Chapter Text
wordsunknown: hey, goodmorning :)
l.whistledown: hi 🩵
wordsunknown: so um. we've been talking for a while now
wordsunknown: almost a year in fact
l.whistledown: i know! time flies
wordsunknown: it does, in a good way 💛
wordsunknown: anyway
wordsunknown: i'm in london for the holidays
wordsunknown: & i was wondering…
l.whistledown: ?
wordsunknown: sorry, just a bit nervous
wordsunknown: my family is throwing a party on the 23rd (masquerade themed!)
wordsunknown: it's an annual thing really
wordsunknown: and i was wondering if i invited u…..
l.whistledown: ??
wordsunknown: if i invited u, would u come?
l.whistledown: you mean… you want to meet in person?
wordsunknown: well…… yea
wordsunknown: i'd like to meet u in person yea
wordsunknown: only if u want to ofc
wordsunknown: i just figured we'd gotten to know each other so well this past year…….
wordsunknown: hello?
wordsunknown: lw?
wordsunknown: u don't have to say yes
wordsunknown: it was just a suggestion!! pls don't leave me here i swear i'm ok w u saying no
wordsunknown: ……..
wordsunknown: lw?
l.whistledown: sorry! sorry!
wordsunknown: oh my god 😭😭
l.whistledown: sorry i didn't mean to scare you i swear 🥺
l.whistledown: i just
l.whistledown: can i think about it?
wordsunknown: ofc!!
wordsunknown: no pressure
l.whistledown: it's just. you know. stranger danger and all
wordsunknown: no ofc i totally get it!!!
wordsunknown: just lmk if u change ur mind yea?
wordsunknown: it'll be fun i swear
wordsunknown: it's a masquerade costume party
wordsunknown: my mum & SIL go all-out w the planning
wordsunknown: i'm gonna be in this hot pirate costume my bff picked out 🏴☠️
wordsunknown: & lots of booze if we get awk
l.whistledown: hot pirate costume?
l.whistledown: is that supposed to tempt me to go?👀
wordsunknown: i mean
wordsunknown: if ur into pirates i'm hoping to sweeten the deal
l.whistledown: that depends
l.whistledown: are we talking Will Turner or Jack Sparrow?
l.whistledown: 👀
wordsunknown: that also depends
wordsunknown: which one do u prefer?
wordsunknown: 👀
l.whistledown: now this doesn't sound coercive at all…
wordsunknown: i'm not trying to i promise
wordsunknown: i just
wordsunknown: feel like we’ve gotten to know each other rly well these past few months
wordsunknown: but i'd like to know u better yknow?
wordsunknown: in person
wordsunknown: i’d like to get to know u in person
wordsunknown: only if ur ready for that ofc
l.whistledown: if i'm being honest
l.whistledown: i'd like to get to know you better too
l.whistledown: but i'm not sure you'll feel the same way once we meet in-person
wordsunknown: why wouldn’t i feel the same way in person??
wordsunknown: if anything i think i’d like u even more
l.whistledown: that’s a very confident assumption
l.whistledown: and some high expectations of me
wordsunknown: i don’t mean to make u feel like i have expectations
wordsunknown: but i /am/ confident i’ll like u
wordsunknown: bc i already know u
wordsunknown: in most of the ways that count
wordsunknown: so i know
wordsunknown: i'll like u no matter what
wordsunknown: bc i already do
This was a terrible idea.
She'd known it was a terrible idea when she'd messaged wordsunknown last night confirming her attendance. She'd known it was a terrible idea when she laid out her costume that afternoon. And she knew it was a terrible idea as soon as she stepped through the threshold of Bridgerton House.
But apparently, she was a glutton for punishment. Because here she was, at the Bridgerton annual Christmas party, attending not as Penelope Featherington, close family friend of the Bridgertons, but as Tumblr user l.whistledown, anonymous online friend to Tumblr user wordsunknown.
Their friendship began like so many online friendships do: they hung out in the same tags, followed each other and reblogged each other's posts. Eventually they started replying to each other in their reblogs, mostly on posts about writing and yearning. Then they began messaging. Until eventually, they were talking almost every day.
They talked about everything—their joys and frustrations, the minutia of their daily routines, about their friends and family—they didn’t share names and altered some details for anonymity, but they shared enough about their thoughts and emotions that those edits hardly mattered. They were kindred spirits, l.whistledown and wordsunknown. Two souls that seemed to know each other intrinsically, immediately. Almost like they were destined to get along.
Because they already knew each other. And they already got along.
wordsunknown: excited to see u tonight! like i said before, i'll be the tall guy in the pirate costume
l.whistledown: i'll be a pirate too. in a giant hat so you'll know it's me
wordsunknown: aye-aye captain!! 🪝
"Pen! Pen, is that you?"
Penelope feels herself completely stiffen at the sound of Eloise's voice. She spots the brunette in her chic bob and Joan of Arc costume bound toward her.
Before she can even think to deny or hide, Eloise has slung her arm across her shoulders. It's so sudden she has to steady the ludicrously large pirate hat she's balancing on her head.
"It is you," Eloise exclaims, leaning in close and holding a lock of blonde hair between her fingers. "I almost didn't recognize you with the wig."
Penelope tries to laugh good-naturedly at her best friend, but she can feel her smile fall short. "I thought it tied the whole look together."
"Well, you look hot no matter what hair color," Eloise declares, in a sweet, sentimental tone. She was clearly already a few drinks in.
"You look hot too, El," Penelope says sincerely with a grin. "Although… isn't this the same costume you wore two years ago?"
"If anybody asks, I'm helping the lovebirds recreate the moment."
"And it's not at all because you were too lazy to pick out a different costume?" Penelope teases.
"Not at all," Eloise smirks.
The annual Bridgerton Christmas Party was legendary for its scale, extravagance, and unpredictability. Violet, the Bridgerton matriarch and hostess, liked to change up the theme every year to keep attendees on their toes. But this year, Benedict had requested his mother to repeat the theme from two years ago—a masquerade costume ball. He wanted to celebrate the anniversary of his relationship with his girlfriend (and hopefully, by the end of the night, fiancee—though Penelope wasn't supposed to know that), Sophie, who he'd first met at the previous masquerade.
Penelope remembers the awkward elf costume she'd had to scrounge together that year last-minute and shakes the memory away. Not one of her finer looks, but it didn't matter when Colin had changed his costume mid-party to a leprechaun in solidarity.
"Anyway, I'm so relieved you're here! I thought you said you had a work emergency?"
"Emergency over," Penelope shrugs. It was a lie. She’d made the excuse so that nobody would expect her to attend, at least not as herself.
Another Bridgerton floats up to them in a black-and-white sequin gown and a mask with painted music notes. Francesca leans into her sister and gives Penelope a delighted wave, looking like the keys of an abstract piano. "Hi Pen!"
Penelope grins back. "You look amazing, Fran."
Francesca scrunches her nose and flushes at the compliment—but also likely due to the drink in her hand. "Does Colin know you're here?"
"No," Penelope answers. "I haven't had the chance to tell him that my schedule cleared up."
"Oh," Francesca tilts her head to the side in confusion. "I thought he was looking for you. He's been stalking the edge of the ballroom all night like he was waiting for someone to arrive."
Before Penelope can wrack her brain for an explanation, Eloise scrunches her eyebrows in confusion. “Why would Colin be waiting for Pen to arrive?”
Penelope gulps.
"Where is Colin?" Eloise continues. "This is the first time all evening I haven't caught him lurking like a creep in my periphery."
"Ben pulled him away to the garden," Francesca explains. "He needed help setting up."
There's a twinkle in Francesca's eye as she brings her drink up to her lips. Benedict has tried to be subtle, has only told Colin about his plan because he needed help, but his anxious energy all week was obvious to the whole family. It was only a matter of time—likely by midnight, when everyone is scheduled to unmask—before Benedict and Sophie emerged back into the ballroom engaged.
wordsunknown: hey lmk when u arrive
wordsunknown: i got pulled away from the main room to help w smth but i'll come to u as soon as u msg
Penelope feels dread and relief swirl together in her stomach. At least Benedict had pulled him away from his patrol of the dance floor in time for her arrival. She isn’t ready to face him. Coming out of the shadows to Colin requires ample preparation, and at least a few drinks.
Eventually, she manages to pull herself away from Eloise's watchful eye under the guise of following a drink tray to the bar. She calls over her shoulder that she wants to greet the hostess for good measure. It’s a lie—she can’t actually risk Violet recognizing her as well—there are already too many witnesses, and the last thing she wants is for Colin to hear about her arrival from someone else.
Needing a drink, however, is not a lie. She weaves through the crush of party-goers, all dressed to the nines in elaborate costumes and bejewelled masks. The back hallway has been sectioned off to keep guests from the more private rooms, but unlike most guests, Penelope has the privilege of moving through Bridgerton House like she lives there.
She ignores the velvet rope and makes her way into the kitchen to greet the staff. Mrs. Wilson gives her a warm smile, but doesn't linger as she supervises the comings and goings of the hired cater waitstaff with military precision. Dunwoody offers her a glass of bourbon from the family's private cellar like he always does at these parties. Penelope gratefully accepts and leaves quickly once the drink is secure in her hands.
Instead of heading back to the dance floor to rejoin Eloise and Francesca, Penelope heads up to the landing of the giant staircase that overlooks the ballroom. She holds her breath and downs half the glass in one gulp. She doesn't normally prefer dark liquor, but special circumstances call for the big guns, and her frayed nerves leave her impatient for the alcohol to take effect.
It's a mostly older crowd upstairs, men and women her parents' age mingling in a more relaxed setting, where the music is a little more muted. There's a slim chance she'll run into anyone her age here; and god knows Penelope needs a moment alone to collect herself.
She should go home. Or she should message wordsunkown and tell him something came up and she can’t come. Then she can find Colin and attend the party as Penelope—spend the evening cheering him up after he'd been blown off by his mysterious chat mate. Maybe l.whistledown should just ghost him—change her username and just block him altogether without an explanation.
Her breath comes out in a shudder. She takes another sip to steady herself.
Penelope had never meant for things to go this far. She hadn't known she was talking to Colin in the beginning. At the time, she hadn't wanted to talk to Colin at all.
She had cut him off that summer, after she overheard him declare to his pompous old uni friends at a party that they were bloody mental to assume that they were dating. Which. Nevermind how she feels about dating Colin, or how Colin feels about dating her. But she had been so deeply humiliated that she was sure she would never speak to Colin again.
She made good on that promise for four months. Four months of dropping Colin's calls, muting his messages—before blocking him altogether and avoiding all social functions on the rare occasion he was in London. Four months of wallowing at home alone and reblogging every sad post on her Dashboard, feeding off the mutual sadness of one specific blog, wordsunknown.
She had followed wordsunknown back after he'd replied to a few of her posts about writing. He seemed remarkably sensitive and insightful, and it reflected in both his photography and poetry. Penelope drank his poetry like it was nectar from the gods. His poetry carried her through her lowest moments of missing Colin—on nights she ached for his smile, on nights she knew he was drinking with his siblings and sending her email after drunk email (the only space she hadn’t blocked him), begging for her to write back.
His photography was much the same. wordsunknown had a talent for capturing landscapes across the world that had you searching for something that wasn't there. He had a way of capturing the loneliness of crowds and the emptiness of even the most beautiful landscapes.
She figured out it was Colin two months into DMing him, just as they were beginning to get close. It was exactly six months from the day she’d cut him off in-person.
wordsunknown: ur newest piece is incredible
wordsunknown: really stabbed me in the gut
wordsunknown: the way u write about the ache of wanting to be seen
wordsunknown: the desire to be someone’s center rather than always in the periphery
l.whistledown: thank you 💕 it was actually inspired by your recent photos
wordsunknown: oh??
l.whistledown: yeah, the ones from Morocco
wordsunknown: i’m honoured 💛
l.whistledown: can i ask you something?
wordsunknown: anything
l.whistledown: it’s a little personal…
wordsunknown: i don’t mind
wordsunknown: we’re friends
wordsunknown: at least i hope we are????
wordsunknown: oh god wait
l.whistledown: lmao relax
l.whistledown: yes i consider us friends 😂
wordsunknown: oh thank god 😭😭
wordsunkown: i’m glad you consider us friends
wordsunknown: god knows i’m running short on them rn
l.whistledown: ?
wordsunknown: …
l.whistledown: i’m sorry
l.whistledown: u don’t have to answer
wordsunknown: no it’s ok
wordsunknown: what was ur question??
l.whistledown: well
l.whistledown: i was wondering what it is abt the theme of yearning and loneliness that draws you in so much
l.whistledown: or if you mean for your work to elicit something different and i’m just projecting
wordsunknown: wow
l.whistledown: sksksksksks
l.whistledown: i’m sorry like i said it’s kinda a personal question
l.whistledown: and i know you consider us friends but that doesn’t mean you have to answer this
l.whistledown: i just really connect with your stuff and was hoping to pick your brain about it
l.whistledown: because idk if you noticed but i find myself drawn to those themes a lot too
wordsunknown: no no it’s ok!!
wordsunknown: i’m just
wordsunkown: i haven’t been asked abt my stuff in a while
wordsunknown: & tbh i’m flattered
wordsunknown: bc ur writing is so good
l.whistledown: 😳🫣
wordsunknown: haha pls u know ur a brilliant writer
wordsunknown: i would know bc i’m always drawn to brilliant writers
l.whistledown: ?? like who??
wordsunknown: oh
wordsunknown: just people i know in my personal life
wordsunknown: anyway
wordsunknown: i didn’t rly think my stuff resonated w anyone but me
wordsunknown: ik it sounds cheesy but i mostly post for myself
wordsunknown: so it’s rly just abt me being alone w my thoughts
l.whistledown: i get that so much i do the same
l.whistledown: like i also write for a living but the stuff i post here is just for me
wordsunkown: & for me
wordsunknown: i connect w ur stuff a lot too 💛💛💛
l.whistledown: 🩵
wordsunknown: anyway that’s the simple answer of why i lean on loneliness as a theme a lot
wordsunknown: fun fact: i’m 1 of 8 siblings
l.whistledown: 8????
wordsunknown: yea lmao
wordsunknown: when ur 3rd of 8 u tend to get lost in the shuffle
wordsunknown: wc isn’t anyone’s fault
wordsunknown: my mum tries her best to equally give us the care we need
wordsunknown: & my dad passed when i was 12
l.whistledown: oh
wordsunknown: yea
l.whistledown: i’m so sorry 🥺
wordsunknown: dw abt it
wordsunknown: anyway logistically there just wasn’t enough attention to go around
wordsunknown: so i’m used to just
wordsunknown: getting lost
wordsunknown: & i find i’m drawn to places & scenes that u can get lost in
wordsunknown: does that make sense?
l.whistledown: yeah
l.whistledown: absolutely
wordsunknown: anyway
wordsunknown: this is abt to get a bit tmi but
wordsunknown: i have this bff
wordsunknown: or i guess /had/ this bff
wordsunknown: ur writing reminds me a bit of hers actually
wordsunknown: she’s a brilliant writer too
wordsunknown: she used to be the person who would like
wordsunknown: offset the loneliness
wordsunknown: or used to like
wordsunknown: find me
wordsunknown: when i got lost in the shuffle
wordsunknown: but recently
wordsunknown: she cut me off
wordsunknown: & that’s rly where i’ve drawn most of my inspiration lately
wordsunknown: wc is probably why my photos & writing are inspiring even /more/ melancholy haha
l.whistledown: oh
wordsunknown: yeah
l.whistledown: do you know why she cut you off?
l.whistledown: sorry i don’t mean to pry
wordsunknown: no it’s ok!!
wordsunknown: the answer is no
wordsunknown: idk why she cut me off
l.whistledown: have you asked her?
wordsunknown: i can’t
wordsunknown: she has me blocked everywhere sksfjhd
wordsunknown: & none of our mutual friends seem to know either
wordsunknown: i think that’s where ur sensing the yearning from
wordsunknown: i’ve been…….. unmoored w/o her ig
wordsunknown: i miss her a lot
wordsunknown: & i sound crazy when i say this but tbch it’s all i’ve been thinking abt lately
wordsunknown: where did i go wrong
wordsunknown: how do i fix it
wordsunknown: all i want is to fix things w her
wordsunknown: but idk how to do that
wordsunknown: …….i’m sorry that was too much of an info dump
wordsunknown: i don’t mean to assume we’re that close it’s just that
wordsunknown: i haven’t rly been able to talk to anyone abt this person
wordsunknown: i don’t rly have many friends outside our mutual circle
wordsunknown: but i’m not kidding when i say it’s consumed me like
wordsunknown: 24/7
l.whistledown: …
wordsunknown: i’m sorry that was a lot 😩😩
l.whistledown: no no no don’t be sorry
l.whistledown: i’m just
l.whistledown: surprised is all
wordsunknown: surprised by how quickly i’m willing to overshare? 🥲
l.whistledown: lmao yeah
l.whistledown: let’s go with that
l.whistledown: ur also v intense
wordsunknown: ……yea i get that a lot 😭
l.whistledown: it’s not a bad thing!!
l.whistledown: i think the ability to feel so deeply is a good thing
l.whistledown: more people need to learn to care as much as you do tbh
l.whistledown: even if it’s just for family and estranged friends
l.whistledown: that kind of care makes the world a better place ✨️
wordsunknown: thank u 🥺🥺🥺
wordsunknown: u have no idea hm i appreciate that
wordsunknown: 💗
l.whistledown: of course 💗 you deserve to hear that
l.whistledown: and thank you for sharing all that with me
wordsunknown: thank u for listening 💛
l.whistledown: it was an honour 🩵
She unblocked Colin a week later.
It should have stopped there. She clocked it was him as soon as he mentioned being the third child of eight siblings. But Penelope couldn’t help herself. l.whistledown became his solace, his shoulder to cry on when his best friend Penelope had abandoned him, and it became her window into seeing Colin with fresh eyes. Listening to the way he spoke about her to a stranger became addictive. It confused her to no end, but she drank up the praise all the same.
Surely it wasn’t such a bad thing, she’d told her herself. Especially since talking to him as l.whistledown was what helped her forgive him. Surely it wasn’t such a bad thing, because how else would they have reconciled if not for l.whistledown and wordsunknown?
Penelope takes another swig of the dark bourbon as she surveys the dance floor. She takes a deep breath.
l.whistledown: i’m here
She puts her phone away and downs the rest of her drink.
Their messages had taken a decidedly more flirtatious direction in the past few weeks. She hadn’t even known she was capable of flirting with Colin, not after spending most of her life tripping over herself pining after him. She can’t remember who had initiated the change, only that one day it hit her—thumb hovering over the kiss face emoji on her keyboard—that she was flirting with Colin and that Colin was flirting back.
She definitely, definitely should have ended things then.
Soon enough, she spots a man bounding into the party looking breathless. Navy blue ruffly shirt. Black mask. Gold Celtic detailing on his vest. Hair covered and a sword on his hip. He shouldn’t stand out from the crowd of costumed guests, of men in similarly dark ensembles. She spots at least two other pirates on the dance floor, even. But she knows it’s him—had chosen the costume for him herself, after he took her out to lunch as a bribe.
But even if she didn’t know his costume, she knows it’s him. She can spot him in any crowd. She senses him as easily as if she were searching for her own limbs.
Colin’s head swivels frantically around him, scanning the ballroom twice over to find a female pirate. He spots one, a tall, lithe woman by the refreshments in puffy sleeves and a black peasant skirt, with a hat much smaller than her own. From above, Penelope watches as he taps the woman on the shoulder and asks her a question. He puts on his most charming smile, one she’s seen him use to flirt with crushes in their younger years. The woman tilts her head and smiles back. She scans Colin up and down and says something clearly flirtatious, and suddenly the smile on his face falls.
He abandons the woman without another word and begins circling the dance floor again.
Another pirate—this time a woman dressed with giant hoops and a black ruffled shirt opened low on her chest. She looks like a model with her flowing dark hair. Colin approaches her tentatively. Smiles. Says a few words before his face inevitably falls and he walks away again.
Penelope feels her grip tighten on the railing. She hears her breathing stagger. The room gets blurry. She can do this, she tells herself. She needs to do this. She can’t keep lying to Colin.
Go down there, her brain yells. Show him who you really are.
She thinks back to that warm summer day a year ago, the day that started it all. She can feel the breeze on her face, hear the full-body laughter Colin had shared with his friends. She can see the way his expression had darkened when Reggie Fife asked if he was hitting that chubby little friend of his.
She hears the words, clear as day, from Colin’s lips.
“Me? With Penelope? You sound bloody mental, Fife.”
Penelope sucks in a breath, tries to steel herself by gripping tighter on the balcony. Her phone dings.
El Bridgerton: where are u???
El Bridgerton: soph said yes!!!!! come out to the garden we’re gonna celebrate!!!
She watches as Colin circles the ballroom once, twice, before his third attempt is halted by Anthony and Kate, who seem to be speaking to him with concern. Anthony puts an arm around Colin and tries to steer him away from the dance floor, to which Colin shrugs him off and walks away. She watches as Kate places an arm around a confused Anthony’s shoulder, preventing him from following his brother.
Penelope’s phone dings again.
wordsunknown: i’m in the ballroom, where are u?
wordsunknown: are u still wearing ur hat??
Three things happen at once.
First, the clock behind chimes midnight. The sound reverberates through the ballroom, intentionally amplified, and the crowd of guests below begin to cheer. People begin to take off their masks.
Second, Violet Bridgerton enters the hall from the garden, beaming with excitement. She makes her way up the stage and signals the DJ to halt the music. She turns to her guests, who are all unmasking, and takes off her own, before making an announcement.
Third, Colin looks up.
His head frantically swivels back and forth in the middle of the dance floor, before seemingly remembering for the first time that the party spills over to the second floor. He snaps his head up. Penelope braces herself against the railing.
“I’ll like you no matter what,” he’d said. “I already do.”
As if on instinct, as if he were as tethered to her presence as she always is to his, Colin looks up and finds her.
For a split second, his dark blue eyes meet her own.
And she runs.