4.0

“Do you ever want to not be yourself? Just for a night?”
I laugh faintly. “All the bloody time.”
“No, no,” he sits up. “Don’t say it like that. You’ve got to say, ‘abso-bloody-lutely I do.’”
“Abso-bloody-lutely,” I say, my voice breaking into a laugh on the final syllable.
Monty grins. “See? Then it’s not tragic-it’s just funny.”
“It’s still quite tragic.”
“I know. We are goddamn tragic, aren’t we? Bloody operas, we Montagues.”