Chapter Text
Bright lights glared into her eyes, almost blinding her, and Penelope Featherington fidgeted in front of a giant blue wall in a secluded room in Salford, just outside of Manchester. The camera crew smiled reassuringly at her, and she took one last sip out of her bottle of water before setting it aside. To her left, a crew member began a silent countdown, bringing her fingers to a closed position and indicating they were ready to roll.
Penelope took a deep, steadying breath, plastered a confident smile on her face she didn’t necessarily feel, and looked into the camera in front of her. “Hi. I’m Penelope, and I’m 28 years old and am from London. I’m a romance writer, and absolutely obsessed with how people interact with one another both in-person and online. Sometimes there’s such a dichotomy between the two, with social media bringing out both the best and worst in people.”
Her smile relaxed, her grin becoming more natural as she began to feel more comfortable. Well, as comfortable as an introvert could be in front of a bajillion television cameras. “Honestly, between you and me?” She leaned in slightly, dropping her voice just a tad and holding one hand up as if spilling a juicy secret. “Social media—and The Circle—are fascinating character studies.”
She rocked back on her heels, giggling slightly. “But, much like the characters in my books—I have a secret. Because of who I am I’ve decided to not go in as myself, but rather as a character I’ve completely made up and using the photos of my assistant Mira—with her permission, of course. Looks-wise Mira is the perfect combination of sexy and girl-next-door. She’s absolutely stunning in my book. And the character I’ve created?” Penelope paused and tapped her chin, searching for the right words. “Adeline is probably one of my favorite characters to-date, and you might just see her in a future book at some point.”
Penelope tilted her head teasingly towards the camera, her grin full of secrets and mischief. She somehow remembered to follow the instructions she’d been given earlier and continued to look into the main camera until she’d been given the okay, and she felt her body relax as the film crew began to murmur and move around in front of her.
“That was amazing, Penelope,” said Zane, the guy in charge and person who’d given her directions prior to filming. She had no idea what his actual title or role were since she was completely clueless when it came to the specifics of film production, but she did know that he’d immediately put her at ease with his friendly demeanor and gentle guidance. “Now, we need to get some of what I like to call the ‘fun shots.’ You know the ones during the intros where the contestants are doing silly things like sitting inside of a circle in a wall, making funny faces, dancing, doing things that relate to them?”
Penelope swallowed and shoved down the feeling of discomfort that tried to creep through her body. She’d known that those shots would be a part of this too, and even though it totally wasn’t her, she was willing to do it.
Not because she necessarily needed the prize money—no, she’d managed to build a quite comfortable life for herself through first her freelance work and now from her novels—but because she needed to prove she could do it. Because while she was wildly successful to anyone looking in from the outside, on the inside, she was a hot fucking mess who’d been stuck inside her shell for so long she was surprised it hadn’t started to grow mold.
Plus, her best friend Eloise Bridgerton had basically dared her to do this, and if there was one thing Penelope had never been able to refuse, it was a challenge issued by Eloise.
“You okay?” Zane asked.
She nodded. “Slightly out of my comfort zone, but yeah. I’m good. I apologize in advance for the number of times we might have to do this, though.”
Zane laughed and said, “You would be surprised at how many people say that. Some of our contestants are complete hams, but sometimes even the most extroverted ones have trouble with this part.”
His words made her feel slightly better.
“Alright, first we’ll get some shots of you just doing stuff. Basically, think about what you said during your intro, and do things and make facial expressions that you think would go along with that.”
Music began to pump through the room, and she smiled as soon as she recognized the song. “One Direction? Seriously?” She asked Zane, laughing.
He shrugged, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve found that absolutely no one can resist ‘What Makes You Beautiful.’ It’s infectious.”
And he was right. The song took her back to the days when she was in high school writing absolutely abysmal One Direction fan fiction, making her smile, dance, and react to the memories as they played through her mind. "What Makes You Beautiful" faded into "She Looks So Perfect" by 5 Seconds of Summer, and she quickly glanced over at Zane, wondering if the crew had somehow found out about those high school and university fan fiction days considering the four boys from Australia had also featured prominently in her musings back then. His gaze, however, was completely focused on the monitor beside him and gave absolutely nothing away. Besides, it was absolutely impossible not to dance to the silly little underwear song from the band that was still one of her all-time favorites.
As "She Looks So Perfect" came to an end, an idea struck Penelope. She walked over to the bag she’d placed in a chair next to the door, rummaged through it until she found what she was looking for, and returned to her spot in front of the camera. Making sure the book was right-side up—a tattered copy of The Princess Bride that she’d read so many times she’d lost count—she looked back at the camera, then cheekily held the book up so that it was covering the lower part of her face, then lowering it while raising her eyebrows and smirking.
Several members of the camera crew chuckled, egging her on. She flipped through the pages. Paused as though she was reading a scene, her finger following the words. She felt as though someone else entirely had taken possession of her body. Someone cooler, more outgoing, more confident, as she continued to pose with the book and make silly faces. It was like an out of body experience, and it wasn’t until Zane yelled, “Cut!” some time later that Penelope came back to herself.
The music had stopped, and the entire camera crew was staring at her with inscrutable looks on their faces. A trickle of sweat ran down her spine, and she wrapped her arms around herself, the book pressed tightly into her breasts. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the lights once again glaring, their heat causing another bead of sweat to roll down her lower back.
Zane quickly walked towards her, a giant smile blooming across his face. “Penelope, that was absolutely brilliant!”
She blinked. “It was?”
“Oh my God, yes! You’re amazing!”
She didn’t know about all that…but she felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders at his praise. “Thanks. I don’t know where that came from.”
“Wherever it came from, it was absolutely inspired. Now, we just need to get a couple of shots of you in the circle, and we’re all set.”
She turned around and looked at the circle in the wall behind her. “Uh, Zane?”
“Yeah?”
“How the fuck am I supposed to get up there?”
Several members of the camera crew burst into laughter, making Penelope’s ears and cheeks burn with embarrassment.
Zane chuckled, patting her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, we have a stepladder. Believe it or not, you’re not the shortest contestant we’ve had on this show.”
Penelope thought back to previous seasons and contestants, realizing that what Zane said was true. Still, though, the bottom of that circle was at her freaking chin! How did normal height people even get into that thing?
One of the crew members placed said stepladder right below the circle, and Penelope walked over to it, grateful she’d worn trousers instead of a skirt for this. There was absolutely no way she could have gotten up there and settled without giving the entire crew a free show.
Once she was settled, the stepladder was whisked away and music once again began to pump through the room. Not entirely sure what she was supposed to do, Penelope thought back to previous seasons and contestants’ introductions.
Just try to relax, silly. And don’t look down.
Of course that was when she looked down, and a slight wave of nausea rolled through her belly. She swallowed against it, closed her eyes and breathed through her nose.
You can do this. Just do some stupid poses in this stupid circle, look like you’re enjoying yourself, and you can get down from here.
She took a few more deep breaths, willing her body to relax, gripped the edges of the wall cutout underneath her, and tentatively swung her feet. Realizing she wasn’t going to fall and that the cutout was actually quite thick, she relaxed a bit more, her eyes slowly opening and looking straight ahead.
Channeling her inner Adeline—she was here to play a character, after all—she forced a smile on her face, batted her eyelashes and swung her legs a few times before shifting so that her back was leaning against the inside edge of the circle, her feet propped up on the opposite edge. Feeling something poking into her thigh, she reached underneath her and grabbed the book she’d apparently carried up here with her. Grinning, she slouched down into a more comfortable position and opened the book as if she were lounging in a window seat and reading on a very sunny day.
“And, cut!” Zane’s announcement once again jolted her, sending the book crashing to the floor and her almost along with it. Somehow she managed to catch herself, heart pounding in her chest and sweat once again rolling down her spine.
“Shit, Penelope! Are you okay?” Zane and a couple other members of the camera crew rushed towards her, one carrying the step stool.
“Yes, yes. I’m fine. Just a bit startled, that’s all.”
As soon as the stepladder was set up, Penelope swung her legs down and quickly made her way back to solid ground. She retrieved her book from where it had fallen, crushing it to her chest as she wrapped her arms around herself.
“You did amazing, Penelope.”
“If you say so…” she laughed nervously.
“No, you really did,” said the crew member who’d handled the stepladder.
“Oh, thanks, uh…”
“Patrick,” he smiled in response.
“Patrick,” Penelope said, completing her sentence.
Penelope walked back over to her bag, slid The Princess Bride back into it, and slung it over her shoulder. “Do you all know where I go next?”
Zane, who’d been glancing at something on one of the monitors, glanced over at her. “There should be someone waiting out in the corridor.”
“Oh, okay. Well, it was nice meeting you all.” Penelope waved awkwardly and walked to the door that led into a long hallway. Another bead of sweat rolled down her spine, and she tucked a red curl behind her ear before twisting the handle and stepping out into the brightly lit corridor.
The first thing she saw was her suitcase. The second was the staff member, Bianca, who’d led her to this room what seemed like days ago. The young woman smiled at her warmly. “How’d it go in there?”
“Uh…Okay I guess. I felt a little awkward, but it was also kind of fun.”
Bianca leaned towards Penelope, her eyes twinkling. “Believe it or not, a lot of people say that.” She looked down at the tablet in her hand and nodded her head before looking back at Penelope. “Alright, you ready to go to your apartment?”
Penelope took a deep breath, grabbed the handle of her suitcase and nodded. “Let’s do this.”