Cringe Act

~* On the Way to the Location *~

~~ In Benedict's Car ~~

The city streets unfolded like a labyrinth ahead, the rhythmic hum of the car's engine weaving a melodic backdrop to the intrigue playing out within its confines.

Benedict, his gaze unwavering on the road, shattered the silence with a declaration, "You have to embody a Foreign A-list Actress. Your name will be Penelope Hart, you need to use your mother's name. Peony, you can do it, right?"

Peony, with a surprise, offered a subtle nod, a mixture of apprehension and determination etched across her features. "Penelope Hart, A-list Actress," she murmured, testing the alias as it rolled off her tongue.

Benedict's grin held a hint of conspiracy, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Perfect. Remember, you're on a covert mission. Act natural, blend in, and we'll find your mother."

Peony locked eyes with him, her resolve shining through any lingering doubts. "I'll do whatever it takes to meet her."

As the air thickened with purpose, an unexpected interruption chimed in—the melody of Peony's phone, an unknown number glowing on the screen.

"Who is calling me now?" Peony mused aloud.

Benedict, with a touch of caution, offered advice, "Don't pick up calls from unknown numbers."

"Did you just eavesdrop on my call?"

"I was merely stating. And you should unblock my number," Benedict continued, his demeanour oscillating between cheekiness and sincerity.

Peony arched an incredulous eyebrow. "How do you know I blocked your number?"

"I have my ways," Benedict replied with a sly wink.

"And you didn't tell me how you coincidentally arrived at that time to save me," Peony probed, her curiosity tinged with a subtle scepticism.

"I have my ways," Benedict replied, his tone carrying the weight of secrecy and purpose.

"I have my ways. Bullshit!" Peony echoed Benedict's phrase, a serious edge to her sarcastic disbelief, a firm challenge in her eyes.

Benedict leaned in, meeting her gaze, "Peony, there are things I can't disclose, especially on a mission like this. Trust is crucial. Can you trust me on this?"

He thought, "Even if I explain how I knew, you probably won't trust me. And we don't have much time."

Peony held his gaze for a moment, the gravity of their mission settling in. "Trust is earned, Benedict. Let's see if your ways lead us to my mother safely."

"You will get to see that, before that here are the role details. He lends her his phone. You need to emulate Miranda's - Foreign A-list Actress role."

Peony, in shock, received the role details, her mind racing. "Isn't this my novel, 'Twisted Romance's antagonist, Miranda Ropan? The flop webnovel that almost drowned my writing career. What is he trying to do with this?"

Still processing the revelation about the role, Peony took a breath and decided to shift the conversation to safer ground.

"I will. Have you run out of ideas that you're handing me a script of emulating a character from a flop webnovel?" Peony tested him, her scepticism clear in her voice.

Benedict looked sharply, snatching his phone from her hand. "You don't have what it takes to understand drama. This isn't a flop novel. It's a gem, not all people understand gems," he said, defending the story with a passion as if someone had insulted his favourite celebrity.

Peony, her hidden author instinct dominating, continued, "What did you like about this novel? Not many have read it," she added, "I have read it before too."

Her words carried a nuanced blend of curiosity and pride. Obviously, she had read it—she wrote it. Every dialogue and character resided in her soul. She struggled and loved her characters like a proud mother, awaiting validation from her fans.

Benedict, caught off guard by her question, hesitated before answering, "Well, there was something intriguing about Miranda's complexity. The story had layers, and not everyone can appreciate the depth of characters like that. Every character was fleshed out and in my opinion it was deep."

Peony, suppressing a triumphant smile, thanked him for his unintentional compliment. "It's always interesting to hear different perspectives on a story; the author must have liked hearing it from you," she said, her author's heart silently celebrating the validation she craved.

Benedict, unaware of the irony, nodded. "Authors appreciate when their work resonates with readers. It's a unique connection. But enough about the story; time is limited, and you need to be ready," his business side showed.

Peony smiled, her eyes sparkling with a mix of determination and theatrical flair. "I'm more than prepared. I'm Miss Drama Queen."

Benedict chuckled, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions crossing his face. "My muse, it's been years since I've witnessed your old form, and you only seem to get better."

"Let's perform the act," he declared as the car came to a halt. Benedict stepped out, extending his hand to Peony. With a graceful gesture, he beckoned her to join him, their hands connecting in a shared commitment to the unfolding performance.

As they step out, arms entwined, they head towards the hospital. Peony's heart falters, and she breaks from her poised form, her eyes glistening with unspoken emotions.

Benedict whispers, "Peony, don't give up. Remember, you're Penelope Hart, and you're acting as Miranda. We're getting closer to finding your mother."

Peony nods and composes herself.

~~ At K hospital ~~

Benedict, exuding an air of charismatic confidence, and Peony reach the registration desk. The female nurses, caught up in the magnetic aura that surrounds Benedict, squeal with delight, their admiration evident in their expressions.

The male nurses equally admire Peony, captivated by her transformed appearance that mirrors a hotshot actress. Peony, embracing her role as Penelope Hart, effortlessly commands attention, leaving a trail of admiration in her wake.

Everyone was in awe of the celebrity couple that had just entered the hospital.

Leaning on Benedict's arm and skillfully feigning distress, Peony adopts a fluent British accent, "Oh, Ben, my stomach is terribly aching. Could you possibly do something about it?"

Benedict, adopting a soothing tone, reassures Peony, "Don't worry, babe. We've reached the hospital." He turns to the lady at the registration desk, a gentle authority in his voice, "Please, do note her name for us."

The lady at the desk inquires, "Sure, what's her name?"

In her British accent, Peony, feigning distress and clutching her belly, responds, "Penelope Hart."

Amused by the accent, the lady requests, "Excuse me, ma'am, can you please repeat."

Benedict intervenes, urgency in his voice, "Penelope Hart. Please do it quickly; my babe is suffering."

Peony's thoughts race, "Once this is over, I'm gonna cringe so hard. This drama-loving monster!"

The lady notes the information, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement.

The lady at the registration desk requests their IDs.

Benedict hands over his identification, prompting an immediate change in the lady's demeanour. "CEO of Magnificent Entertainment!" she exclaims with a hint of excitement. Shyly smiling, she adds, "And the lady's ID, please. I need to complete the registration."

Peony, in her role, laments, "Ben, it's hurting so bad. I've come all the way, leaving in the middle of my shoot from Country A just for you. I can't believe you're treating me so lightly."

"Don't worry, babe. I've got everything under control," Benedict reassures Peony. Turning to the lady with a charming smile, he says, "Beautiful lady, look at my darling. Can you excuse us just this once? In a hurry, I forgot to bring her ID. I have mine, and I can call my secretary to bring hers, but she's in a lot of pain. She needs immediate attention."

The lady, charmed by his appeal, blushes as she responds, "Sure, I can register her under your name, and you can bring her ID later. Patients are always a top priority." The situation resolves in their favour with the lady's understanding.

The lady instructs with a gentle tone, "Please proceed directly to room B-6 on the first floor; the doctor will conduct your physical check-up."

Peony responds with a charismatic smile and a subtle nod, maintaining her act of illness. The lady, observing them, remarks, "What a captivating couple!" In her thoughts, she muses, "My eyes are truly blessed today. I should share this delightful encounter on Gossipgram, accompanied by the hashtag #MeetingCelebrityCoupleInRealLife. I will ask for a picture with them after the check-up."

~~~~~

In the white corridor, bathed in the glow of fluorescent lights, Peony's head rests on Benedict's arm as she whispers, her words laced with tension, "Where is my mom? What's with all this pretence?"

"Keep acting until I give you the signal to stop. Stay in character; we can't afford to get caught," Benedict whispers back.

Peony murmurs, "I should have rejected your idea from the start! This is exactly why I don't trust your ideas." Her frustration simmers beneath the whispered words.

Benedict halts, the corridor's sterile white walls framing him. "This is the room," he whispers, pointing to the door marked ICU Room 134. The hushed intensity of the hospital corridor amplifies the significance of their clandestine mission.

Peony's heart thumps in anticipation as she stands on the threshold of ICU Room 134, eager to reunite with her mother.