dress and mask specifically made for the event. She wouldn't let me see them until the night that I would wear them- tonight. She had come to my bedroom door as I was getting ready and asked me to close my eyes. When I opened them, I beheld the most beautiful dress that I had ever seen. It was made of pale pink silk with gold embroidery. There were tiny yellow roses sewn all over the skirt. The sleeves cinched above the elbow and flared to the wrist, and the hem floated around my ankles. The neckline, sleeves, and hem were trimmed in white lace. To complete the ensemble, Mother had brought a pair of yellow dancing slippers and gold rose hair pins. She pinned my wavy blonde tresses expertly and stepped back to admire her handiwork.

"My dearest daughter," she said, "you have never looked more beautiful than you do at this moment." I gave her a shy smile in return for her sweet compliment.

"But it's still missing something. Ah, I know," she said with a sly grin on her face. She walked over to my dressing table and picked up a box that I hadn't noticed before.

"Well, open it," she said as she handed it to me. When I looked inside, I saw the set of jewelry that Father had given Mother as a wedding present. There was a pair of pearl earrings, two pearl bracelets, and a heart-shaped locket dangling from the end of a string of pearls. And at the very bottom of the box, there lay a gold embroidered mask with a yellow ribbon in the back.

"Oh, Mother," I exclaimed, fighting back tears of joy, "I don't know what to say, except thank you!" I gave her a warm hug, which she returned. When we pulled apart, she stepped back and softly caressed my cheek in the way that only a mother can do.

"Now," she said, "the ball is about to start. We would not want to be late, now, would we?" She linked arms with me and whisked me out of my bedroom.

As we walked down the hall towards the staircase, Mother suddenly remarked, "Oh, honey, you do look so pretty tonight. I imagine that Paris will agree with my assessment." At the mention of Paris, I stopped in my tracks. Paris was the man that Mother and Father wanted me to wed. Needless to say, I did not exactly share in their sentiments. I am sure that he was a nice gentleman, but the mere mention of his name sent a shiver of panic down my spine. Mother looked at me with concern written clearly on her countenance.

"Darling, what's wrong? You look like you have seen a ghost."

"It's nothing, Mother," I replied, plastering a smile on my visage. "I was simply lost in my thoughts for a moment." As we reached the staircase and descended to the bottom, my mother turned to me again.

"Dear, I love that you are a thoughtful child. Please, though, try not to become lost in your thoughts again when you are conversing with Paris tonight. We would not wish to scare off the poor man, sweetie."

She guided me into the ballroom, where the party was about to begin. There were tables filled to bursting with hors d'oeuvres on the left side and the orchestra on the right side. The back wall boasted a row of French doors leading to large balcony.

Mother steered me towards a small cloud of people near the buffet tables. I stared intently at my slippers trudging unwillingly across the marble floor: black, white, black white. I stopped waking when I saw a shiny pair of black dress shoes. I looked up and saw a tall, handsome young man with medium-brown hair and dark eyes. Mother introduced him as Paris, my seemingly future husband. He started talking to me, but I was not listening closely to his words. Throughout this farce of a conversation, he smiled and laughed many times at most everything that Mother, Father, or my cousin Tybalt were saying. By the time that five minutes had elapsed, I desperately needed to leave in order to preserve what minute scrap of sanity that I still dared to possess. I excused myself as politely as I could manage – under the most convincing guise of hunger – and dashed to the food. After grabbing a few delectable items, I noticed two young men emerging from the rightmost balcony door, consumed with each other's laughter.

Their exit from the balcony persuaded me to hide from Paris outside. As I opened that same set of doors through which those boys had just strolled, a rush of sweet, warm summer air greeted me kindly and gently tugged me further into the night. The crickets chirped in the slowly swaying branches that overhung the balcony railing. I rested my plate on the edge of the railing and enjoyed the silent serenity of a blissful summer night.

Suddenly, I heard a rustling in the tree to my right, and a head popped up out of nowhere. I stepped back a little in surprise, and the head gave an apologetic crooked smile. He climbed onto the balcony to assume a somewhat dignified appearance, but he failed most miserably when we both realized that he still had bits of leaves stuck all over his clothes. After he removed the leaves and was finally presentable, I could accurately take in his features. He was about a head taller than me with a lean build. He had dark brown hair that had rebelled against his many attempts to flatten it. His eyes were the most striking sapphire blue that I had ever beheld (a most welcome change from my pale green orbs), and I lingered on those for a fair few seconds before continuing my scan. His maroon and gold clothes were made of finest silk, but he was dressed relatively simply with only a black and gold mask to complement his attire.

"Please accept my deepest and most sincere apologies, my lady. I was not aware that I would be embarrassing myself in the company of such a lovely audience this evening." At this verbose statement, he gave an extravagant bow.

I giggled at his display and replied, "You are forgiven, kind sir, for the show was quite entertaining."

"I appreciate your candor, milady," he said as he took my hand and kissed it. "So, while we're not on the topic, what is a pretty little thing like you doing away from a wonderful party like this?"

"Well...," I began, and I recounted the evening's woeful tale.

"My, oh my, that is a tragic tale indeed. I have recently experienced a situation on the opposite end of the spectrum. The girl with whom I thought I was in love has told me, in no uncertain terms, that she does not reciprocate my sentiments. This understandably brought me undue misery, and I have been skulking around these past few days. My friends suggested that we attend this party, so I begrudgingly followed them here. Now that I am here, though, and in most wondrous company, I am quite glad that I listened to them."

"I must admit that your story is far more melancholy than my own. I am sure that the lass of whom you speak deserves none of the love that you can give."

We carried on like this through the night, telling each other amusing anecdotes that gradually revealed more and more of our parallel personalities. Whenever we would hear some music that we liked, we would start to dance, laughing when one of us missed a step. One of the later dances was a slow and beautiful waltz. As the dance progressed, we became closer and closer to each other until our noses were almost touching. Near the end of the dance, he leaned in closer to me and slowly untied my mask.

"There," he said. "Now I can see the full beauty of your brightly glowing face. I will grant you the equal pleasure of seeing my face, as I believe that it is almost as beautiful as your own."

He placed the masks on the railing of the balcony and resumed the dance. He took a step closer to me and gently cupped my face in his hands. I closed my eyes and leaned into him as he gave me my first kiss. I felt like I was soaring through the glowing clouds of the brightest sunset into the sunlight of my future. When the song ended and we broke apart, his eyes of sapphire locked with mine of peridot, and we both smiled and sighed as we realized that we were probably in love.

At that moment, I deemed it necessary to discover the name of this lovely and mysterious gentleman. "Dear sir," I started, "as I do not wish to call you that for the rest of our lives, I believe it prudent to ask you your name, and to give you mine in return."

"My name, dear lady?" he retorted with a grin. "Why, if you insist on such formalities, I will reveal it to you. My name is Romeo Montague. And now, if you might tell me what you are called, for I share your sentiment about our names."

I stared at him for a second, mouth hanging open in shock. I had just fallen in love with my family's enemy. How could this have happened to me? I debated whether or not I should tell him. Just as I had decided to tell him that I was his nemesis, the doors burst open as Romeo's companions ran over to the tree by which they had entered.

"Come on!" they shouted at him. "Terrible Tybalt discovered us here! We have to go now!"

Romeo turned to me and said, "I'll come back later to claim my prize – your identity. Farewell for now, my love!" As they all climbed down the tree and escaped through the orchard, I heard his comrades ask him if he knew who I was.

When he replied in the negative, they said, "You don't know? That's old Capulet's daughter, Juliet!" The last thing I saw before Tybalt led me back inside was the face of Romeo looking back at me in heartbreaking confusion.

My name is Juliet Capulet, and I have just fallen for my enemy.