Crash

Reality

That night, despite Charles's best efforts to reassure her, Penelope tossed and turned for hours. Finally, by the time 3am rolled round, Charles flicked the lamp on and sat up, rubbing his eyes. 

"Amore mio," he said, voice drowsy with sleep. "Talk to me."

Penelope sat with him, twiddling with the signet ring on his finger. "I don't want anything to change."

"I told you, I don't care what people think. I only care what you think, that's what matters to me."

"People are gonna tear us apart."

"No they won't."

"You don't know my fans, Charles. They're very...protective."

He gave her a look, smiling slightly. "Should I be scared?"

"Very. If you hurt me, they will destroy you."

He leaned in, kissing her softly. "Well, I best not hurt you then." His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her into him so that her head rested on his chest. His fingers found her hair, brushing it from her face as he kissed her temple. "I'll make you a promise. You're my priority, and I don't care what anyone says, that won't change. You and me, we're real. I promise"

"Okay," she whispered. 

"Okay. Close your eyes, it's okay. I'm here with you. Always."

**********************

That morning, Penelope woke up in an empty bed. It was only 7:30, but Charles was already gone, having left a folded note on the pillow that read: "Gone to the gym, back soon."

An annoying buzzing sound had awoken her, which she had assumed was her alarm even though she didn't remember setting one. With one eye open, she fumbled for her phone to hit snooze, but it wasn't an alarm that was going off. 

Still in a sleepy daze, she answered the call. "Hello?"

"So," a smug voice said on the other end. "Monaco mystery man is Charles Leclerc. I have to say, I didn't expect that."

Penelope groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Jasper, it's like 7am. What do you want?"

"Okay, grumpy, relax. Just wanted to tell you that you're trending on Twitter."

"Shut up, Jasper," she said glumly. 

"Ah, I'm kidding. Well, not really, but still. Listen, I just spoke to Carlisle, who was as charming as ever by the way. He wants us to debut the routine at showcase. I said I'd ask you and let him know, but honestly I don't think we have that much choice in the matter."

Showcase. A pompous event ran by the state to parade the performers and their routines before Nationals. It was an event designed to intimidate the competitors from the other states across the country, and if you were good, it often worked. Penelope had been competing there for years, using it as a practice run for Nationals, but this year she'd purposely opted out. Now, it seemed her coach had other ideas. 

"I thought we were skipping showcase," she said quickly. "Put all focus on Nationals, place high enough to get into Olympic qualifiers."

"He thinks we need the practice. See how the routine works on a stage rink, all that shit."

"That gives us a week. You think we can do it?"

"I think we should try. Rumour has it that the Olympic squad coach is going, and if we put on a good show..."

"Might help us in the long run."

"Exactly. So, I take it you're in?"

Penelope took a moment to collect her thoughts. If she did this, took on the extra work, it could pay off massively. On the other hand, if they fucked up and the scout was there to see it...her hopes of finally making Olympic squad would be well and completely squashed.