2. Juliet used to hate singing in front of other people.

...I used to be a performing baby- one of those annoying 2-year-olds who can’t keep a tune to save his life but is put onstage at family reunions anyway and is always a big hit just because he is so darn cute.
Since Juliet and I grew up closer than your average kids-on-the-block our moms got the excellent idea of having us perform together at some birthday party.
Well, okay. It was a good idea, in theory. We practiced, managed some toddler choreography, and that was when I learned that not only can Juliet sing better than me (which, face it, isn’t all that difficult) but she can also sing better than anyone I’d ever heard on the radio or on Barney.
But when the actual party rolled around Juliet disappeared.
Actually, I'll admit I wasn’t too concerned. I’d found the snack table (the top of which happened to be at least two inches over my head- I’ve always been short) and occupied myself with stuffing as much food into my mouth as possible.
I performed the routine on my own, but the effect wasn’t the same. (Honestly, I’m not even related to the celebrant- he’s Juliet’s grandfather.) Later, when all the guests had cleared out we found Juliet sitting in a small storage room listening to the wireless.
That was when I got upset. “I sang all by myself and your grandpa was happy you didn’t sing with me!” I told her triumphantly. (Side note: most of this dialogue came from a constant retelling of this story by our rather nostalgic mothers. No, my memory is not that good.)
“He did not!”
“Did too!”
Juliet paused and used her index finger to push her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Well, I didn’t want to sing anyway.”
I was confused. I’m not too fond of the spotlight, either, but my mom taught me to appreciate the art of being a ham. “Why not?”
She shrugged, her finger spinning the dial on the radio back and forth absentmindedly. “I don’t know. I just don’t like to, is all.”
“But you can sing,” I said.
“Better than you,” she teased, knowing that would get to me.
“No way.” I was lying.
“Yeah, I can. But it’s a secret. Nobody’s ever gonna know.”
That, my friends, is what is known as irony.
To this day, I have no idea what made her say that. I’ve puzzled it over quite a bit since Juliet’s rise to fame. Because singing is the reason she left everything- including me- behind.