A/N:Well, HELLO?
I don't even know what's going on with myself and how on earth I'm posting already but listen, I promised myself I wouldn't let any more stories be forgotten and left on my notebooks. I'm publishing things, this is my publishing stories era.
(And truth be told after watching season 3 I was also inspired to write another season 3 sort of canon divergence/fix-it fic despite having written an entire season 3 fic just last month but let's see how it goes).
Now, for THIS fic. As tagged, Polin is the main couple, and Kanthony the second - now how much Kanthony there will be I am not sure yet as I have some scenes figured out in my head but not all. So they might be a strong secondary or just truly secondary secondary couple, so this is just a warning for everyone reading - yes there will be kanthony I just don't know how much of it yet.
Second thing, Colin has the same age on this story as book Colin (meaning 33), I wanted this because it felt more true to the characters (both Penelope and Kate seen as spinters on modern age just wouldn't make sense if Penelope is 19 and Kate 27, come on). I like to think that even 30 and 36/37 is too early but that would definitely make more sense in our modern society - and for them in their own mindset too.
Third thing, since the kanthony love story arc didn't have yet Anthony still acts a bit (a lot?) like a jerk sometimes it is intentional (but don't worry I love my baby).
Well, now I've talked too much, enjoy!
Colin wasn't sure what he was thinking.
One would think that after a ten-year career, he'd have learnt to say no to Anthony. And still.
Still, it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, or so he reminded himself every time dread set in at the prospect of working with his brother.
"Okay, I'm gonna need you to read page 32 again," the casting director ordered.
With a deep breath, Colin quickly scanned through the pages until he located the correct one. It wasn't as if it was going to work, anyway.
With a stolen glare at Cressida Cowper, he shifted his gaze back to the text in front of him, quickly recognising the words from an old 90s romantic comedy. That was going to be interesting.
Their eyes met the casting director's, who silently signalled them to carry on with a nod of his head.
"I fear not recovering if I was once again ... cast aside, as I would absolutely expect to be." Colin began, looking at Cressida with all the intensity his acting abilities could muster, "There are too many pictures of you everywhere, too many films. You'd go, and I'd be... well, buggered, basically."
Cressida shockingly did not elevate her chin or nose in her typical arrogant fashion, instead tilting her head and looking at him with deep, vulnerable eyes. "That really is a real no, isn't it?" She added a laugh that sounded fake, as if her heart was breaking.
"I live in Notting Hill. You live in Beverly Hills. Everyone in the world knows who you are," Colin, with a slight touch of embarrassment, placed his hand on his waist while explaining, "My mother has trouble remembering my name."
Cressida's eyes narrowed in her typical fashion, causing Colin to fight back a laugh and stay in character. The truth was that she possessed exceptional acting abilities, shining in almost any role that did not require her to appear foolish or vulnerable, which is why she had difficulty being cast in romantic roles.
"Fine. Fine. Good decision," she responded firmly. "The fame thing isn't really real, you know." She put her hands on her hips and elevated her nose. "Do not forget — I'm also just a girl. Standing in front of a boy. Asking him to love her."
"Okay, that is enough," the casting director called, and Colin's tense shoulders relaxed in relief. Had he not asked them to stop, he would have had to bear the burden of Cressida kissing his cheek and the lasting trauma that would have ensued.
With great enthusiasm, Colin closed his script and contemplated the fact that the rapid chemistry read suggested that he wouldn't be paired with Cressida for that specific project.
"Great work," he muttered insincerely as he casually slung his bag over his shoulder without even glancing at her.
"Always," she said with a condescending tone, then added, while giving him a flirtatious once-over, "You as well."
Or at least flirty with whatever actor would boost her image the most. It was quite a scene at the last BAFTA when Armitage Cho had to make a quick escape to avoid getting drenched by a glass of Veuve Clicquot.
"Right," Colin said, for the lack of a better reply. With an awkward wave, he bid his farewell, saying, "I shall be going then," before following the casting director and his assistants outside.
And had Cressida spooked him less, he would have opted for the second and more discreet exit, where he wouldn't be greeted by rows and rows of aspiring actors and actresses, all of whom were now staring at him.
"We will take a twenty-minute break!" one of the assistants declared to the actors and actresses, eliciting a few disapproving groans in response.
Temporarily disregarding the inquisitive glances, Colin fixed his gaze on the crowd and contemplated how he truly didn't miss the times when he had to queue for just one opportunity to be selected. His professional success had grown so much in the last couple of years that he no longer had to put in any effort to land roles—casting directors would actively seek him out. Admittedly, his professional journey was still progressing, but judging by the multitude of eyes and whispers that followed him as he navigated the room, it was clear that he had transformed into more than just an average actor. He was now recognised as the Colin Bridgerton.
And the Colin Bridgerton was extremely tired and desperately needed to rest right away.
"Colin!"
The sound of a sweet, high-pitched voice interrupted his thoughts. Abruptly, he turned around at the familiar sound, instantly recognising it. And then he saw her—a tiny redhead standing out amidst the sea of actresses.
"Pen?" he asked, his mouth curving into a smile involuntarily.
Paying no attention to the observers, he walked over to the woman, who now wore a similar grin.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Chemistry testing," he said, gesturing towards the room he had just come out of.
"Really?" she asked. "Who are you going to play?"
When he glanced at her, he hesitated momentarily, as if he suddenly remembered the confidential nature of his involvement in the project.
"Never…nevermind," Penelope stuttered. "You don't have to tell me yet."
Shaking his head, he couldn't help but let out a chuckle as a smile graced his lips once again. "It's alright, Pen. I understand that you wouldn't say anything. Besides..." He straightened his back and surveyed the gathering of people surrounding them. "I'm certain that the news will spread soon."
She nodded, and he glanced at her once more. "Just so you know, I'm portraying Leonidas," he said.
"Really?" Penelope asked. That was a funny twist.
"Why? Who are you auditioning for?" he asked, noticing her intrigued expression.
"Um, I'm," she anxiously gestured towards the actresses standing next to her and then nervously clasped her hands together, "I'm auditioning for the role of Nora."
His eyebrows rose. "Really? Friends on and off the screen then."
Nervous laughter escaped her lips as she replied, "I suppose," her hand reaching up to scratch the back of her head. "Assuming I'll get the part," she added.
There were numerous young, attractive, and likely more skilled actresses auditioning for that role. After being met with rejection from countless auditions, she gained a realistic understanding of the process. Penelope, despite her age, couldn't fathom why she hadn't abandoned that foolish dream already. Nonetheless, she persevered, making a promise to herself to attempt one more audition before eventually acknowledging reason and concentrating on her prior, more secure profession.
"You will," Colin said, ever the optimist, or forever oblivious to Penelope's struggles. She wasn't sure which. "I am sure. If I wasn't, I would bribe my bro—" he quickly stopped himself, flinching at his slip.
"Your brother?" Penelope interrupted, moving closer to the man who was still recoiling, and whispered, "Colin, is this an Anthony movie?"
Anthony Bridgerton was known for many things. His quick temper, dominating personality, micromanagement abilities, and devotion to his family. Surprisingly, these very attributes proved to be incredibly advantageous to his unexpected career as a director, despite his initial reluctance. In all honesty, Anthony had vowed to solely manage the family entertainment business from a bureaucratic perspective. Nevertheless, after his father passed away, he discovered himself carrying on his legacy in the field of film directing.
And, surprisingly, it was something he had gained a reputation for. His films were not only loved, but eagerly anticipated. It was well known that no matter the plot, any movie Anthony directed was certain to be a masterpiece. He was hailed as the next Scorcese, and perhaps even the next Spielberg.
And he loathed every bit of it. All Anthony desired was to peacefully create his movies, all the while striving not to lose his sanity while assisting his mother in running the Bridgerton industries. That was why, every time he started a new project, he did so with the utmost secrecy, simply to fend off everyone's constant nagging for as long as possible.
"Don't tell anyone," he begged. "Unless you want me to be expelled from home."
Even though she was surprised, she couldn't help but laugh at his theatrics. "You don't even live with them anymore."
"Yes, but would you want to be banned from the Bridgerton holidays?" he asked in horror, "What if I'm never able to have my mother's cookies ever again?"
Typically, seeing the old and silly version of Colin would make her burst into laughter. However, it was not a typical day, and it hadn't been in a long time.
Colin quickly became aware of Penelope's deteriorating mood and understood the cause behind it.
"How are things between you and Eloise?" he asked.
Penelope twisted her lips and shrugged weakly, her voice barely above a whisper as she replied, "Pretty much the same."
The truth was, she had firsthand experience of being excluded from the Bridgerton's holiday celebrations, as Eloise had made sure of that.
"I'm sure she will come around," Colin said, his optimism shining through his words once again.
But the redhead only shook her head. "I'm not as certain."
"Pen," he said, his voice gentle as he clasped her hand, trying to capture her attention, "The friendship between the two of you has remained steadfast throughout the years. I know my sister. And if she knows you as well as I do, she will eventually come around, I'm sure of it."
His unwavering gaze, with deep, dark blue eyes, bore into her as he said all of those things. Unfortunately, it reminded her of all the reasons she had foolishly and misguidedly fallen for Colin Bridgerton.
Kind, understanding, appeaser. Colin was the sort of guy who noticed everyone and extended his warmth to even the most unworthy individuals. It was truly amazing how even fame couldn't alter that aspect of his personality. Surely, even she could not ignore the impenetrable facade he had built over the years, shielding himself from the world and projecting an image of a confident, irresistible alpha male that his fans desired. In the entertainment world, he was what he needed to be, but still, in moments like that, he was who she needed him to be. Himself.
She sometimes wished that wasn't the case. She wished he wasn't the genuine and kind person he had always been, or that maybe their paths hadn't crossed before his rise to fame and all of his masks. Maybe then she would have never loved him. There would be no glimmer of hope in her heart to say that he noticed her—and that one day, he could view her as more than a friend.
As if on cue, his phone started ringing. He quickly glanced at it, then promptly declined the call. "I really need to go now, Pen. Tracy is waiting for me."
She forced a fake smile, her lips curling upwards in a strained gesture, and nodded. Of course. Tracy. The runway model of the month. Or, unfortunately, as it turned out, the year. Pen often deluded herself, convincing herself that the girls Colin dated were blind to his true self and uninterested in the man beneath the celebrity façade. Nevertheless, she couldn't deny that these relationships always endured, leaving her to admit that her jealousy and delusion occasionally crossed the line.
So she waved him a goodbye and then joined the back of the line, where she apparently belonged. Waiting for another chance to be noticed, to feel relevant, to be cast in an Anthony Bridgerton film, which was laughable.
And if not laughable, problematic at the very least. As Penelope was certain that if she was working on a project with Anthony and Colin at the same time, Eloise would have solid evidence to support her suspicions that Penelope had only befriended her with the secret, twisted intention of rising to fame through her very well-connected family.
But, oh well, Penelope reasoned to herself, she had nothing to worry about. It wasn't like she was going to be chosen, anyway.
"Should we wait for Charlotte?"
"She's currently at Paris Fashion Week and she made it clear that she should only be contacted in case of utmost urgency," Agatha remarked, raising an eyebrow as if silently assessing the demanding woman. "Moreover, she assured me that she trusts my judgement, whatever it may be, so she shouldn't dare to complain," she added, pursing her lips as if foreseeing Charlotte's future objections.
Anthony nodded at her, though he found it hard to believe that Charlotte had no opinions about the casting for her book adaptation. However, he wisely chose not to interfere in the complex dynamics of the power-play friendship between the two women.
"Alright, so tell me. What are you thinking?" Anthony asked.
Agatha gazed at the array of pictures on the table before them. "I believe that, for this project, it might be best to consider casting new talent for the lead roles." With a discerning eye, she pointed to one and inquired, "What about her?"
Anthony picked up the picture and stared intently at the girl captured in the frame. She was undeniably stunning—one of the first things that captivated him. However…
"Isn't she too old?" he asked.
Agatha only raised her eyebrows at him. "And how old are you, may I ask?"
He glared at her and her antics. Having known him since he was a toddler, she was keenly aware that he was turning forty that year. "I'm the director and not the main actress in an adventure romance movie, aren't I?" he replied.
At Agatha's unwavering glare and silence, he continued, "Aren't you supposed to be a producer? Shouldn't you be well-informed about the audience profile?"
"Yes," she replied sharply, snatching the picture from his hands. "I am a producer. That's precisely why I'm informing you that she is the correct choice. She is new, she has the perfect look, and she is a splendid actress. Or do you not think she's attractive enough for your film?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Anthony snapped back, his voice laced with frustration. "I'm simply approaching it from an advertising perspective. You know that perfectly well."
"Good," she replied, placing the picture back on the table while sending him a sidelong glance. "I'd hate to think that the boy I once saw in diapers now selects his cast with the same discernment he applies to choosing his dating partners. The younger the better?"
Anthony rolled his eyes, feeling a slight heat rise in his cheeks as she openly brought up his diapers in front of the casting director and their assistants. Among all the women he had ever known, Agatha Danbury stood out as the most insufferable and overbearing.
Instead of adding fuel to her caustic remarks, he turned to one of his assistants and said, "Call Kate Sharma. Tell her to meet us in my office tomorrow at 9 a.m."
Agatha smiled contentedly and said, "Now that we've taken care of that, who else is left to make a decision about?"
"I am set on Thomas Dorset as the lead. We just need him and Kate to do a chemistry read," he said and Agatha nodded. "And as we already discussed, Colin will be Leonidas."
"Yes, I agree, it suits him," she remarked, her gaze fixed upon the photographs resting upon the table. "And Catherine?" she inquired, as selecting his romantic interest was equally significant.
Anthony nodded, comprehending her worries. "Bert mentioned that he had a satisfactory chemistry read with Cressida Cowper," he remarked, gesturing towards the casting director, who acknowledged Agatha's inquisitive gaze with a nod.
"Cressida Cowper?" She looked back at Anthony. "In a romantic role?" Are you certain?"
The director cocked his head. "It's definitely innovative, and if Bert says it works, I trust him."
"Alright," Agatha reluctantly admitted. In her experience, Bert Fife was quite disconnected most of the time, but for some strange reason, Anthony seemed to have faith in him. And while she could help choose the cast, she was absent during the chemistry reading and couldn't offer any other options.
"Now, I do need your assistance with this," Anthony said, sliding pictures of a dozen actresses to the centre of the table. "Nora," he explained, "I must admit that when I initially read the source material, the character did not captivate me. But she must now, if we are to have a successful film. If we find the perfect person, it will make a world of difference for me. What do you think?"
Agatha's eyes were fixed on the multitude of faces captured in the pictures, her bottom lip caught between her teeth in a contemplative manner. On that pile, she saw a broad mix of outstanding actors, but Nora's position required more than simply skill. True, she was a minor character at best. Initially naïve, consigned as Leonidas' closest friend and sidekick, she would need to cultivate a dominating air over time. She was the sort of character that could make or ruin a film, since a story and its primary characters are only as powerful as their supporting cast.
Then her gaze focused on someone in particular.
"Her," she said, pointing to the photo.
Anthony directed his gaze to where her finger was pointed at, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
With a satisfied smile, she confidently declared, "I am. She is absolutely perfect for the role, with a face that is not widely recognised and fairly fresh in the industry, and we are well aware of her acting abilities. And if my memory serves me right, she is already familiar with your brother, isn't she?" she asked.
He had to admit she had a valid argument. To be honest, he didn't have many objections at all. He had quite liked the idea from the start, but he simply didn't want to show any favouritism, given her connection to his family. But if Agatha Danbury herself said it, it was undoubtedly the correct course of action.
So, turning to the same assistant as before, he instructed, "Call Penelope Featherington. Inform her she has been cast for the role."
A/N:So this first chapter is basically an introduction, alright? I don't enjoy throwing a lot of info at once, so trust I will explain things slowly with time.
And, oh, as some may have noticed, the script Colin and Cressida read is from the amazing movie Notting Hill, not created by me.
That is it! (for now)
Please don't forget your likes and reviews as they are deeply appreciated.
God bless you and have a great day!