Crash

Keeping a Promise

Penelope kept telling herself the same two words as she hurried down the corridors of the studio towards the back door: "Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry."

Her stomach was in knots, her palms sweaty and lacerated with nail marks. She felt awful, her conversation with Li replaying over and over in her head. It hurt her to know that her director was questioning her commitment to the show and her dedication to her job. It made her question as to whether she'd bitten off more than she could chew. She never wanted to get close to a point where she had to choose between dance and acting. 

She threw the fire exit door open at the back of the building, basking in the fresh outside air. Her lungs felt like they were on fire, but she kept counting in her head, trying to calm down. She couldn't let herself panic and get overwhelmed. She needed to stay focused, to stay calm enough to make good decisions. 

Without thinking, she reached into the depths of her bag, rifling through the contents until she managed to produce a familiar crumpled slip of paper laden with messy handwriting. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she typed in the number. It felt like time was suddenly standing still as it rang. She heard the tone five times before a voice picked up on the other end of the phone. 

"Salut," Charles's confident voice spoke, dissolving the stressed tension in Penelope's stomach into excited butterflies. 

"Hey, you," Penelope said, breathing in deeply as she clenched and unclenched her fists again and again, sitting down defeatedly on the concrete steps. "Thought I'd take you up on that offer."

His tone shifted as he spoke again, more excited and pleased. "Miss Jonas," he laughed, "I almost gave up on you."

"You should've known better."

"Ah, yes. Where are you right now?"

Penelope leaned herself back against the step, crossing her feet in front of her. The sun was warm on her skin, ebbing away at her anxiety. "I am sat outside the studio. Outside fire exit number 3, I think."

"Ooh. Exotic."

"Oh, yeah. Really pretty scenery out here. You should stop by some time."

"What are you doing out there? Surely you should be inside the studio, not sat by the fire escape, hm?"

"I, uh...had a pretty shitty day. So I guess fire exit 3 is about as much as I deserve right now."

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, followed by a series of fumbling that vaguely resembled the jingling of keys. 

Penelope chewed her lip. "Charles? You still there?"

"I'm here," he said finally. Penelope didn't want to admit it to herself, but she was relieved. "Stay where you are. Don't move for the next fifteen minutes."

Penelope frowned. "What are you talking about? Why can't I go anywhere?"

"Because," he explained, "I'm coming to pick you up."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. I can't let you sit on the fire exit steps feeling sorry for yourself now can I?"

Penelope felt her cheeks begin to bloom a rosy pink. She pulled her knees up to her chest, practically fizzing with anticipation. "Okay. I promise I'll stay put. Oh, but, how are you gonna get through the gate? Harry is pretty strict about letting people through."

She could practically hear him thinking the problem through. "Does this Harry like cars?"

"Uh...maybe?"

"Well, that settles it. Plan A is that I charm Harry with an autograph or maybe even a selfie. Plan B...I drive through the gate. Sound good."

"Sure, Romeo. Sounds great."

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

Luckily, Charles didn't have to use plan B. Twenty minutes later, his sleek black Ferrari slowed to a stop around the back of the building. The car was even more impressive in the light, but Penelope was more interested in the person inside. 

"Hey!" she called as he emerged from the car, her mood suddenly lifted. "I take it Harry liked cars, then?"

"Loves them," he declared as he sat down on the step next to her, squinting in the sunlight. "Took a few pictures for his nephews and I was in. You guys should really get better security. You're lucky I'm not a serial killer."

"I'll make sure to mention it at the next board meeting."

Charles's eyes settled on her, watching her expression carefully. His hand found hers, planting a soft kiss on her knuckles. "What's going on, hm? You okay?"

She thought about lying and saying she was fine, but she didn't see the point. She was tired of pretending she had everything together all the time. She shook her head, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm just tired."

Charles's expression softened. He held his arms out and she leaned back into them, his hands stroking her hair. She felt safe when they were together, secluded in their bubble. "Hey, it's okay. You're okay."

"I think I might get fired," she admitted, bottom lip trembling. "I had this conversation with my director today about wanting to do more location filming but right now...there's not enough time for me to do everything. If I don't do something, the decision between dancing and acting is gonna be made for me." She took a long, slow breath, rubbing her eyes. "I'm sorry...you barely know me and I'm telling you all this shit. I'm not a very fun dinner date, clearly."

"Don't be stupid. I wouldn't change anything about you. And as for your director problems...screw them. You're too good to get fired. Follow your heart. Do what makes you happy."

Penelope pursed her lips, shrugging again. "Maybe that's the problem. I don't know what makes me happy anymore."

"Well, maybe I can help with that. I've been looking for someone to teach me how to skate."

Penelope pulled back so she was facing him, her eyes wide. "You're kidding, right? You want me to teach you how to ice skate?"

"If you're up for it, sure. Then I'll take you out to dinner, like I promised."

"Yes! I mean, uh, yeah, sure. Sounds good. Hope you brought a jumper, though, because it is freezing in there."

He winked at her. "I always come prepared. So, do we have a deal, Miss Jonas?"

"Deal, Leclerc. Race you to the car?"

"You'll lose."

"Really? We'll see about that."

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