Well, I’m still living in the delulu of Bridgerton Season 3 and it has well and truly taken over my entire life at this point. It has become my comfort blanket, jammies, and homemade soup all at once. Not only have I dedicated all of my free time to re-watching my beloved Penelope and Colin Bridgerton, I have sacrificed my free time to the altars of Reddit and AO3 (fanfic website). If I’m not trying to find some new way to insert fantastic quips and revelations to the PolinBridgerton subreddit, I am reading every type of fan fiction known to man about Polin (Penelope and Colin’s ship name). I could make you blush with some of the things I’ve seen written about these two. Seriously. And I’m eating it all up with an extra large ladle. I am a very hungry girl and I need to be fed.

As you may or may not have noticed, I have been a little more constant with my blog posting of late. I have spent about two years in a strange headspace and most days just cannot bring myself to put any effort into my most beloved hobby. But, I am making a lot of life changes nowadays and writing has become a real commitment again. In fact, I enrolled myself into a writing workshop and just finished the course. It was a basic Writing 101 class and gave me so much and advice and information on how to just keep on writing. Just write. Every day. Even if it’s just for ten minutes. Get it out of your brain and onto the page. I loved it so much. It was a very delightful kick in the ass.

And because I dedicated myself to going to that class, I am more motivated to get my words out on to the page and into the world. By the way, thank you to everyone who gives me the great gift of their free time to read these ramblings. I truly appreciate it. I think that one of the biggest problems I have had with writing is worrying about whether people will like it or not. Judge me on my writing ability or choice of writing topics. And wouldn’t you know that Bridgerton (Season 3 specifically, of course) has helped me embrace a new mindset. At one point in the show, Colin is trying to persuade Penelope to practice flirting with him as an exercise to gain confidence in interactions she may with the men of the
Ton during her search for a suitable match for marriage. He gives her the all too relatable advice (to a woman of 2024 as 1815) to say what she needs to say to a potential suitor without worrying about how he might take it. Simple but effective and short enough to even stick in the most unserious of brains (mine).

I kept Colin’s advice in my head when I went into my first class of the writing workshop and I was able to write something I loved, without ever caring about what someone might think of it. In fact, I even read it aloud in class! Now, I am a talker (when I get going) but not always the first one to put myself out there into the world. But with the combination of actual pride in my words and an instructor who was very adamant that everyone should actually participate in the class, I read my words. And I lived. Yay! I felt invigorated in a way I haven’t felt in years. (I actually think I’m about to cry.)

When the class over and before we all went on our own ways for the week we were handed the exercise of writing 15 minutes a day about absolutely anything in the world. Just keep up the writing because writing begets more writing and more writing and more writing, ad nauseum… So, with that homework sitting in my to do list, I tried to think of something to write. And what do you suppose was the only subject that could fit into my all too little brain? Bridgerton! Of course, Bridgerton! At this point, I had read so many fan fictions of Polin that I could literally not think of anything else. And because of that I could only find one thing to write about for my first 15 minute assignment…

But when I opened my computer to start writing I got scared. Other people could write so much better than me. Other people could come up with much more clever twists on the story. Other people could create evocative kissing scenes, and romantic scenes, and sex scenes and I couldn’t. Really, I couldn’t. It felt inappropriate somehow and I was extremely intimidated. But I was determined to try. Putting myself in the most comfortable time and place to encourage my writing, I wrote a scene to the show that never before existed and the 15 minutes flew by and I was ultimately happy with the end result. Now I’m debating if I could write a fanfic and actually post it on AO3. I’m still not sure about it, but I’ll keep you posted. Otherwise, in an attempt to keep up with writing things and not caring if anyone likes them or not, I am going to go ahead and share what I wrote on that day. I am rather pleased with it and I am eternally grateful that I have been able to put myself back in a place where I actually love writing again. I hope you enjoy! (Not edited in the slightest, and presented just as I finished it.)

“It just never occurred to me that you, of all people, could be so cruel.”

Colin stood fidgeting as he watched Penelope stomp away. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. She had heard what he said about her last year? When he was drunk and high on the knowledge that he had just saved the Featherington women from a horrible con artist?

He sighed the deepest of sighs as his gaze trailed down to the ground. He was surprised to see a green hair comb–the exact same shade as Penelope’s charming dress. It drew him like a magnet, and he reached down to pick up the only remnant of Pen he had left. Twirling it between his fingers, he looked up at the sky and sighed again.  What was he going to do?

Of course, he felt like hell for knowing that he talked about her in that regard, and that he had the audacity to do it in front of the Lords. He would never really think those things about Pen, but he just wanted to get them off of his back. He really wanted them to go away and stop talking about his best friend and for all the confidence he had just displayed when face to face with Jack Featherington, he just didn’t have it in him to try to explain Pen’s importance in his life–that he regarded her as so much more than someone to court. 

He pocketed the comb and turned towards the entrance that would lead him back to the ball. But his mood had drastically changed and he didn’t feel that he could live up to the new “more fun” Colin that the Ton was excited about. Besides, he couldn’t get Pen’s voice out of his head and he couldn’t stop seeing her frowns and he just couldn’t muster the energy to go on with the evening as he had. He put his hand in his pocket and played with the comb as he walked down the pathway to call for his carriage. He was so tired. It was time to go home.

___

Penelope was beyond furious. How dare he? HOW DARE HE? Did he really think that he could walk up to her and talk to her like she was one of the vapid debutantes he seemed to enjoy talking to at the garden party? She used to be his friend. She used to be the one person he could always talk to. She was the one who had invested so much heart and care into their friendship–why did he think she would just accept it? Was he really that out of touch? Did he really think she would just fall at his feet? Did he ever really know her at all?

The thoughts would not stop flowing as she sat through the bumpy carriage ride home. She wanted to hold on to her anger because it let her feel like she had control of her own destiny, but (*)it was so difficult not to let the sadness in. Maybe she had really put too much belief into the idea that she was special to Colin. But, he was always so kind to her and he always managed to find her and talk to her at various balls. And if it was a particularly wonderful event, he would ask her to dance. She was so in love with him for so long that she must have read so much more into his actions than he was really feeling. It was all too depressing to think about, because it meant that she had been deluding herself for years, and wasting her feelings on an idea that really didn’t exist. The sadness at knowing her dream was dead was something she could understand–the anger was all together something new. She needed to release her frustration and the carriage was taking all too long to get her home and to her ink and quill.

___

Colin slowly made his way upstairs to his room at Bridgerton House, his footsteps heavy with guilt. He was a gentleman, he was supposed to have taken care with Penelope–to always stand up for her and build her up, no matter the circumstance. And he had obviously failed so spectacularly. It never should have happened and he couldn’t even begin to start figuring out what he could do to make it better until, at least, the echo of Pen’s painful words quieted down in his brain. He sighed. How was he going to get his lovely friend back? He was still contemplating the extremely complex question as he finally made it inside his bedroom door.

Feeling the desperate need to be off of his feet and into his feelings, Colin stripped his shoes and clothing as he trudged to his bed. He wished that he could shed his worries so easily. He crawled over the coverlet and heaved himself on to his back with a groan. His eyes found the moulding around the ceiling and his thoughts, finally, began to slow. Taking deep cleansing breaths, he wrangled with his pain, and guilt, and disappointment in himself until he could focus on the most important questions of his life. How was he going to be able to fix things with Pen and was she ever going to open up enough to him to let him even try? 

As he lay in bed, considering various plans and speeches he was suddenly bombarded with the (*) memories of Pen through the years–visiting Bridgerton House to spend time with Eloise, talking to him about his school successes and failures, trading snarky barbs with each other about the silly world of the Ton–so many different things. But the dancing, he could never forget the dancing. Pen was a wonderful partner who matched him in all movements and made him feel twenty feet tall. And when he was able to help her push her way through tough times in her life, he felt that he alone could be the one to help her–that she needed him in order to be safe and protected in the world. 

The memories flooded through his body until he found that he was starting to become distressed. He was already paying for a terrible mistake he had made in the past, and now he had to mend the rift–he was pretty sure that the quality and joy of his life depended on it. He needed to get to Pen as soon as possible and apologize and promise to never be so cavalier in his words about her again. That he would do anything to be her very good friend once more, and would let her know with every single minute together how much she meant to him. 

Colin rolled on to his side to get more comfortable when he felt a sharp pain in his thigh. Rolling onto his back he put his hand into his pocket and pulled out Pen’s green hair comb. Smiling, he tucked the comb into his large fist and then placed his hand under his pillow. He knew that he was going to dream about her tonight and he welcomed the warm glow that was spreading through his chest. Just have to wait until tomorrow…

___

Penelope finally made it home and rushed up to her bedroom. Her various writing tools were just waiting for her to grab them and do her work. She rushed to her chair and grabbed her quill–desperate to get her feelings onto paper. If she had been thinking straight she would have taken a few minutes to calm down before she started writing, but in her turmoil she could not be stopped. 

There were many things to write about for the next day’s Whistledown, but she could not get Colin out of her mind. Lady Hastings and her failure to pay Madam Delacroix for an entire season’s worth of gowns would have to wait. Colin Bridgerton needed to be put down a peg or two and she was just the person to do it.  Pulling one of several pieces of blank paper she began scribbling furiously–drops of ink splattering onto her hands and desk. She had no mind to any of the destruction as words tumbled one after the other and the other in her haste to finish her work.

I hope that you all enjoyed my ramblings. Not bad for 15 minutes! Long live Bridgerton and Polin! (And if you still haven’t watched Bridgerton at this point, what are you even doing with your life?!)

© DRB 2024

Photo by Nick Morrison on Unsplash