The Predicament of Persians - A.G. Henley Page 0,3

now. I don’t know what he looks like, do you?”

Viv shrugs and shakes her head. “But you’re right. He’s so rude.” She pats my shoulder. “Don’t worry, the Catulets have your back. We’ll make sure Juliet wins Best Newcomer tomorrow night. We’ve all voted.”

I swallow hard and smile gratefully at them. “I hope you’re right. You two did a great job getting the word out about the award.”

Jess pulls her hair over her shoulder. “Juliet has it in the bag. Listen, we’re headed to dinner. We’ll see you tomorrow at the meet and greet.”

I consider asking if I can join them as Viv takes Jess’s hand. It would be fun to hang out with fans, but I chicken out.

Viv waves. “Have a good night and make sure you and Juliet get your beauty rest.” They wind through the tables and out of the lounge.

I sigh and read through the post comments. Several Catulets have commented on Juliet’s account to say they can’t wait to meet her tomorrow or Sunday at the official Instagram CelebriCat meet and greets. I type out enthusiastic responses, and then I respond to Romeo’s owner.

julietcatulet: @romeo.meowtague Whatever. Go hide under a rock. I’m the feline queen and everyone knows it. #CatFestDenver #IGCelebriCat #julietforbestnewbie

Several fans pipe in quickly, backing me up. I know it’s childish to fight like this. Part of me means what I say, and part of me panders to my fans, who seem to love Romeo and Juliet’s catfights. The fact that the cats, or at least their owners, are not only clearly not in love, but actively feud, seems to delight them more.

For fun, and only after I’d realized Juliet loved it, I’d started taking pictures of her in handmade silk or satin medieval dresses and posting them on Instagram with Shakespearean quotes as captions. As her fandom grew, I’d posed her on my porch swing in the moonlight or with James dressed as her Nurse. Which I’d paid him well for and which he’d hated doing. Which had made me want to do it more often.

The more Shakespearean posts I’d created for Juliet’s account, the more her fame had grown. After a particularly well liked-and-shared post six months ago, she’d gone viral. Now, incredibly, she has a million and a half followers. I created a few pieces of Juliet Catulet merchandise like T-shirts and mugs to sell online and the first batch sold in less than a day.

Other than the meet and greets tomorrow and Sunday, Juliet and I have a dinner and awards ceremony tomorrow night. Well, I have the dinner and awards ceremony. Cats aren’t allowed. And finally, I’m meeting a Purina representative about sponsorship over breakfast on Sunday morning. I shiver with excitement.

If things go well tomorrow night, and Juliet wins the Best Newcomer award that she’s nominated for, then I might be able to 1) work fewer hours at the hair salon where I currently slave away six days a week, 2) build a real business around Juliet’s success, and 3) get James his own apartment.

James needs to get his own place. Yesterday. The Purina sponsorship could be his ticket to adulting and mine to freedom.

A notification appears on my phone, and my mood sours. It’s another comment from Romeo. I mean, not really. After all, Romeo Meowtague is a cat—a very handsome black Persian cat with copper colored eyes and a self-assured expression. The comment is from his horrible owner, whom I’ve never met, or even seen, but assume must be male due to his smarmy arrogance.

romeo.meowtague: @julietcatulet The queen of what? Just curious #romeorules

julietcatulet: @romeo.meowtague You, for one thing. Obviously. #julietforbestnewbie

romeo.meowtague: @julietcatulet Snort. Please, queen, spare me. We’ll settle this once and for all tomorrow night. #romeorules

I make a scornful sound.

Romeo’s owner and I have feuded since he’d showed up one day on the Instagram scene and stole my Shakespeare theme, trying to horn in on Juliet’s fame. He dresses Romeo in little doublets or blousy shirts and tights with wooden swords next to him and the occasional vial of fake poison.

He’d direct messaged me early on about a collaboration. It had made a certain sense, joining the accounts of feline Juliet and Romeo. But on top of stealing my theme, he’d been so pushy and unprofessional about it, sending me repeated DMs when I hadn’t responded right away and never telling me his real name, that I’d soured on the idea almost immediately. We’d gone back and forth for a while before I’d finally said