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Nic: !!!!!!!!
Nic: Have you had them yet?
Luke: Had what?
Nic: First scripts just arrived!
Luke: Whaaaat? I haven’t had mine yet!
Luke: Scratch that, literally just delivered
Nic: I’m so excited!
Nic: And nervous
Nic: Did you want to go through them together still?
Luke: Absolutely
Luke: Did you want to come over?
Nic: I’d love to 🙂
Nic: Send me your address
Nic: I’ll try not to peek before I get there x
Luke had sent the invitation before he had the chance to second-guess it. By now, he’d frequented her flat on the other side of London, meeting up almost every week since that first dinner party. He had surprised himself by how comfortable he found himself in her surroundings, in her presence , in spite of his confusing feelings towards Nicola Coughlan. It made no sense to him how, when they were apart, she could occupy his mind so stubbornly, churning a concoction of anxiety and guilt within him. And yet somehow, she seemed to be the only person capable of ridding him of those same troubles the moment she was near. She was poison and medicine combined in one tiny little bottle, and it was troubling how he was quickly growing dependent on her.
Still, this was the first time they’d met anywhere besides her flat. This time, he’d invited her into his own realm, and for reasons he couldn’t fathom, he was all the more nervous for it. He placed down the brown paper envelope containing the first two scripts of their season, denying himself the advantage of a sneak peek, and turned his attention to his surroundings. Jade’s breakfast dishes were stacked next to the sink, and the lounge was still in the mess he hadn’t gotten around to dealing with after a games night the night before. What if Nic thought he was some kind of slob? It needed to be sorted - he couldn’t focus with the distractions around him. And he needed to give Nicola his undivided attention. He made quick work of the kitchen, and the scattered pillows and blankets were soon back in their rightful place along the sofa, but he dragged around the vacuum cleaner for good measure. He put on a pot of coffee to brew (it felt a little early in the day for their usual bottle of wine), and tapped anxiously against the kitchen counter as he awaited her arrival.
Nic: I’m outside
Nic: (I think)
Luke allowed himself a deep breath and a shake of the shoulders before heading to the front door. It was just another meeting. It didn’t matter where they were. As he opened the door, he found Nicola standing cautiously on the strip of pavement between his place and next door.
“Why doesn’t anybody have bloody door numbers in this street?” she laughed, her eyes lighting up as they found him. Just like clock work, the bubble of anxiety in the pit of his stomach popped, ceasing to exist in her presence.
“It adds to the mystery, doesn’t it?” he chuckled, beckoning her with a jerk of his head. She quickly obeyed, giving his arm an excitable squeeze as she filtered past him, leaving a soft scent of citrus and vanilla in her wake. Luke followed behind her, watching as her eyes scanned around his living room, silently casting her judgement.
“Nice place,” he remarked, drawing a rosy warmth to his cheeks. He realised she was probably just being kind; it was a little more humble than her own abode. She dropped comfortably to the sofa, clutching her own brown envelope in her lap. “Have you peeked yet?” she asked mischievously.
Luke shook his head, gesturing to the sealed envelope sat on the coffee table. “Fair is fair.” Nicola raised an eyebrow in suspicion, grabbing his copy to make certain. She seemed appeased, and he chuckled as she wiggled out a little happy dance in her seat. She was precious, really. “Can I get you a coffee?”
“Ehm, do you have ice?” she asked, causing Luke’s brow to furrow.
“Uh… probably.”
“Could I have an iced coffee?”
“It’s February,” he laughed, and she did too.
“I’m a creature of habit,” she shrugged.
Luke nodded, adding a note to his ever-growing mental list of her particularities. “Iced coffee it is, then. Normal milk okay?”
“Whatever you’ve got,” she hummed, reclining into her seat. It was fascinating to see how quickly she allowed herself to become comfortable, knowing how his own body ached with anxiety the first time he’d knocked on her door. He disappeared into the kitchen, quickly returning with a milky iced drink and a mug of black coffee of his own.
“Come on then,” he grinned, settling beside her as he placed the drinks on the table. “Do the honours.” Nicola didn’t need to be asked twice, eagerly opening both envelopes with a ceremonial fanfare sung from her peachy lips as she handed him his copy. His stomach churned in anticipation to discover how their story would play out. They had been given an overview early on, shortly after they found out the upcoming season would belong to them, but they were just as eager as each other to dive into the finer details. They flicked in unison to the opening page of dialogue, his heart skipping a beat as his eyes found that iconic opening line: Dearest Gentle Reader.
“Oh god, I feel sick,” Nicola giggled, nudging her knee against his. The lead up to this moment had crept up on him for months, piling weight upon his shoulders with every passing day, but now - it felt real. Very, very real. Nicola took the lead, racing aloud through directions and the iconic Whistledown introduction until they reached Colin’s arrival.
The Bridgertons look towards the square to find a gaggle of debutants fawning over a mystery gentleman. A young lady drops her glove intently. COLIN enters the frame, picking up the glove and returning it to its owner with a kiss to the hand and a flirtatious smirk.
“Oh god,” Luke scoffed, hiding an embarrassed grin.
“Oh, dude’s got game!” Nicola teased with a nudge of her elbow, before continuing her speedy narration. It hadn’t taken long for the script to dictate his shirtless form, but he expected nothing less. “And he’s sturdy, too. Good job you’ve been hitting the gym, big man.”
“What a weird adjective,” he offered in failed deflection, only prompting Nicola to squeeze her tiny hand around his bicep.
“No, I’d say they’re pretty spot on, actually,” she giggled. Luke felt that familiar warmth return to his cheeks, certain it would be there to stay, growing darker with every time she made contact with his burning skin. Luckily, she seemed to be enthralled by the page to notice.
As they continued, Luke allowed his imagination to run wild with Nicola’s narration, now desperate to see the words come to life. She paused periodically to add her thoughts, brimming with excitement to see Penelope’s transformation unfold. Her eyes lit up as she read the words ‘glimmering emerald gown’ . “The reign of the Spongebob Penelope is finally over!” she sang, shaking her fist in victory.
“I’m going to miss your pineapple dresses, actually,” he retorted, earning a roll of her eyes.
“Liar,” she grinned. In truth, he didn’t really have a particular attachment to them - he just dreaded how his mind and body may react at the sight of Nicola in Penelope’s new looks, carefully crafted to accentuate every perfect curve of her - no, Penelope’s - body.
“Maybe I should hide from you before we shoot that scene,” she pondered. “Get your real reaction for the camera.” He could tell from her grin that she was half joking… but boy, would those cameras get the shot they were looking for.
“Maybe,” he hummed, forcing dangerous thoughts to the corners of his mind.
Soon, the pages lead them to a moment they had been anticipating since the night they shot that fateful garden scene. They both knew how much weight Penelope’s confrontation held both to the story and to the fanbase. Luke still got scornful messages daily, as if he were able to pass on the fan’s sentiments to Colin himself, and Nicola had made no secret of how much she was looking forward to playing out the moment the tables would turn.
“Oh, you’re getting it, Newton,” she beamed. “Here it comes.”
“Should we run it?” he suggested, keen to let her take the win. She nodded eagerly, pivoting her body to face him, coughing to clear her throat.
PENELOPE
Goodnight, Mr Bridgerton
COLIN
Do you not need a chaperone?
PENELOPE
Spinsters do not need chaperones
COLIN
You are not a spinster
PENELOPE
I am in my third year on the marriage mart with no prospects to show for it. What would you call that?
COLIN
Is something wrong, Pen? Between us I mean? I wrote to you this summer, as I always do, and you did not respond. Admittedly, very few did, but if you’re going to make me say it outloud: I miss you.
PENELOPE scoffs, the last thread of her patience finally snapping. She turns to COLIN boldly and does not hold back.
PENELOPE
You miss me? You miss me but you would never court me, is that correct?
COLIN is lost for words, stuttering and fumbling.
COLIN
Pen, I…
PENELOPE
I overheard you last season at my Mama’s ball, telling everyone how you would never, ever court Penelope Featherington.
COLIN looks sheepishly over PENELOPE’s shoulder, nodding curtly at the approaching lord and lady.
COLIN
Perhaps we should talk somewhere more private
PENELOPE
Because I embarrass you. Of course you would never court me. I am the laughing stock of the Ton even when I change my entire wardrobe. It just never occurred to me that you of all people could be so cruel.
A beat of silence lingered between them as the gravity of the scene hit them with force. Luke swallowed heavily, letting his eyes peer up from the page to meet Nicola’s.
“Oh my god, it’s perfect,” she said, eyes wide and shining. Luke smiled warmly, suddenly hit with a newfound confidence. They hadn’t put a lot into their little read-through, but the familiar chemistry they shared in front of a camera came flooding back in boat loads, despite the foreign tone of their dialogue. The gleam in her eye told him that she felt it too. There was a palpable feeling that together, they were about to make magic.
“Wow,” was all he could offer, and Nicola began to laugh.
“You say that a lot, you know that?” she chuckled.
“I’m a bit lost for words, if I’m honest,” he said with an uneasy laugh. “Pen’s ripped me a new one there, hasn’t she?”
“Colin,” she corrected him. “He’s the arsehole. You’re lovely.” The compliment rang in his ears, pulling his lips into a bashful smile.
As the pages went on, he saw Nicola’s eyes well with tears as delivered Colin’s apology. It was exactly what it needed to be. No excuses, no caveats, just an earnest plea to the light of his life. Luke knew his character inside out by now, and he couldn’t have written it better himself. They ran giddily through Colin and Penelope’s lessons, beaming at the romantic undertone. He remembered how Nicola had told him she’d practically begged Jess for some rom-com themes, and Nicola relished the chance to bring her wishes to life for the first time. Her excitement was utterly infectious, and he found his own heart swelling on her behalf. They had made it to the final few pages of episode two, both knowing what was to come. The moment that would change everything.
For their characters, of course.
“Why am I nervous?” Nicola giggled, covering her face with the script. He considered playing it cool, telling her to relax, but the sheer hypocrisy wouldn’t allow him. He couldn’t ignore the quickening pace of his heartbeat, or the cold sweat suddenly covering his palms. It was silly, really. It was just a casual read through. He was weeks away from the actual test of kissing Nicola’s lips, no matter the terrifying temptation creeping over him.
“Ready?” he asked, to himself as much as to her. She exhaled through her curved lips and nodded.
PENELOPE
Colin, could I ask you something?
COLIN
Of course
PENELOPE hesitates, but with little to lose, she throws caution to the wind and whispers desperately.
PENELOPE
Would you kiss me?
COLIN
Penelope…
“ Oh my god , Luke,” she squealed, returning immediately to her soft Irish lilt as her eyes sped ahead. “It’s exactly like the book. It’s literally- god, sorry, I- okay…”
PENELOPE
It would not have to mean anything, and I would never expect anything of you because of it, but I am nearly on the shelf and I have never been kissed. And I am not certain I ever will be. I could die tomorrow…
COLIN interrupts, attempting an awkward laugh.
COLIN
You are not going to die tomorrow
PENELOPE
…And it would kill me
COLIN
But you would already be dead!
PENELOPE
I do not wish to die without ever having being kissed
COLIN is lost for words. He scrambles to find a counter argument, but he cannot find one. It is a terrible, dangerous idea, but the words don’t form to convey that. PENELOPE deals the final shattering blow.
PENELOPE
Please, Colin
He didn’t know when it happened, but Luke found his cheeks wet with tears. When he dared to meet Nicola’s eyes, he saw them overflow with tears of her own. Nicola pushed out her lower lip into a pout, and they both began to laugh uncontrollably. They really were too alike.
“Look at the state of us,” she chuckled, setting down her script and leaning into him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He was certain he’d never felt safer. It hadn’t even crossed his mind to feel embarrassed for crying; he knew she understood. She was as committed to their characters and their story as she was. She understood the inevitability of being pulled under by the current of an emotional scene. He clung tight to her, burying his head into the warmth of her neck.
“Two eps in, and I’m already a mess,” he laughed, reluctantly withdrawing from her, but Nicola’s hand followed his as he straightened up, maintaining a comforting contact. “Fuck , that was so good.”
“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” she said, puffing her cheeks out. “It feels real now, doesn’t it?”
“Very real.” Too real, in fact. Perhaps she saw the fear creep back into his expression, prompting her to lean into him, resting her head on his shoulder in solidarity. He found himself quietly wishing she’d stay that way forever, easing his mind with her intoxicating proximity.
“But I think I’m ready for it now,” she told him. “I know you and I are on the same page, and I trust you, and I hope that you trust me…”
“I trust you,” he chimed in, causing a quiet laugh to escape her.
“Then we trust each other. We’re going to smash it, Luke. I know we are.”
He made the choice to believe her. With Nicola at his side to guide him, he knew he couldn’t drift too far from greatness. He was prepared to give every bone in his body not to let her down. They had come a long way in the space of a few weeks, forging a bond that would carry them through the gruelling months ahead. For as long as he could keep his gnawing feelings at bay, no matter the cost, he could hold onto her trust, and they’d be okay.
A moment of quiet fell between them, but was quickly interrupted by a demanding growl of Luke’s stomach. Nicola began to giggle against his shoulder, craning her head up to look at him.
“Smooching on paper is hungry work, huh?” she teased.
“I’m starving,” he chuckled. “Shall we eat?”
Nicola’s face scrunched up into a grimace. “Please don’t ruin this day with an omelette.” Luke threw his head back in laughter, shoving Nicola playfully from his shoulder. He was proud of how quickly they bounced from the high emotions between Colin and Penelope to the effortless banter between themselves. It was good practice, he supposed, knowing too well of what was to come eventually.
“Pizza?”
“Pizza.”