True, Juliet was a very clever young woman and would easily thrive by herself. She wasn't work-shy, either: she had taken up a part-time job as a barista in her last few months of study.
Montague, likewise, had found weekend work as a gardener's assistant. Whilst he was grateful for the experience and pay, he felt the uniform left something to be desired.
Still, as gifted as Juliet was, Myron knew it was always good to have a safety net.
Lady Amelia, who had always reveled in playing matchmaker, took up the challenge with gusto.
And thus, shortly after her graduation, Juliet - the guest of honour at her aunt's incredible banquet - was introduced to some of the brightest stars in the social galaxy. The majority of them bored her, or else, were hardly her type... but then, as the night was drawing to a close, she made the acquaintance of a young businessman, Jonathan Diego Stanton.
The son of a marketing mogul, William, and his Spanish opera singer bride, Carmen, Jonathan Diego - or J.D. for short - was fascinated by Juliet's knowledge of the sciences, and enthralled by her quick wit. Juliet, who appreciated those who admired her for reasons beyond her looks, was equally impressed with his work ethic and his own great sense of humour.
Right from the beginning, it was love.
The match was made. A few months later, they were wed.
Sadly, Katrina never got to see her youngest daughter wearing white. Merely a few weeks before the blessed day, her time finally ran out, and she passed over into Paradise.
Myron was heartbroken.
Whilst shouldering his own grief, Montague did all that he could to care for his father. As Myron took time off work to recuperate, Montague - upon his twenty-first birthday, his great leap into adulthood - decided to put his various eccentricities to good use, and earned an income by pursuing a career in comedy.
To say Montague was a perfectionist would be an understatement. After gigs in the local nightclubs, he would stay up until the early hours of the morning writing and rehearsing his material. To improve his bookability even further, he took violin lessons in the little spare time he had, so he could play his audience songs between routines.
Myron eventually felt well enough to return to work, but Montague knew, deep down, that part of him was lost forever. He would never be the same.
The Miskin Legacy had become too heavy a burden for his father to bear.
Now, the responsibility was his.
THUS ENDS GENERATION ONE