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It's still early on a Thursday night, the after work crowd having ebbed, and the post-dinner crowd having not yet hit. The pub has a nice, relaxed energy about it, enough friendly chatter to create a buzz, a game of something playing on the TV mounted to the wall that no one is really paying attention to. The table holds three cold pints, sweating slightly, and Colin is drumming distracted from it all, frowning at his phone whilst he drums his fingers on the table.
He'd been a bit early to meet Philip and Michaela for their usual Thursday night drinks, and had opened his messages to check in with Pen and see how her night was so far. Usually, if she was free (and it was often, these days) he could talk her into joining them. As much as he loved spending time with Phil and Mich, Pen's presence just always made his night golden, as far as he was concerned, even if she usually brought Eloise and Fran along with her.
Tonight did not appear to be one of those nights, and Colin was admittedly pouting about it a bit. A lot if he were honest. Well, he has an uncomfortable, roiling sensation deep in his stomach that threatens to upset the curry he had for dinner, which he doesn't really understand because it's fine, perfectly fine Pen's too busy to join them. They've seen each other every night this week, and last week, and the week before, and well, they don't actually have to spend every single waking moment together, he guesses.
Though maybe it's her choice of activity that has him discomfited. She's been roped into some blind double date tomorrow night by her sister, and God, Colin tries to be nice, he does, but he really can't say much for the calibre of men Prudence Featherington normally attracts. Whoever the arsehole is, he is guaranteed to not be good enough for Pen, who deserves the absolute best. He certainly doesn't deserve her giving up an evening with her mates — and Colin — to be digging through her wardrobe, and stressing about outfit choices, and how she looks.
(She could wear sweats and trainers and Colin would put easy money on her still being the most knockout beauty of any establishment this lowlife is taking her too, and it makes him physically itch under his skin that she doesn't see that about herself.)
Colin checking in had lead to a flurry of photos of her in outfits and paragraph long messages about why each one wasn't working for her. They were all very witty and well written of course, but were all outright lies because even in her poor apartment lighting, and slightly blurry focus, she looked so stunning in each dress, Colin's mouth had gone completely dry. And when his brain had registered each successive outfit was showing considerably more skin than the last, the back of his neck had grown hot enough to fry an egg, and what sounded like alarms started shrieking in his ears, taking him a moment to realise he was the only one to hear the sound.
It's not like Colin wasn't aware his best friend, who was clever and sunshine bright and the kindest, funniest person he know, was also drop dead gorgeous and sexy. It's not like he's never even said it to her before, forcing the teasing into his tone so it didn't get weird, because he liked to see the flush in her cheeks and the little smile on her plush lips before she averted her eyes from him, shy. So he doesn't know why it's making him uncomfortable now.
Except usually its El or Fran she sends this stuff to. But they'd both been non-responsive, she said, when he'd messaged and he offered to help without knowing what that really meant. He'd seen her dressed up for events, and nights out, of course, but never for a date. With someone. Someone Colin didn't know who was more than likely gutter scum, who wouldn't appreciate her or be worth any of her time, or know just how well to treat her. That, he reasoned, was what was making him uncomfortable. Pen was his very best friend and favourite person, and he knew she deserved to be treated like a queen, and it upset him to know she wasn't going to be.
Their message chain has gone quiet now, her last message advising him she was now facetiming with his sisters, and Colin was staring down at the last photo she had sent of herself instead, ignoring the beers on the table before him. Pen is wearing a deep green number, that hugged her every curve and had a split up to her mid-thigh, revealing the creamy skin of her leg underneath. The neckline dipped just enough to give a tantalising hint of cleavage without being too showy, enough to want a peek, enough to know there was a feast for the eyes under the clingy fabric if you pulled it back.
Colin licked his lips subconsciously, his free hand still drumming the table, the hand holding his phone shaking slightly. His shifts in his seat, everything about him suddenly a bit too…. tight to sit comfortably. His stomach gives another sickening turn as he thinks about that absolute prick tomorrow night getting to see Pen in this dress, maybe even touch her in this dress, and Colin not even getting to see Pen tonight in person in anything, because she's too busy thinking about what she should wear for some undeserving wanker who shouldn't even be allowed to share air with her.
The sound of a chair being yanked out and a body dropping into it rips Colin's attention from his phone as as he hastily locks it, and drops it, like he's been caught doing something shameful. "Hey!" he greets, loudly, too loudly, as the itch and the churn of everything stills swirl uncomfortably under his skin, and he pushes a beer across to his companion. "I got you-" He cuts off as he looks at Philip across from him. "You alright, mate?"
Philip, who is usually so well put together, currently was in the most dishevelled state Colin had ever seen him in, well, ever. His hair stuck out at all angles, like he'd run his hands through it multiple times, and his shirt was untucked and mis-buttoned. He had a scarf wrapped around his neck, even though it had been a bit warm in the pub even before Colin had started receiving the texts from Pen.
And further to all that, his friend was a little pale, looking like he was about to be sick, eyes darting all over the place. Colin was worried letting him have a beer might be a mistake. "Yeah," Philip agreed, grasping his glass before Colin could snatch it back. "Yeah, yeah, I'm all good. How are you? Also good. Good. Good. Look, mate, I have to tell you something."
Colin is blinking in surprise at his friend's uncharacteristic babble of words, when without warning, Philip picks up his glass and downs the entire contents in one go. "Woah."
His friend puts the glass back down on the table with a harder thud than necessary, and grabs the beer meant for Michaela. "You know I value our friendship, and that I have you in my life," he says, as if he hadn't just downed an entire pint in thirty seconds and Colin takes a moment to focus, still stunned by the impressive and confusing display. "And I would never intentionally do anything to lose your friendship."
"Of course," Colin agrees, a little uneasy at where this could be going. "You don't need me to help you hide a body, do you?"
Philip lets out a louder than strictly necessary laugh, slightly startling two women the next table over. "No, nothing like that."
"Okay," Colin says slowly, trying to run through a list of possibilities. "But you know I feel the same, mate. Your friendship means the world to me."
"Exactly!" Philip slams his free hand on the table, Colin grabbing his own (untouched) pint glass in time to stop it spilling. "And that's the thing, Col! There's a code for these things, isn't there? Thing you don't do! Ways you don't betray your mate! The bro code!"
Colin has honestly never, in all their years of knowing one another, heard Philip speak like this, and frowns. "I guess?" He then laughs. "I don't know what this is leading up to mate, but honestly, the last bloke I heard go on like this, about bro codes and betrayal, and valuing friendship, well, it was Simon trying to tell Anthony he was seeing Daphne." He can't help but smile fondly, with a shake of his head. "That was a funny night. The vein in Anthony's head nearly burst all over the pub."
He looks at Phil again, hoping this had broken the tension, but his friend is looking at him with a look of sheer horror mixed with very awkwardly trying not to make eye contact. Colin feels his jaw drop. "What the fuck, Phil?"
"I know," Philip moans, and then he downs half the pint in his hand before looking seriously at him. "I never intended this to happen, it's just… god, she's just such a force to be reckoned with, I've never met anyone else like her. How could I not?" He looks like he's about to swoon over Colin's own sister.
Except, Colin realises he doesn't quite know which of his sisters Philip could be talking about. Surely not Fran, given her type was decidedly not a man, and hopefully not Hyacinth, who was not legal, but that just left… "Daphne?" he gasps. "Philip, please say it's not Daphne."
"What?" Philip frowns at him, apparently momentarily distracted from his swooning. "Of course it's not fucking Daphne, you bell-end. It's Eloise."
"Eloise!" His momentary relief that Simon AND Anthony weren't going to murder one of his closest friends is dash with surprise, before his thoughts catch up and he processes it. "Oh, actually that makes sense."
Philip rolls his eyes. "No, not that part, clearly you wouldn't be having an affair, I was just in shock." Colin waves him off, before taking a gulp of his own beer. "I just meant, you know, you and El, you make sense as a couple…" He looks at his friend suspiciously. "I presume you're telling me this because you two are now a couple, and it's not just some one night stand or something?" Colin doesn't need to know about his sister's bedroom lives in the slightest.
"Yes," Philip confirms, before finishing his glass. "You're really not mad?"
"No," Colin says with a laugh. "My sisters are their own people, I don't presume to have any say in who they do or do not date, nor do I have any interest in doing so. I know you're a good bloke, and you'll do right, and that's all I really need to know." Philip gives a sigh of relief. "It's a little weird to have my friend date my sister, but I'll get used to it. I've done it before. I was just surprised."
"So I was all worried for nothing then? Cool."
Colin shrugs in response. "Guess so? Anyway, do I want to know details, or is it all something a brother is better off not hearing?"
Philip's response is cut off by Michaela dropping down in the spare seat, looking as effortless and casual as she normally does. "Oh you told him then? Awesome." She frowns at the two empty glasses. "Did one of you arseholes either not order me a beer or drink mine?"
"Yeah," Philip answers, before clarifying, "I told him, it's cool."
"But before that, Philip drank your beer," Colin adds. "Wait, you already knew?"
"Of course," Michaela confirms, looking at her nails. "We were united in commonality, the same experience, how to tell your friend you're in love with his sister, yadda yadda ya." She impatiently snatches Colin's barely touched drink and takes a long sip. "By the way, I'm in love with Fran and we've started seeing each other. Just FYI, buddy."
"Huh, okay." Colin nods his head mindlessly, wishing he still had his drink so he could hide in the glass and process for a moment. This is less of a surprise. This one he'd seen coming. "That also makes sense, I guess. You two, together. I see it. Phil and El, also great match." The persistent itch that's been under his skin all evening feels like it's flaring up again, having dulled in the wake of Philip's announcement. It's like he's overlooking a key detail, but he isn't sure what. "Maybe this teaches me not to have friends," he tries to joke, but he feels so out of sorts suddenly, he can't inject his usual charm and candour, and it falls flat.
It's not that he cares, really. His sisters are their own people, and free to date who they like, and Colin knows his friends are good people, so he has no complaints if his sisters are choosing to date people who will treat them well. It's just that he feels… out of place, left behind, perhaps, he thinks. Simon had been Anthony's friend before he'd started seeing Daphne, but Kate and Sophie had been Colin's friends before they'd started dating his brothers. He'd known Kate, like Michaela, through work, and Sophie through social connections, same as he'd met Philip.
And now all his friends and siblings are pairing off and settling down, and Colin just feels… alone, stuck. He hasn't had a girlfriend in years, hasn't even been on a date in nearly as long. Hasn't even looked at another woman since he settled back in London a couple of years back and got back into a groove with his siblings and Penelope. God, it was hard for him to even get off these days, and when he did, he had to really work hard not to look too close at what got him over the line.
Even Penelope, the one constant in his life, his best friend, always around, now even she was looking to date, pair off, even if it was with some dickhead. Who probably wouldn't want her spending so much time with Colin, and talking to him every day, and god, what would he do if he couldn't even speak to Penelope every day?
"Don't be such a fucking drama queen," Michaela deadpans, with a roll of her eyes, and he jumps, thinking he has spoken his thoughts out-loud unknowingly, but then realises she's responding to his declaration not to have friends at all.
Philip laughs, but stifles it when Colin looks at him. "Come on, Col," he says, placatingly. "It's not like this changes much. We're still friends." He glances at Michaela, who raises her eyebrows, before he looks back at Colin, the anxiety clear in his face. "Right?"
"Of course, mate." Colin gives what he hopes is a reassuring nod, before frowning down at his hands, feeling a bit like he had too many thoughts in his heads. "I was just… observing. I make a friend, they date my sibling, I'm still single. It's fine."
"Christ," mutters Michaela. "Hardly worth having a breakdown over."
"I'm not having a breakdown, Mick."
"Besides, you don't really have to worry about it all that much," Philip muses. "You just have Hyacinth and Gregory left, and they're babies. You're hardly going to be making friends they'd be interested in."
"Right," Colin agrees, still a little distracted, but not enough to miss the alarming glint that had just formed in Michaela's eye.
"Though, Penelope's still single, and presumably still your friend." He feels his heart rate pick up at his words, his breathing getting a little heavier as he processes them. "Greg's old enough, right? And not that much younger than her. Heck, even Hy—" She breaks off, smirking, as Colin stands suddenly, almost knocking his chair to the floor. "You alright there?"
"Penelope isn't going to date Greg or Hy," he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, before looking at Phil. "Right?"
Philip shrugs, looking far more casual now than he had when he came in. "I mean, it's possible. You're the one talking about your friends always dating your siblings. And I guess we're evidence, so maybe you're onto something."
They're watching him, expectant looks on his face, like they're waiting for something. Like they know something they're waiting for him to realise.
And Colin, well, he's thinking of Penelope.
Penelope giggling over coffee with him. Penelope editing his work with meticulous care, like it matters. The warm sensation he feels in his chest when she smiles at him, the way she trusts him with secrets, the way she always knows what he needs to hear on a bad day. The way she sees him.
And Penelope in that green dress. Penelope in any clothes, really. (Penelope out of clothes, and god he's been trying to avoid it, but he thinks about it far too often, these day, like a creep, except he can't stop because he only wants to think of her, ever.) Her hair, her eyes, her body, her mind, her heart, her soul.
He loves all his brothers and sisters, but none of them are the Bridgerton who should be dating Penelope.
"I have to go," he announces, but finds himself rooted to the spot, unable to move.
"Do you need a map?" Philip asks, cheekily. He doesn't sound surprised at his proclamation. "I would have thought you knew the way to Penelope's flat in your sleep by now."
"I don't think he wants to go over and sleep," Michaela mutters.
Colin sits down abruptly. He's just remembered Penelope is at home, preparing for her date tomorrow night. "I…" he trails off, suddenly unsure.
But this is Phil and Mick, and they've all always been honest with each other. (Except for them being into his sisters, he guesses, but he doesn't really want to hear about that, so he can forgive it.) He's never gone as deep with them about himself as he has Pen, true, but he's still always been honest.
"What if… Pen… what if she just wants to be friends?"
Michaela and Philip look at him for a long moment, before glancing at each other and bursting into loud, uncontrollable laughter. The girls at the table behind them are looking uncomfortable again. "Comedy night is Tuesday, Col," Philip manages to get out, clapping him on the shoulder.
Michaela snaps her fingers so he looks at her. "I adore you, but you're a fucking idiot sometimes, Bridgerton. I think it's a family trait, to be honest," she adds as an aside to Philip, who hums in agreement. She looks back at Colin. "You're not getting a pep talk. Man up and do it. Doors that way." She gestures with a thumb over her shoulder.
"Right." He nods. "Thanks, I really—"
"Go!" they both practically shout at him. "For fucks sake," Philip mutters as Colin finally stands again and races to the door.
Once he's disappeared from sight, they grin at each other, before Michaela reaches into her pocket and digs out a slightly crumpled fifty pound note, handing it to a smirking Philip. "I really did think we'd be doing this song and dance for at least another week," she says, in good humour, before draining the rest of her glass. "How did you know telling him about his sisters would work?"
Philip shrugs. "Felt it was worth a shot more than anything. Good thing Prudence came through, as well, because I could not sit through another Thursday night with those two making eyes at each other when they think the other isn't looking."
"Well, good job to us all." She punches him on the shoulder. "Do you think we'll see him next week?"
Philip laughs. "I don't think we'll see either of them for at least a month. As it is, you and I have only shown up the last few weeks to keep up appearances." He glances at his watch. "Speaking of which… "
"I was going to suggest another drink, but you're right." She stands, adjusting her jacket. "All my best to El."
"And to Fran," Philip returns with a nod as he too stands and they make their way outside. "And I guess we'll all see each other in a month then."
Michaela winks, and they walk their seperate directions, grinning to themselves.
~*~The following Thursday: The Mollip Group Chat~*~
Michaela: I don't want to be a nerd or anything
Michaela: but at least some sign of life would be nice @Colin?
Michaela: It would be a bit of a downer for my evening to tell my girlfriend her brother is dead
Michalea: if I'm being perfectly honest.
Philip: you had me in the first half, ngl
Philip: if im being perfectly honest
Philip: i didn't expect youd be the one reaching out
Philip: do you miss us
Michaela: It is strange to be home on a Thursday night.
Michaela: But that is all I'm admitting to.
Philip: miss you too, mick
Philip: not enough to put on pants though
Michaela: I'd be grossed out if I wasn't also pantless for a Bridgerton sister.
Michaela: Instead it's solidarity and begrudging respect.
Philip: its been like an hour though @Colin just a thumbs up so we know youre breathing at least
Colin: Hi everyone, it's Penelope ❤️
Michaela: Penelope!!!!
Philip: hi penelope
Philip: please dont tell me I jinxed my best friend
Michaela: RIP Colin and my evening plans
Colin: Colin is okay, he just can't text right now 🤭
Colin: He's a little… tied up, heheh 🤭
Michaela: Regretting ever caring now.
Philip: el was reading over my shoulder and is now pretending to hurl
Colin: I have no regrets 😍
Michaela: I always knew you were a wild one Penelope Featherington.
Philip: I have to go
Michaela: El is hurling for real?
Philip: no she recovered when she remembered she's a bridgerton and its always a competition
Philip: so she went to find the rope
Philip: later nerds
Michaela: Not going to lie, Phil, it's a little weird but…
Michaela: What a GREAT idea!
Michaela: I'm also out.
Colin: Oh this was fun we should all catch up soon!
Colin: But not too soon, I'm not sharing Colin for a while 🙅♀️
Colin: Everyone remember to stretch and hydrate! 💦