Chapter Text
Colin rubbed his hands together with a satisfied smile as his breakfast was laid to the table in front of him. He thanked the waiter and swiftly picked up knife and fork to dive into his warm pancakes.
He frowned when a hand moved the plate from him.
«Aren’t you forgetting something?».
His best friend could be so vexing when she wanted, which was most of the time.
«Sure!», he smiled to her face as he grabbed a small glass bottle from the table and started pouring generous amounts of maple syrup on top of his pancake stack. «Thank you, Micky, I almost forgot».
«Very funny, Bridgerton», Michaela rolled her eyes at the dreaded nickname and waved his smartphone in his face. «We agreed on posting this morning’s breakfast on your instagram stories with your location, remember?»
Colin sighed and put on his photo-for-work face: handsome, flirty, somewhat distant. It was a hit every time.
Michaela took the picture with quick and experienced hands and began working on the screen. Colin tapped the handle of his knife on the wooden table, impatient.
«Can I eat now? The butter is melting», he all but whined.
«You’re honestly worse than a child», Michaela retorted without lifting her face from the phone, but waved her consent nonetheless. Colin finally shoved a forkful in his mouth, content.
He was almost finished when Michaela began to nibble on her croissant.
«You do know that the content on your socials is what pays your bills and also mine when you’re in between books, right?», she asked rhetorically, sipping her iced coffee through the paper straw. «If we don’t follow our posting schedule…»
«Please, it is way too early to hear the word “algorithm”, Mich», Colin cut her off, pleading. «This is only my second espresso of the day».
She raised her hands to admit defeat.
Colin knew she meant well, though. «That’s why I have with me the best social media manager and, may I add, content creator around», he pointed to all of her, flashing his most dashing smile.
«Save the flattery for someone who is actually into spoiled rich men, Bridgerton».
As per usual, Michaela’s words were harsh, but her tone betrayed her fondness.
Colin’s smile just widened wickedly. «Why, do you have any new friends I should meet?».
«Please, babe», she said, knowingly. «Your demi ass couldn’t handle a fling with one of my girls».
«Touché», he admitted with a shrug.
«Speaking of fire spirited girls…», Michaela raised her brows as she looked next to her plate, where Colin’s discarded phone had begun to vibrate. «Why is Penelope Featherington yellow heart emoji, sunflower emoji, bubble tea emoji calling you?».
He had reached for his phone well before Michaela had finished listing all the emojis he had saved Pen’s number with. His smile was surprised but pleased.
«Hello?», he answered the call, raising a finger to stop Michaela in her tracks. She glared at him but snapped her mouth shut, opting to try and eavesdrop instead.
«Yeah, I’m out with Michaela for… oh. Did something happen? No, sure. It’s just we have to go over this week’s schedule of contents before I can head back to the hotel, so I can call you back in one…».
Michaela shot him an admonishing look. He quickly backtracked. «…Three to four hours, maybe? Perfect, then. Bye, Pen».
Colin hung up and looked at his friend across from him.
«No questions?», he asked. «I know you were trying to eavesdrop».
«Oh, am I allowed to speak now?», she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. «I’m letting this go just because I want the tea».
«Fair enough, I’m sorry, Mich», he apologized, sincerely. «Penelope had hoped to catch me alone. She has something important to talk to me about, apparently, and she wanted some privacy».
«Uuuh, well. She should be aware that as my best friend you are not allowed to keep secrets from me», Michaela stated, matter of factly.
Colin laughed, slightly nervous. «I wouldn’t use that particular title in front of her, you know. She has dibs on it, on account of her being my first true best friend and all».
Michaela looked somewhat surprised at that, or maybe it was Colin’s timid expression. «You two go that way back, uh?».
Colin nodded. «I was twelve when we met, she was my sister Eloise’s friend in primary school».
«Okay, I knew you’d known each other since forever, but I didn’t realize you were actual fetuses!», Michaela commented, impressed. «And you’ve been besties since?».
«Well, not exactly», Colin explained. «We have always liked each other, but El’s really the possessive type and plus we both were at that age everyone seems so appalled at the mere thought of having a close friend of the opposite sex».
Michaela whispered something that sounded a lot like “gender roles bullshit”, but gestured for him to go on.
«Things started to change when we both were teenagers and her parents allowed her to spend summer breaks with my family in the countryside», Colin smiled reminiscing of little Pen, getting sunburned by the pool. «She has always been shy but every year she came out of her shell more and more, until we realized we had lots in common and started to confide in each other».
«We’re talking more than a decade of unperturbed, untroubled best friendship , then?», Michaela was actually impressed: usually friendships as long as this between a good looking heterosexual man and a good looking heterosexual girl got tainted by unrequited crushes or one sided attraction.
«Well…», Colin scratched the back of his head, shifting in his chair.
Michaela smiled triumphantly. «Gotcha!».
«If you must know, there was a… pause in the friendship», he admitted sheepishly.
«I knew it! So, who wanted to shag who?».
«Both of us catched feelings that transcended platonic friendship», Colin corrected her, not without a glint of amusement in his voice at Michaela’s crass intuition. «So I took action and kissed her at her nineteenth birthday’s party. It only lasted five months, however».
Had the circumstances been different, Michaela would have teased Colin telling him how that with Penelope had still been his longest romantic relationship to date, but she saw the bittersweet sadness written all over her friend’s face and how his gaze was distant, lost in memories. She gently nudged his foot with her own under the table and smiled encouragingly.
«You know me», he lifted his shoulders, embittered by his own nature. «I grew restless and she noticed. She was very graceful, telling me how breaking up was for our mutual benefit, with her set to begin university and me wanting to travel for a living and not just for fun».
Michaela watched in horror as Colin slowly shook his head and his eyes got wet with mournful tears.
«She gave me this look and I couldn’t help but say “The thing that makes me want to cry is I’m losing the best friend I’ve ever had”. She kissed me and told me that wasn’t going to change», Colin seemed to get out of the trance and he couldn’t help but smile, seeing his friend’s concerned stare. «And here we are! More than a decade later, and it’s still true. We’ve seen each other through everything. Losing jobs, losing parents, losing lovers. I’ve traveled all over and sometimes she has accompanied me, too. Best times of my life, maybe. Drinking and talking, even if it’s just over the phone».
«That’s some unbeatable shit, mate», Michaela low whistled. «Like, if we were to compete in a ring to get the “Ultimate Colin Bridgerton’s Bestie” title, she would floor me».
Colin laughed at that. «Aw, Mich! You would get yourself stepped on by a beautiful woman to be my one and only best friend?».
She shrugged. «What can I say, it’s a risk I might be willing to take».
After that, they got their laptops out and got to work, figuring out which pictures from his last trip to post on Instagram, trying to determine which TikTok trending music was the less cringe to post the videos over, selecting fitting abstracts from his last book to caption the content with.
It was a couple of hours later, while he was munching on his brunch and drinking his fourth coffee, that an idea crossed Colin’s mind.
«She actually turned thirty just the other month». He hadn’t even meant to voice that thought aloud.
«Who did?», Michaela asked absentmindedly, typing on her keyboard.
«Penelope».
«Congratulations…?».
He shook his head and tried to explain. «There was this one night in Greece, like five years ago. She had come with me because I was there to finish writing my first travel guide and she knew I’d be nervous. It was well past midnight and we had two bottles of red between us, trying to edit what I had written in the past weeks. She got really close and extended her little finger to me and said “Swear. When I’m thirty, if we’ve never married, we marry each other”. I pinky promised to her, but actually we’ve never talked about it again».
Michaela’s jaw had dropped, her task of skimming through Canadian landscape photos all but forgotten. «And she just got thirty».
Colin chuckled nervously, his heart suddenly beating furiously in his chest. «She couldn’t possibly…».
«What did she say now, exactly?», Michaela pressed.
«That she had hoped to speak with me alone, because it was an “urgent matter” and she was “desperate” to talk».
He had started to sweat even though they were still inside the air conditioned bar.
«I’d say I might be wrong, but you know I rarely am».
Colin didn’t even have the strength to throw a balled up tissue at her.
Michaela seemed to take pity on him. «Come now, babe. Your family has a thing for long lasting marriages! Aren’t, like, seven out of your sixteen siblings in happily-ever-after monogamous relationships? With dozens of little snotty angels to answer for?».
Colin ignored her. «Now that you mention it… she has been acting a bit strange recently. Not answering as many phone calls and avoiding some texts».
«God forbid she has just grown tired of you, uh?».
But Colin was not listening to Michaela anymore. He stood up abruptly, chair scratching the floor annoyingly.
«Mich, I have to go», he proclaimed, stuffing his laptop and his notes messily in his leather satchel. «I have to know».
«Yep, no worries, you’re justified by the “about to get proposed to” clause», Michaela remarked with sarcasm, but Colin was already out the door. «Cheers!», she yelled after him, raising her glass of white wine in his general direction as he sprinted by the glass windows of the bar.
***
Colin paced the carpeted floor barefoot, clenching and unclenching his hands, restless.
Was Penelope really going to bring it up? She couldn’t, right? She had been drunk and hell, so had been Colin. Sure, he probably would have shaken that pinky with his own even if he had been dead sober. He had never been able to deny Pen anything, not when she fluttered the lashes on those gorgeous blue eyes.
“If we’ve never married, we marry each other” .
His mind went to the little black velvet box, collecting dust in the back of a drawer in his childhood bedroom… Colin splashed his face with cold water and looked at his own reflection. Water droplets dripped from his furrowed brow and his hair was wild.
He took a deep breath and tried to rationalise: he was overreacting, for sure. He was going to call Pen, listen to what she had to say and be the best friend he could be: cheer with her, cry with her or give her some advice if she seeked it. He had promised himself a long time ago he would be there for her and foremost and he was not going to let a stupid drunk memory get the best of him.
Colin wiped his face on the fluffy hotel towel and struggled for a bit to make his hair look presentable, like he had just come back to his room from a friendly work meeting with his friend and not like he had spent the last twenty minutes spiraling.
Satisfied with his efforts, Colin took his smartphone in hand and started the call.
One ring, two rings, three rings…
«Colin!».
Penelope always sounded so happy to hear him.
«Welcome to the Hot&Sexy Blue Eyed Brunet gigolò service, Miss Featherington», Colin said, using his sultriest tone. «This is Colin speaking».
She giggled and then let out an exasperated, good-natured scoff. «You do know I can see who is calling me, right, you ridiculous dork?».
«And yet, you laughed!».
«Only because I don’t want to hurt your gigantic clown ego, sweetie».
«A win is a win!».
«Shift to FaceTime?», she asked, mirth still in her voice. «Are you presentable?».
«Depends on who you ask», he joked, pressing the video call button.
Pen’s sweet smiling face greeted Colin from his screen.
«Hello, beautiful», he breathed, genuinely. If he preened at Pen’s light blush on her cheeks, he didn’t let her see.
«There you are!».
Pen had answered from the desktop computer at her desk. In the background, Colin was able to catch a glimpse of her kitchen slash dining room slash study. Pen’s apartment was small and colourful, always tidy even if filled with books and tiny ornaments and plants. It suited her and it was a rather fitting frame for Penelope’s round pale face. Her red hair was up in a messy bun and she had her reading glasses on.
«Here I am», he grinned, suddenly feeling way more relaxed now that he was actually talking to her. He fell against the too soft mattress with a huff.
«And where exactly is “here”, Mr. Bridgerton?».
Colin loved when Pen referred to him using his last name. It was different than when Mich used it or when a stranger did. Between himself and his siblings and niblings alone, his last name wasn’t exactly rare, but Penelope had a way of saying it… like he was the single most important Bridgerton on planet Earth.
«Vancouver», he revealed. «But I’m wounded, Pen, you would already know it if you would only watch my stories».
«You know I even have my notifications on for you!», she reminded him patiently. «I’ve just been busy with work myself, today. I was going to catch up with my socials once I was in bed».
«Ah, yes, your bed…», Colin smirked. «Your favourite place to think about me».
«A worse woman than me would say that it’s true, but only because your stuff is so boring it’s more effective than a sleeping pill».
«Touché».
«But I would never say that because I am the best friend and woman ever».
«And humble, too. You truly are the whole package».
They stared dumbly at one another for a moment, smiling the secret smiles they reserved just for each other. Colin couldn’t believe a handful of minutes ago he had been so nervous to talk to her: this was Pen! Nothing could go wrong if Pen was involved.
Colin shook his head and rubbed a hand down his face.
«What?», she asked in gentle mockery.
He could see her adorable bunny-like white smile in his mind, even if his hand still covered his eyes.
«It’s stupid…», he began.
«Well, of course it is, you’re thinking about it».
His eyes stayed closed.
«Come on, what is it?», she asked again, softer now.
«Alright, but try not to laugh at me».
Pen remained silent and, when Colin peeked between his fingers, he found her waiting.
«This may sound so random, but I was thinking about that spring when you surprised me in Greece while I was finishing writing my travel guide. And there was this honestly insane night… Gosh, we were so sloshed and you probably won’t even remember this, but…».
Penelope’s eyes widened. «I’m so sorry, Colin», she hurried to stop him. «I have to tell you something and then get back to work. I just received an email moving up a deadline, so, you know».
Colin had known Penelope for well over twenty years and he could confidently say he knew her. He knew how she took her coffee and her tea and on which occasion she preferred one or the other; he knew which brand of menstrual pads she was partial to; he knew her favourite ice cream flavour, her favourite flower, her favourite animated movie. Colin knew that when Pen moved into her apartment, she had arranged the books in alphabetical order as per author, but he also knew that now the volumes were sorted according to their general genre. Colin knew what made Penelope tick, what made her laugh, what made her cry.
Colin knew Penelope, and Penelope was a liar. She didn’t like lying, per se; or at least he didn’t think so, even if he was pretty sure she took a morbid pleasure knowing she could get away with it. Growing up, her situation at home hadn’t been ideal and she did not have that many friends in school either; so little Pen had quickly learned that if she wanted to live her life the way she preferred, she just couldn’t let herself be too sincere.
All this to say, after many years of quiet practice, Colin was able to tell when Penelope was lying. And right now she was.
«Right», he said, smiling tightly. «Tell me the news, Pen».
«I met someone», she blurted out. She looked tense, as if bracing herself for a bad reaction on Colin’s part.
«That’s great», Colin said, but he felt like his own voice didn’t belong to him. «That’s great!».
Maybe if he repeated it some more, he could even convince himself.
Penelope seemed to relax a little, a timid smile on her red face. «It is».
«You haven’t really seen anybody, have you? Not since Fatwit Pete», Colin joked.
Really, he didn’t know where he was taking the strength to joke from. He got up from the bed, feeling restless.
«He’s not like the others I’ve dated before», Penelope defended him, and Colin felt he already hated this faceless, nameless guy. «He’s nice and smart and actually considerate. And not too bad to look at, actually».
«You truly like him», Colin assessed, the realisation dawning on him.
«Colin, we’re getting married. This Sunday».
Colin literally dropped dead. At least, it felt like it.
«Are you alright?».
«Sure!», he laughed. The almost hysterical tinge to it was not lost on him.
«You’re on the floor», she stated.
«Penelope, it’s Wednesday night», he retorted, as if that was enough to justify his reaction. «How can you possibly be getting married this Sunday?».
«Actually, it’s one of those four-day wedding things», Pen tried to explain. «You know my mother. She has invited like ten million people and it all starts tomorrow».
Colin should never have agreed to a video call: his face was red and his eyes were swelling up and Penelope was going to see . «I can’t believe it», he murmured.
She seemed to resent him for that. «What, that somebody actually wants to spend the rest of their life with me?! Or maybe you can’t just begin to phantom the idea of someone wanting to take responsibility, take roots?!».
She had hit him where she knew he was tender and Colin felt a twinge of pain and betrayal in his chest.
«No! I can’t believe you’ve kept this secret from me! For how long? Months?!», he snapped back. «I wasn’t even aware of the fact you were dating someone, let alone that you were serious enough or… or sure of him enough that you were going to accept a bloody marriage proposal!».
Pen deflated. She stared at him in silence from the screen and tormented her bottom lip between her teeth, looking the perfect image of guilt.
«Colin…», her tone was kinder, now. «You’ve always known I was going to get married, eventually».
Colin hoped that his sniffing had been subtle enough. «I know that, I do», he sighed. «I just hoped I would have been involved somehow».
«You’re right», she admitted. «You’d think I was mature enough not to avoid adult conversation with my best friend right until the last possible moment. I was afraid you’d react poorly so I hid it all from you. I was a jerk».
«You were not a jerk…».
«No, I was. And I’m sorry».
It had taken Penelope years of therapy to dismantle her parents’ influence on her mind. Her father’s tendency to hide things, her mother’s inclination to lie. «It’s a classic case of nature versus nurture», she had once shared with him and Eloise, while sitting cross legged on her sofa. «Looking at the evidence, for all we know deception might very well be written in the Featherington DNA. I am the daughter of a compulsive gambler and a woman who was objectively incapable of finding a connection with one of her children without belittling one of the others». Penelope’s dad had been found dead in a casino in fishy circumstance when she had yet to turn sixteen; the loss of a parent, despite the very different predicaments of their fathers’ departures, had actually been one the very first things her and Colin had bonded over, however sad it may be. On the other hand, after years of persuasion, Portia Featherington had at last embraced therapy and had, according to all three of her daughters, become a better mother for it. According to Colin, though Portia was now indeed more understanding and listened more to others’ needs, Pen’s mama had now become one of those somewhat terrible people that misused therapy terms to flee from difficult conversations. «Maybe I won’t ever be perfect, but I will try to fix myself and be better than my parents. I’ll start by taking accountability and apologising for the shit I do, I guess», Penelope had carried on, shrugging in her oversized t-shirt. «At least, that’ll be more than either of them has ever done».
And Penelope was just doing that: she was holding herself accountable and she was saying sorry. Her blue eyes seemed to stare right into Colin’s soul, even if they were just pixels, and really, he was incapable of being angry at her.
«It’s okay, Pen», he tried to put on his most sincere smile. «Truly».
«Okay, since that was not embarrassing at all…», she tried to laugh it off. «Colin, I would really love it if you'd stand by me through all this. My mother is insufferable and breathing down my neck and my sisters are jealous! Jealous, of all things! All because Portia is giving me all her time and efforts and neglecting them and my nieces! I feel like all the attention is on me. Not just my mother’s, mind you. Apparently every single person on the planet wants something from me! Dress and catering and venue and live band and RSVPs… I can’t wait for it to be over!».
Penelope, who had started to pace around her flat while talking, landed on her bed with an oof, her phone falling somewhere on the mattress beside her.
«Pen…?».
Colin heard her grunt in response and he smiled almost against his own will. «As lovely as your ceiling is, could I maybe look at your face?».
Red hair and a forehead popped up in the frame. «I need my best friend».
It was a statement so simple and her voice was so small, and Colin knew the battle was lost.
He sighed. «I’ll be there in the late morning, tops».
ITrustOneManOnly @MeanLesbian
ITrustOneManOnly: penelope is getting married
ITrustOneManOnly: but not to me