#ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ verse ¬ modern ( band au ) .

[socialseasons]

❝ i swear, if you do that one more time ... ❞ (for Frannie for the modern AU)

At the admonishment, Francesca let out a sigh and leaned back in her seat, arms folded across her chest to suppress the urge to fiddle. She had only been changing the radio station - okay, perhaps she had flicked through the channels a few times - but that was only because there was nothing good to listen to. And Ben certainly wasn't providing her with any worthwhile entertainment.

The song that it had landed on when he'd snapped was an upbeat 80s tune, not so dissimilar from the music her dad's band used to make back in their heyday. Closing her eyes, she found herself humming along to the melody, wishing that they would just hurry up and get there already.

"How much further?" she asked after a minute, cracking open an eye to glance across at the drivers seat.

[socialseasons]

"If you're with us, you're invited." Perhaps it sounded conceited, maybe even a little fantastical, but it was true -- Being a Bridgerton gave you certain leeways in life, including being able to invite anybody to someone else's party and not have it be a problem. "But at least you know it'll be good champagne. It isn't like Charlotte to scrimp on anything of quality."

"Ironically, some people feel trapped because of them. I'm glad to hear your mother isn't one of those dreaded 'mom-agers'...as in, mom managers. Though I guess I'm not much better, because my mom picked out all my clothes until I was eleven."

With a light scoff, Francesca raised her drink slightly in a mock-toast, trying and failing to imagine her mother as Kris Jenner adjacent. "She can be a lot sometimes, but it isn't like she'd make us do anything we didn't want to -- Not like some parents in the industry," she pointed out. "You hear about these mothers that are essentially renting out their kids for clout and I just think... God, I'm so glad my mum actually cares about us as people and not just income."

For a second Francesca thought that maybe she'd crossed a line with the hard truth, but as she turned to look at Ben she found herself relaxing against the head of the couch. "What about your parents? Are they the stuffy type?"

"I accept your terms. And if you're really nice, I might even mail you a baguette -- mostly because I'd love to see how I could get that through the postal service."

That earned a laugh, bright and genuine, as she was met with the mental imagine of Ben shoving a baguette-sized parcel into a post-box. "Oh wow, lucky me," came the responding quip. "Most people would just get a fridge magnet or a little plastic Eiffel Tower. No, yours is much more practical."

The sudden knock at the door cut their conversation short, leading Francesca to automatically get up from her seated position. It wasn't until Ben gave her the order to stay that she even considered that it could be a threat, her brain fighting over whether to be annoyed at his caution or anxious that he was right.

The door opened to reveal the hotel clerk, and Francesca's heart rate slowed immensely as the so-called threat subsided. It was silly to get so caught up in it, really. What was this stalker going to do, pretend to be a pizza deliverer?

"I doubt its poisoned," she replied as Ben made his way back to the sofa, both of them settling back into their respective seats. Before he could offer a response, Francesca had picked up a slice, cheese oozing from the steaming box, and bit straight into it. "You worry far too much."

"A shame. I take it you won't be drinking at the party next weekend then? Not that there's much to drink at these things except champagne."

Ben blinked at that, his brow furrowing in surprise. "I'm invited?" he asked. "I know I'm expected to attend, of course -- I wouldn't be of much use to you cooped up in a hotel room -- but last time I checked, I wasn't on any sort of guest list. Still..." He chuckled, idly swirling his root beer. "I think my Yale days could put you all to shame. I mean, champagne? You might as well be drinking sparkling water...my late grandpa used to call it 'fairy pee.'"

"I have my family," Francesca deflected, "and I don't hate isolation. I just don't like feeling trapped, that's all."

Ben's smile faded a fraction. "Family is important," he agreed. "Ironically, some people feel trapped because of them. I'm glad to hear your mother isn't one of those dreaded 'mom-agers'...as in, mom managers. Though I guess I'm not much better, because my mom picked out all my clothes until I was eleven."

"Babysitting? You mean doing your job?"

She nudged his foot and he laughed, drawing a hand over his chest in mock offense. "I'm sorry, but I'm pretty sure drinking root beer and ordering a pizza isn't part of my job description either."

"Don't let me stop you from going out and seeing the world," she said. "It was Anthony that hired you, not me."

"Now, as much as I complained about this gig, I don't actually want to get fired," Ben replied. "It'd ruin my oh-so-pristine record...if you discount a few minor slip-ups here and there."

An odd glint overcame Francesca's eyes, and then she said, "Fine, if you manage to keep me safe while you're employed here, I'll book you a trip to France."

"If?" he echoed, scoffing. "Well! I'm glad to see your faith in me is unmatched. Still..." He shrugged, tilting his drink in a mock salute. "I accept your terms. And if you're really nice, I might even mail you a baguette -- mostly because I'd love to see how I could get that through the postal service."

Francesca hummed. "I'll give you 'spoiled', but I'm hardly a kid," she warned. "You're on thin ice, Benjamin -- Any other thoughts that you want to get out there?"

"Okay, so lizard person you can laugh off, but kid is where you draw the line? You Bridgertons have some strange limits," he teased. "Even so, I also have limits, and that includes getting fired on my first day...so no, to err on the side of caution, I don't think I'll air out any more thoughts."

A knock came at the door then, and he arched a brow. "Guess your 'hopefully anchovy-less' pizza just arrived...seeing how this is my first test in protecting you, stay right here. I'll make sure it's just the concierge."

Despite his teasing, Ben truly was serious as he rose and headed for the door. With his hand poised near his firearm, should he need it, he squinted through the peephole, then determined that it was, indeed, the hotel clerk from downstairs. Maintaining caution, he opened the door a crack, then accepted the pizza box before practically slamming the door closed again.

"You can never be too careful," Ben explained, shrugging. Returning to Francesca's side, he quipped, "Case and point: the pizza might be poisoned, so I think I'd better be the one to sample each individual slice."

[socialseasons]

"There you are. You're already doing well with the whole 'significant other glare.'"

Despite the urge to continue her glaring, Francesca couldn't help the reluctant smile that graced her features at that, playfully shoving Ben's arm as she carried on with their walking. As loathe as she was to admit it, she was having fun -- Or... as much fun as somebody could be having when they faced imminent danger at every corner.

"Perhaps I was born to be the exasperated girlfriend," she replied, the word feeling strange on her tongue considering she had only met the man a mere few days ago. Still, a teasing glint entered her gaze as she glanced back at him. "Although you make it rather easy."

As soon as Ben's hands rested upon her shoulders, his face leaning closer to her own, Francesca's smile faded, wide eyes blinking back at him uncertainly. Trust. She supposed that she did trust him, in the way that she trusted any of her family's employees to do the job that they were hired for. But this wasn't the job that he had been hired for, not by a long shot.

"I do," she murmured. "Trust you. I am just not certain that I trust myself."

"Now should we keep pretending that you're wholly, madly -- not to mention, understandably in love with me, or did you want to head back to the hotel?"

The exasperation was back tenfold, paired with a grin that Francesca did not even try to hide as her hand slipped easily into his. "One more walk around the block and then we can go back? I'd rather put off facing my brother for a few minutes more."

Ben flashed a lopsided smirk, though it was somewhat frayed around the edges. "If it weren't for transactions being digital nowadays, I would've expected Anthony to stab me with his check-writing pen," he agreed.

Francesca's expression grew decidedly withering. "I am just trying to help."

Despite the gravity of their situation, he grinned. "There you are," he commended. "You're already doing well with the whole 'significant other glare.'"

Visibly, Francesca started to slow down at his side. "Safely," she echoed, caution in her voice. "Are you certain? I don't want anybody to get hurt because of me."

Glancing around them to be certain that no one could overhear, Ben took her shoulders and leaned in closer -- this position both aided in their ruse, and kept all prying ears at bay -- and with an earnest look to his eyes, he reminded her, "There will always be a risk, but I wouldn't have suggested this if I didn't think it was your best option. No matter what happens, I want you to trust me. It is my job to protect you -- to protect everyone in your immediate vicinity."

Gently, he squeezed her shoulders. "Now should we keep pretending that you're wholly, madly -- not to mention, understandably in love with me, or did you want to head back to the hotel?"

Even though Ben was teasing her, there was a note of visible concern in his eyes while he appraised her. What if she wasn't prepared for this? What if she froze when he needed her alert and at the ready?

[socialseasons]

Their ruse had started out feeling far more like a fun little story than it did now, a way to drag the anonymous letter-writer out of hiding whilst also creating a little scandal that her family would find utterly hilarious -- Well, most of them anyway. But now... now it felt more like a danger, as though she were bait being dangled on a hook over a swirling sea of piranhas.

"Brothers are the scariest of them all, don't you know?" she joked, trying to manage an easy smile amidst their dark humour. "If they weren't so busy with their own careers and families, I should likely think that one of them would take up the job of bodyguard themselves."

"Why, are you the jealous type?"

Francesca sent the man beside her a look, nailing him in place with a raised brow. It was not a question that she would answer, for the truth would likely only cause further teasing -- Something which she was practically drowning in at this very moment. "I am just trying to help."

The idea that she was to be targeted at her own show, where her fans were watching and her sisters were right beside her, left Francesca feeling a little queasy. "Safely," she repeated. "Are you certain? I don't want anybody to get hurt because of me."

"Perhaps a bat is taking it a little far, but it is probably best that you avoid him until I've had a chance to explain. He can anger rather easily, especially when it comes to his sisters."

Ben hummed. "I'm not sure if I'm appeased by the 'little' observation, because that means he could still be largely angry. Even so, I guess that's better than what I had planned... Though I might have to hide behind you a few times."

It was a joke, naturally, but the mental image of himself -- the Bridgerton bodyguard -- hiding behind the employer was nearly enough to make him smile. "I never thought my greatest rival would end up being a protective older brother, and yet here we are... I guess that's what I get for not having any sisters."

His quips caused him to miss Francesca's disappointment, the cloud across her face quite palpable. "I mean, I've never had to lure a stalker out of hiding before. I suppose, if it were me, public affection would be most likely to ire them."

"Why, are you the jealous type?" Ben teased. Waving it off, he was quick to reassure, "No, you're not wrong -- I'm the one who suggested it, so naturally I'm going to agree." He offered a lopsided smile. "You're only other option is a large, nation-wide scandal, and I figured you'd much rather go for something far less...invasive."

All at once, Francesca drew to a halt, her wide, crystalline eyes fearfully nailing him in place. "Do you think?" she asked. "Is that... Do you think I ought to cancel? I-I don't know that I can."

"Your fan mail has become more frequent as of late," Ben reminded her, "and so have the threats. It stands to reason that the perp is growing restless, and it's very likely that he'll want to publicly shame you for your rejection." He exhaled. "And now that we are being shown off as a couple? Well... He's definitely not going to keep away. As for canceling, this might be our only real shot at nabbing the guy -- safely."

[socialseasons]

Scrolling through the comments, Francesca let out a sigh, heart hammering in her chest as she let it dawn on her that their plan was out there in the world. There was no turning back now, not when hundreds of people were already outpouring their support for her new relationship. She'd been here before, sure, but usually the guy she was with was also used to such attention. He'd know what he was getting himself in for.

"Anthony," she muttered, Ben's question spurring her back to the present. God, her brother was going to have a fit. "Perhaps a bat is taking it a little far, but it is probably best that you avoid him until I've had a chance to explain. He can anger rather easily, especially when it comes to his sisters."

"Oh no, I definitely want to, I..."

A brow raised at his seeming enthusiasm, a smile beginning to dance across her lips before she could stop herself. However, the continued statement of "I have to" wiped the smile clean away, a grim nod quickly replacing it. "I mean, I've never had to lure a stalker out of hiding before," she replied with a shrug. "I suppose, if it were me, public affection would be most likely to ire them."

"Your upcoming concert is bound to be where they next strike."

The comment raised alarm, brows furrowing as she turned to look at him fully, stopping in the street. "Do you think?" she asked. "Is that... Do you think I ought to cancel? I-I don't know that I can."

"Do you think it'll work?"

Ben hesitated, glancing down at her a moment before redirecting his gaze toward the sidewalk. "Unlike a politician, I don't have to lie to get ahead...and yet, I very much want to lie and say yes." He winced. "I mean, I do think it'll work -- I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't believe we had a good shot of it -- but I'm also a realist. Something could go wrong."

Or several things.

From out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw Francesca peering at her phone, her head bent almost furtively as she scrolled through her notifications.

"All right, tell me the truth: how many people are already saying you deserve better?" he teased.

She gave an exasperated sigh. "Well, there's no going back now. It seems that news really does travel fast."

Ben's smile faded. "Er... Did you already talk with Anthony, or am I going to be met by the chilled kiss of an aluminum baseball bat?"

Francesca looked up at him, her brow creasing in concern. "I'm sure," she said in response to his earlier query. "Why? Are you... do you not want to?"

"Oh no," Ben was quick to reassure, "I definitely want to, I..." Oh. Perhaps eagerness wasn't the best approach. Avoiding her eyes, he concluded, "I have to. It's my job to protect you, but...I need to make sure we're on the same page here. And if public affection is too much, I'd like to know. Or..." He trailed off, squeezing her hand while scanning the area. "Or if you think that sort of thing is best to catch your admirer's attention, then I'll do whatever it takes. We're trying to lure them out of hiding as fast as possible. Your upcoming concert is bound to be where they next strike."

[socialseasons]

Yes, it was rather exhausting to be watched every moment of every day, to be followed and hounded by fans and photographers alike -- And yet Francesca had known no different from the day she was born. There were magazines proclaiming her birth, in fact, photoshoots of a round little baby held to her mother's chest as her father beamed proudly, headlining 'EDMUND BRIDGERTON WELCOMES BABY NUMBER SIX'.

It was difficult to explain to somebody who had never experienced it, but Ben seemed to be taking it in his stride, something that she was immensely grateful for. After all, the very first fan encounter hadn't exactly been the most relaxed.

"I wouldn't say the baseball bat is entirely necessary," she quipped back, yet all words died on her tongue as he kissed her hand. It was a ruse, a game, and he was playing it very well -- So well, in fact, that Francesca felt herself -rather mortifyingly- flushing pink.

"Well...to our credit, I'd say it's only a matter of time before your admirer gets wind of this."

Her admirer. Oh, she'd forgotten all about that.

"Do you think it'll work?" she asked, pulling out her phone and opening up her Instagram. Notifications were already pulling through, comments on new 'dating rumours' easy enough to scroll past before she noticed a new message from Hyacinth -- Great, the news had already reached halfway across the world to her little sister. A thrill of adrenaline rushed through her at the lie. "Well, there's no going back now. It seems that news really does travel fast."

"Are you sure you're ready for what might be coming? I know it's a little late for second thoughts, but...there's still time to claim I'm just an old friend, or even a long-lost cousin or something."

Her gaze lifted to his, brows furrowed with sudden concern. "I'm sure," she confirmed. "Why? Are you... do you not want to?"

Nothing but nice... Yes, Ben supposed this much was true. Although their initial introduction was rocky, and Francesca had struck him as a sulky child, every moment thereafter had been...well...he didn't want to say pleasant, but he would be lying if it wasn't far closer to a delight than an inconvenience. If only all his jobs were this laidback and kind.

As if giving credence to this fact, Francesca all too happily stopped to humor her excitable fan.

The girl was beside herself with glee. Although Ben, himself, had admired various poets and authors over the years, he couldn't quite imagine being so star-struck that he tore at his hair, danced around, and babbled in increasingly deafening decibels to anyone who would listen.

"Not in a band," Francesca informed the girl. "Just a regular guy, right?"

Meeting her gaze, Ben smirked. "Should I be wounded or relieved that you consider me 'regular?' But yes, that's right -- my 'undying love' is the only irregular thing here."

The teen gawped at him a moment, her dark eyes shining as she struggled to process this bit of information, and once Francesca asked if she wanted a picture, Ben thought the poor girl was going to explode.

"Yes, yes, please!" she chirped, bouncing anew.

Amidst their impromptu photoshoot, Ben was relatively surprised when the girl suddenly invited him to join them. Blinking in between Francesca and the fan, he breathed a nervous laugh before awkwardly flanking Francesca's left. He slid an arm around her waist, almost feeling reprehensible for being so free with his faux affections.

That was when the girl pulled away, gleefully showing off her pictures to her tired-looking mother.

With that out of the way, Francesca bade the teen a few friendly parting words, then rejoined Ben with a sheepish smile on her face. "Sometimes the fans can be... intense," she said.

"Hmm, you're telling me," Ben replied. "From dusk until dawn, I have to fight off a hoard of young, ecstatic women with a baseball bat. Fortunately for you..." Here, he reached down and reclaimed her hand, only hesitating a moment before drawing it to his lips. "You're the only one I have no desire to fend off."

This was all a ruse, yes, but for a moment, Ben genuinely debated on apologizing. He shouldn't have kissed her hand -- was it too much? -- and flushing faintly at his potential misstep, he cleared his throat and lowered their hands back in between them as they walked.

"Well...to our credit, I'd say it's only a matter of time before your admirer gets wind of this," Ben said. "That fan of yours was uploading to all her socials the second we left." His gaze steadied upon her with concern. "Are you sure you're ready for what might be coming? I know it's a little late for second thoughts, but...there's still time to claim I'm just an old friend, or even a long-lost cousin or something."

[socialseasons]

It was surprising to Francesca that he seemed surprised by the smoke detector trick, considering that she had grown up in a house with eight children and endless friends coming and going through the doors. It was namely Benedict who had let the trick slip, considering his not-so-secret smoking habit that only Violet was not privy to.

"You never know. I can be rather accident-prone," she admitted with a light grin, squeezing his hand instinctively at the joke. "I am covered in bruises, truly. It wouldn't surprise me if we managed to start a fire out of water."

"Now that I know you're not just some ogre with a keyboard, you've gone from a grotesque thorn in my side to a minor inconvenience."

Lips parting into an offended 'o', Francesca resisted the urge to swipe at him, laughter bubbling on her lips. "And they say that romance is dead," she deadpanned, although the ghost of a smile played against her. "I can be a much bigger inconvenience if you would prefer it -- I have been nothing but nice to you."

That was when she suddenly heard her name being squealed from a near distance, used to the sound by now and yet still startling as though it were the first time. The girl looked to be around thirteen, give or take, her excitement almost overwhelming as she bounded towards them.

"Hi," she grinned, putting on the default expression she saved for her fans -- She loved them, really she did, but it became a practised art to interact with any and all children that came her way.

"Should you break it to her, or shall I?"

Glancing between Ben and the girl, Francesca offered an almost apologetic smile, holding on tightly to his hand as she replied, "Not in a band. Just a regular guy, right?" This was directed to Ben, a brow raised, before her expression became almost conspiratorial as she looked back at her giddy fan. "Do you want a picture?"

The girl was almost beside herself as she nodded, whipping out her phone and holding it out in a selfie pose as Francesca smiled for the camera. After a couple of shots, the younger gestured for Ben to join them, no doubt eager to post that she'd met Francesca Bridgerton's boyfriend.

After signing an autograph and letting her know how wonderful it was to meet her, Francesca and Ben were finally back on their walk, an apology on her lips. "Sometimes the fans can be... intense."

"At least you got to attend prom," Francesca volleyed.

"Oh, yes. Lucky me," Ben deadpanned, though he was smiling. "You really missed out with all the cheap decorations and painfully cliché themes. For instance, our prom's theme was Bohemian Rhapsody...except instead of it being inspired by the song, the girls all interpreted it as bohemian fashion. I'd never been more insulted in my life."

Unsurprisingly, Francesca seemed incredulous by his DIY suggestion. "It is like you're trying to get me into trouble," she accused, but without any true bite. "My brother taught me how to disable a smoke detector -- We'll be safe enough."

"Wait, what?" Sparing her an incredulous look, Ben bit back a laugh at how astoundingly innocent she looked with her wide, fawn-like eyes. "Next, you're going to tell me you know how to hotwire a car... In other words, I'll believe it when I see it." He held up a finger. "But for the record, I definitely don't recommend the whole smoke detector trick. At least my volcano experiment won't erupt into flames or smoke."

Francesca held fast to his hand, even adding to the ruse by leaning in toward his shoulder. A prickle of nervous heat flared up beneath Ben's collar, and he tried not to instinctively flush nor retreat when she peered up at him beneath her long, dark lashes.

"All right." She offered him a challenging look. "You simply need to pretend that you are enjoying my company. I hope that won't be too difficult for you?"

Ben snorted. "If you'd asked me that yesterday morning, I think I might've tendered my resignation or jumped into the Long Island Sound...whichever option would've been faster and more convenient." Here, his smile grew lopsided. "But yes, I think I can pretend to like you. Now that I know you're not just some ogre with a keyboard, you've gone from a grotesque thorn in my side to a minor inconvenience."

He stepped from the sidewalk and into the street, feeling as though he were taking a literal plunge as he and Francesca trekked into the fray. All at once, a young girl started squealing in delight and yanking on her mother's arm. The woman appeared tired and worn down, but allowed herself to be pulled towards the soon-to-be-victimized couple.

"Francesca Bridgerton?" the girl shrieked. She grinned, showing off a row of flashy braces. "Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, you are my favorite! Your clothes are so cute and your hair is so pretty! Can I touch it?"

Ben blinked between the girl and her wearily apologetic-looking mother, offering a leery smile. "Don't make me say the classic, 'I don't know, can you?' grammatical joke," he quipped.

The girl peeled her eyes from Francesca, if only for a moment. Quickly, her young mind seemed to tally up the possibilities, and then she looked back to Francesca with a gasp. "Is this your boyfriend?" she asked. "Don't celebrities only date other celebrities? Who is he?" She started bouncing on the soles of her feet. "Is he in a band, too? Which one, which one? I want to post about it first!"

Ben nearly laughed, biting back a snort. "Should you break it to her, or shall I?" he whispered to Francesca from the side of his mouth.

[socialseasons]

Francesca pulled a face at Ben's photoshop quip, knowing far too well that technology had advanced at the worst possible time in her life. People were so desperate for gossip, for a story, that they were willing to make one up -- Maybe if she hadn't been thrust into the spotlight herself she would understand, but it truly seemed rather... invasive.

"At least you got to attend prom," she pointed out, although there wasn't even a small part of her that was jealous of such an event. Some of her friends back home had gone to their proms, dressed up to the nines on the arm of their high school sweetheart, but that just wasn't her.

"All right, well here's what we'll do: at some point, I'll go to a 7-11 and buy us the ingredients...and then we'll pray we don't get kicked out of our hotel for setting off our very own personal experiment."

His words roused a laugh from Francesca, fixing him with a challenging glance as he nudged her. "It is like you're trying to get me into trouble," she grinned, but with a light nudge back her voice lowered. "My brother taught me how to disable a smoke detector -- We'll be safe enough."

Still, her grin faltered a moment as Ben reached for her hand, swallowing down whatever words she intended to say next. Blue eyes rested on their entwinement, a firm resolution in her pressed lips as she offered a light squeeze in return. If they were to pretend to be together, happily together, Francesca was going to have to put on her acting cap once more.

"All right." She leaned closer into him, aware that they were about to walk through a busier part of town, their audience awaiting. "You simply need to pretend that you are enjoying my company. I hope that won't be too difficult for you?"

"The photos of 'dates' I've been on in the magazines have either been me out with a friend, or for publicity."

Ben snorted. "Photoshopped too, I'm afraid. I've seen you spliced with quite a few of actors, ranging from Keanu Reeves to that one kid from some boy band...don't ask me which one, because I don't know, nor do I care to. I relish in having culturally irrelevant tastes."

Francesca hummed. "I 'dated' an actor last year because we were recording a song in his movie, so it made sense for advertising. But..." She laughed, a faint pink in her cheeks. "God, I really, really didn't like him."

Ben grinned. "Fortunately for you, I'm sure it's yet another modern pop culture icon who I have absolutely no idea exists. I confess to only knowing about your existence because it's my job to research our clients." He shrugged. "Still, is 'fake dating' a guy you loathe really worse than having to attend senior prom with your cousin? 'Cause that was me."

Francesca went silent for a moment, appearing genuinely befuddled. "I've never made an exploding volcano," she admitted. "I thought that was something they only did in films."

"Really?" With an incredulous grin, Ben nudged her. "All right, well here's what we'll do: at some point, I'll go to a 7-11 and buy us the ingredients...and then we'll pray we don't get kicked out of our hotel for setting off our very own personal experiment."

Finally seeming to note his unease, Francesca's expression softened and she promised, "You don't have to do this. I won't be angry if you want to stop."

"No, no, uh..." Ben hesitated, appraising the giggling girls across the street. "It's just, I'm used to being here and unnoticed, so it's an odd shift." In an effort at reaffirming his commitment, he reached down and took her hand, offering a threadbare smile. "Sorry. Despite all my jokes, hopefully I won't entrap you with palm sweat. I just assumed...well...that the ruse would be better this way."

[socialseasons]

Shaking her head, Francesca could only offer a fairly sheepish smile at his assumption, knowing that the rumour mill had likely churned out any number of lies about her dating life. It wasn't as though she'd never been asked before, but there was just never anybody who seemed... worth it. Worth the stress of trying to juggle a dating life alongside the daily struggle of her own life.

"The photos of 'dates' I've been on in the magazines have either been me out with a friend, or for publicity." It felt strange to say it, to admit it. "I 'dated' an actor last year because we were recording a song in his movie, so it made sense for advertising. But..." She laughed, cheeks flushing a little as she lowered her voice. "God, I really, really didn't like him."

"Do you mean to tell me you never enjoyed experiments? Not even the exploding volcano?"

Raising a brow, Francesca wished that she could offer some sort of witty retort back to him. And yet she could only, once again, provide an admittance. "I've never made an exploding volcano. I thought that was something they only did in films."

Through her laughter at his quips, she could feel Ben's attention being drawn away from her, following his gaze towards the giggling girls across the street. It was second nature to be watched, whether Francesca liked it or not, but she felt a stab of guilt at the thought of subjecting somebody else to it.

"You don't have to do this," she reminded him softly. "I won't be angry if you want to stop."

"Not even. I fear I have not been a real date before," Francesca admitted. "Not one that hasn't been orchestrated anyway. I suppose this is no different, in a way -- It just so happens that I am the one orchestrating it."

Ben nearly came to a stop. "Never?" he asked, arching a brow in disbelief. "Of course, I was as late of a bloomer as they come. I think I always assumed celebrities had it different though...that beaus and belles just came with the territory." Wincing, he muttered, "I think I just further proved why I was a late bloomer. I've been told I sometimes talk like an Austen hero, but without the charm."

"Not that I've seen," Francesca reassured. "It's only that I enjoy history. I'm not hugely well versed in it but its fascinating, isn't it? Although I'm afraid my science is rather lacking -- I was far more into the arts."

Ben smiled. "Ah. And here I was, thinking you were buttering me up so you could make a run for it. I'm not hugely well-versed beyond war and medical history, I'll admit, but I still find a good story fascinating. As for science..." Here, he spared her an impish smile. "Do you mean to tell me you never enjoyed experiments? Not even the exploding volcano?"

"Fears?" She regarded him curiously a moment, then admitted, "There is a photo of me as a child - I must have only been two or three - with a clown on my birthday. I am absolutely screaming the place down. I suppose that has followed me into adulthood -- I have no desire to go to the circus."

Unable to help it, Ben laughed, his eyes crinkling warmly around the edges. "Just so you know, my superior is a clown -- don't tell him I said that -- but fortunately for you, I think he has a strict 'no party' policy." Humming, he added, "Hopefully, there won't be any Pierrot art exhibits anywhere. I'd hate to have to peel you off the walls."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two teenage girls whispering and pointing, so with a stab of panic in his chest, Ben took Francesca by the arm and steered her toward the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. He knew the idea was to attract attention, and yet he had to admit it was conflicting with his natural inclination to protect and conceal.

[socialseasons]

"Not even a supervised trip to the recording studio?"

Francesca tried to smile but the action turned into more of a grimace, lips pressed together a moment as she pictured her last 'date' -- If you could call it as such. "Not even. I fear I have not been a real date before." Not that the magazines could know that. "Not one that hasn't been orchestrated anyway. I suppose this is no different, in a way -- It just so happens that I am the one orchestrating it."

Perhaps for Daphne, such ruses were a bit of fun before she met her husband. Eloise, the stubborn woman she was, refused to even partake. But Francesca loathed those dates with men she hardly knew, parading around as though they were deeply in love when in reality they were usually complete idiots.

At least this date was starting out with something akin to friendship.

"Did your brother have a profile written up on me? I might've already mentioned being a fan of history, but then again, that is low-hanging fruit...people always assume men like history and science."

"Not that I've seen," she said, laughter on her lips. "Its only that I enjoy history. I'm not hugely well versed in it but its fascinating, isn't it? Although I'm afraid my science is rather lacking -- I was far more into the arts."

She could imagine the scene: A little boy with wide eyes and a terrified air posing before a gigantic skeleton. There had been a fair share of those photos in the Bridgerton family albums, what with eight children and a whole host of events they were required to attend.

"Fears?" Francesca considered, lips pursing as she tried to recall anything she considered herself afraid of. Anything that would be superficial enough to share with a relative stranger, that is. "There is a photo of me as a child - I must have only been two or three - with a clown on my birthday. I am absolutely screaming the place down." With a chuckle, she shook her head. "I suppose that has followed me into adulthood -- I have no desire to go to the circus."

Francesca laughed, the sound so breezy that Ben felt a modicum of tension lower from his shoulders. "My inability to grasp human social customs isn't that funny, is it?" Grinning, he explained, "Cats and dogs, I get: all they do is groom each other and sniff. But people? Well...some of these encounters are worse than death."

Fortunately, Francesca seemed equally clueless. "I couldn't say," she replied. "I haven't been on a date in a while -- Not a real one, anyway."

Ben flashed her a skeptical smile. "Really?" he asked, raising a brow. "Not even a supervised trip to the recording studio?"

Francesca grinned. "Although if this is a ploy to hold my hand, you only need to ask."

He scoffed, a faint pink nipping at his cheeks. "Would this be a bad time to say my palms sweat when I'm nervous? I don't think you want to risk it..." Stepping over the threshold, Ben briefly squinted against the bright assault from the overhanging sun, holding up his hand to shade his vision.

"Ice cream? Now that sounds like fun." Francesca looked at him with an incline of her head. "Perhaps a history museum?"

His mouth quirked into a suspicious little smile. "Did your brother have a profile written up on me?" Ben teased. "I might've already mentioned being a fan of history, but then again, that is low-hanging fruit...people always assume men like history and science." He grinned. "I can't help that in my case, it's all completely true."

Despite Francesca not being dressed in flashy clothing, Ben swore he could already see some invasive stares raking them over with curious intrigue. He quickened his pace. "The American Museum of Natural History is the most famous," he offered, "so we can try there first? There's actually a picture of me out there somewhere as a boy, looking completely terrified while standing in front of a T-Rex skeleton." He chuckled at the memory. "I recall being afraid it was going to come to life and eat me while I posed...my imagination back then was too wild to be tamed. How about you?" He nudged her. "Have any irrational fears that can contend with being eaten alive by a big, scary dinosaur skeleton?"

[socialseasons]

Although they were not embarking on a real date, Francesca felt her chest tighten as they headed towards the exit, butterflies in her stomach as though she needed to impress. She had never been one to enjoy dating, unsure of how to navigate conversations in such early stages of affection, yet despite the fact that it was all for the cameras, she found herself... nervous.

"What do people even do on dates anymore, anyway? Is holding hands still acceptable, or do you have to take selfies instead?"

A soft laugh escaping her lips at his joke, her shoulders rose and fell into a shrug. "I suppose both?" she suggested, truly showing how little she knew about the world of dating. "I couldn't say. I haven't been on a date in a while -- Not a real one, anyway." Pause. A grin. "Although if this is a ploy to hold my hand, you only need to ask."

It wasn't until they reached the entrance doors that Francesca felt her first real moment of apprehension, knowing that the moment they were seen outside there would be no going back. She had grown used to such a life, yes, but it did not mean that she enjoyed it.

"Ice cream? Now that sounds like fun." Still, she pondered, thinking back on the book of New York that she had flipped through at the airport. This was, perhaps, one of the only times in her life where she let herself consider what she wished to do. "Perhaps a history museum?"

"I'll deal with him. I think once he realises that the end goal justifies the means, he'll be all right with it. Well, as all right as Anthony can get."

Ben snorted. "Thanks for the clarification," he quipped. "Still, you're not entirely wrong...and if you want to be the one to poke that proverbial bear, then more power to you. I'll just keep standing over here at a safe distance."

At his query, Francesca thought a moment, then almost shyly offered, "I like museums. Maybe we should try somewhere more public first, like Central Park. And then... well, you're the expert."

An awkward silence filled the air. It occurred to Ben that even though this was a fabrication, it was the first time he'd attempted a date in...well...several years. After his brother's unexpected passing, he hadn't been keen on socialization (not that he ever overly had been), and the result had been seclusion and throwing himself headlong into his work.

"Uh...I wouldn't say I'm an expert," Ben deflected. "I just live in the area." Wrinkling his nose, he added, "What do people even do on dates anymore, anyway? Is holding hands still acceptable, or do you have to take selfies instead?"

Although the queries were mostly said in jest, Ben genuinely was curious if there were any new social faux pas of which he was blissfully unaware.

The elevator doors opened, and eyes darting in between Francesca and the lobby, a prickle of nervous agitation flared up beneath his collar before he swung his arm in an "after you" gesture. "Central Park works," he agreed. "There's a zoo, carriage rides, and Belvedere Castle, to name a few things. Though careful now: just because you're pop royalty doesn't mean they'll let you take over." Allowing a smirk to lift the corner of his mouth, he followed her toward the automatic doors. "In terms of museums, could you be more specific? There are way, way, way too many to name, and they cover just about every topic you could think of." He grinned. "Hell, there's even a museum dedicated to ice cream. I'm turning diabetic just thinking about it."

[socialseasons]

As much as Francesca adored her sisters, their constant close proximity sometimes left her feeling as though she needed a break, a moment to herself to actually relax. She supposed that was why she preferred to spend her free evenings in her hotel room -- A good movie, some room-service, and her own company for once.

Yet she found that she was quite looking forward to their day out, despite the fact that it broke into her previously scheduled 'do-nothing time'. As Ben headed towards the lift, Francesca shrugged at the mention of her brother, hiding her own anxious thoughts on the matter.

"I'll deal with him," she promised, not wanting to cause Ben any more headaches than was necessary - This entire plan was going to be more than enough for him. "I think once he realises that the end goal justifies the means, he'll be all right with it. Well, as all right as Anthony can get."

They would just have to avoid him for the day. Which shouldn't be massively difficult, considering they had the entirety of New York City at their disposal. Francesca only worried that once news broke out that they had been seen together, the eldest Bridgerton would meet them in the hotel lobby with a face like thunder.

Oh, the joys of brothers.

"I like museums," she replied, suddenly feeling rather self-conscious. With a small smile, she glanced up at Ben. "Maybe we should try somewhere more public first, like Central Park. And then... well, you're the expert."

The Bridgerton sisters oozed out of the room like a colorful school of fish -- or rather, Daphne and Eloise were vibrant and flashy -- and bemused, Ben tried not to smirk as the aforementioned immediately latched onto Francesca, interrogating her with question after question.

"Wow," he near dead-panned. "Are you sure you two should be in showbiz? 'Cause given your Twenty Questions spiel, you'd be pretty great with the whole good cop, bad cop routine."

Daphne appeared a little startled by his quip -- perhaps he should've kept his big mouth shut -- but it was Eloise who seemed the most ruffled. Evidently, she was the more protective and practical of the sisters, and she proved this by pointing out Anthony's likely displeasure.

Oh. Anthony. How in God's name had he dismissed the possibility of that raging hornet's nest? Paling a bit at the thought, he only came back to himself when Francesca all but glued herself to his flank.

"Lead the way, tour guide," she entreated.

"Consider yourself led," Ben agreed. Offering the other women a two-fingered wave, he added, "Enjoy yourselves, ladies. Maybe we'll bring you back a cheesy souvenir."

Once they were on the elevator, he sighed and pressed the button leading to the lobby. "I'll admit it: I didn't think about your brother," Ben said. "So long as we smooth things over before my teeth get knocked out, this should be fine..." He paused, his mouth twisting in thought. "Then again, that kind of unbridled rage could play in to the ruse, so I'm willing to push things to a certain degree...just preferably a degree that doesn't end in homicide."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ben added, "So, uh...where did you want to go? I know you mentioned museums and art, but I don't want to be presumptuous." He smiled. "Well, for once I'm trying not to be, anyway."

[socialseasons]

"I have no real knowledge of your musical prowess, but I imagine you'd be an excellent instructor. It takes both patience and compassion, and thus far you've exhibited both -- especially after I called you a spoiled princess."

Despite the smile that laced Francesca's features as he spoke, his tail-end comment elicited mock-outrage, lips parted in shock as a mischievous glint entered her eye. "Oh, you did?" she asked, a challenge hidden behind every word. "If you want spoiled, I am happy to oblige -- I could make your job a lot more difficult."

She wouldn't, of course; It wasn't within her nature to be difficult on purpose without good reason. Still, she wasn't certain if his quip stung or not, trying not to hone in on the details too much -- After all, she had heard far worse from the press so why did she care so much about the opinion of a relative stranger?

"Ashamed of me already? Though no, I completely agree -- the less people who're aware, the better. That'll make it all the easier to fool the rest of the world, and thus, the potential perp."

Nodding in agreement, Francesca decided to omit the part where her eldest brother would see red at their alleged affair, intent on making sure that Ben would not set foot near his sister again. That would come later. Much later, when she was able to explain the plan to him in excruciating detail.

"'Night then," she replied, stretching out as he stood up from the couch, intent on staying up a little longer. It would be an early start, but Francesca found herself rather looking forward to the day ahead.

--

The morning rushed by, the meeting a complete blur as she found herself continuously fascinated by the view from the window rather than the words that came from the executive's mouth. Luckily her sisters did most of the talking, allowing Francesca to blend into the background until the clock hit two-pm.

Spilling out of the meeting room, she felt strangely relieved when she caught sight of Ben waiting for her, greeting him with a grin as he approached.

"Are you ready to go? I took the liberty of having someone drive out your wardrobe, because...well...I was bored. And I really don't feel like driving back to the hotel."

"Lifesaver," she replied with a sigh, glad that they didn't have an extra leg of their journey to worry about. "Thank you."

Her sisters, however, did not intend on letting them get away without any prodding. "Where are you heading off to?" Daphne asked casually, although her eyes betrayed the curiosity that she tried to hide.

"Just out," Francesca replied. "Ben's going to show me around the city -- Sightseeing, like a real tourist."

"And you've told Anthony about this?" the eldest responded, at the same time as Eloise scrunched her nose and repeated, "Sightseeing?"

A beat. Francesca ignored Daphne's question, instead raising a brow at Eloise who looked entirely unconvinced. "Is that all right with you?" she asked, sarcastic as ever.

Instead of responding, the middle Bridgerton simply looked at them with a raised brow and tight-lipped smile, eyes darting between her sister and the man beside her. "Good luck with that," she retorted. "Those people are absolute vultures."

"Eloise!"

"We'll be fine." Francesca turned to Ben, a desperation in her eyes as she glanced towards the lifts -- Lets get out of here. "Lead the way, tour guide."

"You should do it."

Ben lifted his head in surprise.

"If that's what you want to do, why not? Life's too short otherwise," she insisted. "You know, I used to have a music teacher when I was little - She'd come over and we'd spend the afternoon playing piano and violin. I always thought I'd love to do that -- Either that, or looking after little ones. Nursery or pre-school, when they're learning to read and write."

Unbidden, a soft smile touched Ben's mouth at the thought of a smaller, bouncier version of Francesca standing before him, poised with a violin while her teacher accompanied on the piano.

"They say it's always best to get them young," Ben agreed. "If you're from a family of musicians, I suspect you were ejected from the womb with a miniature bow and violin in hand. A piano, on the other hand, might've been a bit harder on your mother to pass." Chuckling, he lifted his eyes again. "I have no real knowledge of your musical prowess, but I imagine you'd be an excellent instructor. It takes both patience and compassion, and thus far you've exhibited both -- especially after I called you a spoiled princess."

Or had he only said that in his head?

Francesca beamed. "We're in a meeting until lunchtime, and then I want to come back and change - So let's say two o'clock?" she suggested. When Ben nodded, she confirmed, "Its a date, then. Though maybe we should hold off on telling Anthony about the plan... or anyone else, for that matter."

Ben snorted, though he was smiling. "Ashamed of me already? Though no, I completely agree -- the less people who're aware, the better. That'll make it all the easier to fool the rest of the world, and thus, the potential perp." Grabbing a piece of pizza from the box, he rose and flashed a lopsided smile. "Guess I'll take this 'to-go.' I'm sure I can find something to preoccupy my time until two."

--

Unfortunately, Ben's "occupied time" required him to stay abreast of Francesca, but without actually being present for any of her meetings and practices. This meant he was tasked to furtively blend in along the outskirts, choosing to loiter or read, but never too far away from where the Bridgertons were gathered.

Despite barely focusing, Ben kept one eye on a book and the other on the unoccupied hallway. Just when he was about ready to test the acoustics to entertain himself, the door down the corridor opened, and Francesca and her sisters came spilling out through the door.

Checking to make certain that the hall was still clear, Ben gratefully pocketed his book and approached with an arched brow. "Top secret musician meeting?" he quipped. "When I was asked to guard you all, I didn't realize that protecting you would be like protecting the pope." He chuckled. "Are you ready to go? I took the liberty of having someone drive out your wardrobe, because...well...I was bored. And I really don't feel like driving back to the hotel."

[socialseasons]

"Well, as tempting as it is to go running and screaming in the opposite direction, I'm intent on getting more free pizza out of this deal. So in other words, until the perks stop, I'll be your ever-present shadow."

"If that's all it takes to buy your loyalty, I think we'll be fine." Having reached her limit on pizza slices, Francesca nudged the box towards Ben in a silent offer - After all, why let it go to waste? "I'm not sure I'll ever get used to the portion sizes over here, so I can guarantee you'll be getting a lot of free food if we hang out."

Not that she was one-hundred percent sure how long they were to be joined at the hip. She had asked Anthony when he brought up the situation, but he had just spiralled on about her safety and how it didn't matter how long it needed to go on for, and so on and so forth. They were expected to stay here in New York for a few weeks -- Would Ben be a constant the entire time? Was he expected to come back home with her? Or was there another stranger waiting at Heathrow Airport to take his place, as though she were a child being escorted from one place to another?

Yet as he leaned forward and began to speak again, Francesca found herself edging forwards, head tilted as she locked his gaze, holding onto every word. To hear that he wished to be a teacher really shone a different light on her perception, softer and far more endeared.

"You should do it," she replied after a pause. "If that's what you want to do, why not? Life's too short otherwise." It would be easy for him, surely -- People changed their professions every day, didn't they? "You know, I used to have a music teacher when I was little - She'd come over and we'd spend the afternoon playing piano and violin. I always thought I'd love to do that -- Either that, or looking after little ones. Nursery or pre-school, when they're learning to read and write."

"So long as they only get my good side, I guess I could be amenable. When should I pick you up? Not that I'll be too far away, or anything. Neighbor."

Mirroring his grin, Francesca nodded, a conspiratorial glint in her eye. "We're in a meeting until lunchtime, and then I want to come back and change - So let's say two o'clock?" she suggested. "Its a date, then. Though maybe we should hold off on telling Anthony about the plan... or anyone else, for that matter."

"If your brother doesn't go to massive lengths to get rid of you when you're being annoying, is he truly your brother?"

Ben grinned. "So long as those attempts don't delve into homicide, then I'm inclined to agree...though I was a toddler. It wasn't like I was reciting Shakespeare." He paused for dramatic effect, then wryly concluded, "Not yet, anyway."

Francesca scoffed. "That's not the intention. I was thinking more along the lines of you quitting and running for the hills -- If not because of me, then my brother."

Ben hummed. "Well, as tempting as it is to go running and screaming in the opposite direction, I'm intent on getting more free pizza out of this deal. So in other words, until the perks stop, I'll be your ever-present shadow."

He was joking, of course; or rather, about the free perks. He did intend to stick uncomfortably close, if only to ensure no one was able to worm into her personal space.

Surprisingly, Francesca perked up at his admission. "Really?" she asked. "I guess I could see that. So why aren't you? Working in teaching, that is. I think I would've liked teaching if I didn't go into music -- The kids I meet at my shows are always the sweetest."

A wistful look overcame his face, and with a lopsided smile, Ben admitted, "That surprises me...I didn't think that'd be your M.O. But then again, you're clearly surprised by my fondness for kids and teaching, so I'll go ahead and give the much-needed 'touché' on both of our accounts." Shoulders hunching, he leaned forward and pressed his palms together, balancing his elbows on either knee. "Long story short? I felt I could make a bigger impact with the CIA," he replied. "Instead, I got too overzealous and endangered a lot of people...got suspended for a bit, and then reassigned." He waved his hands. "And now here I am." A shadow eclipsed his gaze, though he still maintained his smile -- an expression of warmth that never quite reached his eyes. "If I could do it over, I'd be teaching fifth grade history to a bunch of wide-eyed, exuberant little boys and girls...the brattier the better, because in my experience, those are the kids who need you most."

Francesca faltered for a moment -- whether at a misstep or her own uncertainty, he couldn't be sure. "Fine," she finally replied. "I have a free afternoon tomorrow. Let's say we go out: Walk in the park, grab some food, pose for some photos..." She paused. "You sure you want to?"

"Do I want to?" Ben echoed, unable to keep from sneering. "Worst case scenario, I become famous too. Best case scenario, I really chap the hides of some of the less than savory people I went to school with. A part of me likes those odds...but photos?" He hummed, pretending to mull it over. "So long as they only get my good side, I guess I could be amenable. When should I pick you up?" With a soft laugh, he added, "Not that I'll be too far away, or anything. Neighbor."

[socialseasons]

It didn't take a genius to see that Ben cared deeply for his brother, the loss weighing heavy even in the way he spoke his name, the uttered memory a beacon of sunlight amidst a grey topic. Francesca couldn't begin to try to relate to the pain. She may have known grief, having lost her father, but it was different when she only had a select few memories of him -- Even now, she wondered if such memories were real or merely one of the hundreds of stories she had been told over the years.

"If your brother doesn't go to massive lengths to get rid of you when you're being annoying, is he truly your brother?" she grinned, relaxing back into the conversation as they passed over the cloud of grief. As much as she wished to know more, it was safer to leave certain topics -- Prying was never a good look.

"Are you planning on having me taken out, or something? And not in the romantic sense..."

Scoffing, Francesca shook her head. "That's not the intention. I was thinking more along the lines of you quitting and running for the hills -- If not because of me, then my brother."

"I also wanted to be a teacher. If kids aren't being noisy and excitable, then I don't think I did my job right."

A teacher. Perking up at that, a grin spread across her lips as she imagined a classroom full of little ones, paint spatters and scribbled drawings galore. "Really? I guess I could see that," she replied, pensive as she looked at him - Properly looked. "So why aren't you? Working in teaching, that is. I think I would've liked teaching if I didn't go into music -- The kids I meet at my shows are always the sweetest."

"It's worth it to your family. You're a good person caught up in a bad situation. And if I can help...then I'm going to. Whether you like it or not."

Whatever she had expected his answer to be, it certainly had not been that, a silence crossing her as she tried to find the right balance of gratitude in her response. Instead she only smiled, nodded. "Fine," she finally replied. "I have a free afternoon tomorrow. Let's say we go out: Walk in the park, grab some food, pose for some photos..." Pause. "You sure you want to?"

"What was their name?"

Ben smiled, a glimmer of pride shining within his eyes at the thought of his older brother. He was always proud of him -- his convictions, his talents, his impish way of making everything just feel okay -- and absently rapping his knuckles against the arm of his chair, Ben lifted his head again before offering, "Samuel -- or Sam, as he was mostly known. Growing up, where he went, I was sure to follow." His grin widened. "I don't remember this, but apparently when I was three, Sam got sick of me following him around, so he stuck a hose inside my diaper and filled it with water, hoping that the distraction would allow him to escape. No such luck."

Francesca was quiet for a short while. Ben was accustomed to discomfort -- people never knew what to do or say -- and yet he wasn't resentful. No, he rather appreciated that she asked, because that was far more than what most ever offered.

"Well, if you're around long enough then I'm sure you'll see a the Bridgertons in action," she announced.

"If?" Ben echoed, raising a brow. "Are you planning on having me taken out, or something? And not in the romantic sense..." Chuckling, he assured her, "I intend to be here for the long haul. I didn't drive out all this way just to turn back around."

It wasn't a long drive at all, but Francesca didn't need to know that.

"Family dinners are known to be loud and chaotic, so I would understand if you decided to quit upon receiving an invitation to one," she continued.

Ben hummed. "You seem to think that growing up in a household full of boys would be any different. I can assure you, it was not, even with just the two of us." Draping his arm over the back of his chair, he added, "I also wanted to be a teacher. If kids aren't being noisy and excitable, then I don't think I did my job right."

A hint of amusement traversed Francesca's eyes. "I'm not doubting my abilities as a fake girlfriend," she said. "But you said it yourself - You hate attention. And there would be a lot of it."

Ben paused, finally understanding what she'd been alluding to. "I'm aware of this, yes."

"Your picture would be everywhere, people would be talking about you, speculating and making up rumours. It sounds stupid and shallow, I know, but..." She paused. "To do all that just for the chance of maybe catching this guy, is it worth it?"

Ben's features melded into something softer, more pensive. "It's worth it to your family," he lowly pointed out. "You're a good person caught up in a bad situation. And if I can help...then I'm going to." He nudged her with his foot. "Whether you like it or not."

[socialseasons]

The slight shift in Ben's demeanour earned confusion on Francesca's part, until the uttered "I was the oldest" slammed into her chest akin to a high speed crash. Lips parted as she tried to think of something to say, fingers twitching to reach out and lay a supportive hand on his arm -- She didn't though, staying exactly where she was against her whims. She had lived through grief. She knew how terrible it felt to have the pity parade suddenly thrust upon you.

Instead she nodded, a smile of understanding as she asked, "What was their name?"

She couldn't imagine losing one of her siblings, the thought of it no different than the idea of losing an arm or a leg. They were pains in the backside most of the time, absolute terrors, but she would have laid down her life for any one of them. And... God, she'd been talking about how annoyingly perfect her family was -- What on earth did he think of her?

"Well, if you're around long enough then I'm sure you'll see a the Bridgertons in action," she promised - or more likely, threatened. "Family dinners are known to be loud and chaotic, so I would understand if you decided to quit upon receiving an invitation to one."

"In what way? It isn't like we'd have to do anything to be convincing... Everyone thought you were dating Keanu Reeves, remember? You two never even met, so just think how easy it'll be if I'm literally trailing your every move."

He was right. That wasn't the issue.

"I'm not doubting my abilities as a fake girlfriend," she assured, a glint of mirth in her gaze. "But you said it yourself - You hate attention. And there would be a lot of it." She paused, a seriousness taking over as her voice lowered. "Your picture would be everywhere, people would be talking about you, speculating and making up rumours. It sounds stupid and shallow, I know, but..." Another pause. "To do all that just for the chance of maybe catching this guy, is it worth it?"

"Are you the oldest?"

Ben stiffened, however slight. He couldn't help it. No matter how many times he reminded himself that Samuel was gone -- dead -- it always took him a moment to re-adjust, still content to believe his brother was only a phone call away.

"Yeah," he softly said. "I was the oldest."

"I feel like it's different for the younger kids," Francesca continued. "I was constantly following my older sisters around when we were little. Even though we didn't share rooms, we were always in the same space...but then when my younger sister tried to go everywhere with me, it just got annoying."

The smile Ben offered was threadbare. "Sounds like heaven to me -- in a claustrophobic, oppressive sort of way."

Francesca paused. "We were close though -- We are close. Sometimes people look at me like I'm crazy because I actually like to hang out with my family. Most of the time."

Unable to help it, he grinned. "We love our families, but sometimes it's hard to like them," he agreed, "but for what it's worth, I don't think you're crazy. To be honest, it's rare to hear about celebrity families who truly, genuinely care about each other, and aren't overwrought with resentment and jealousy. You should treasure it." Smile fading, he shrugged. "Before you know it, you'll blink and everything will have changed. Life's too short."

Far too short.

To hear that Francesca echoed his sentiments was unsurprising, given her love of family, and intrigued, he listened while she said, "I just think that the person you fall in love with should be your best friend. As long as you laugh at each other's dumb jokes and want to be with them throughout all the big life events, what else really matters?"

"The Dumb to my Dumber," Ben agreed, chuckling. "Though I'm sorry, perhaps you'd prefer a music-themed analogy? The Stevie to your Nicks?" Waving a hand, he reminded her, "Forgive me, but I still don't know all that much about your favorite artist. Feel free to stone me in the morning."

Slowly, the good cheer sapped from the room, and Francesca shifted with visible discomfort. "Do you think it could work?"

Ben nodded. "I'm not trying to sound like a Hallmark card here, but anything's possible if you believe -- and I mean that in a 'mind over matter' sort of way. It's been proven that positivity leads to better results."

Francesca was quick to shake her head. "No. No, I couldn't ask you to do that -- You'd have no idea what you're letting yourself in for."

He arched a brow. "In what way? It isn't like we'd have to do anything to be convincing... Everyone thought you were dating Keanu Reeves, remember? You two never even met, so just think how easy it'll be if I'm literally trailing your every move."