Chapter Text
“What did you do to my choreographer?!”
“Well, bonjour to you too, Jack.” Geneviève answered the phone call.
“Yes, hello, bonjour, how are you?” Jack responded dryly, “What did you do to my choreographer? He’s been back in the studio for all of two minutes and he’s already being weird. Well, weirder than normal.”
Geneviève let out a breath. “Ah, so it’s been happening to you too.”
Jack leant forward in his chair. “What do you mean? You know what’s happening?”
“Yes,” Geneviève replied, “He’s pining.”
“Pining?” Jack muttered, thoroughly confused. Tobias was not the type to pine. “Pining over what? I wasn’t aware he even knew how to pine.”
“As much as you and the rest of the world may believe otherwise, Tobias is actually capable of having feelings other than indifference and exasperation, you know?” Geneviève defended. Over his time in Paris, she had clearly come to feel fond of the choreographer, however frustrating and problem-inducing his methods of creation could be. “Anyway, he left his muse behind in Paris and I assume that’s why he’s acting, as you put it, ‘weirder than normal’. But no need to worry, I’ve solved both our problems.”
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, even more lost than before. “His muse- wait, what do you mean you’ve solved both our problems? Last time you said that to me, not two seconds later did the devil incarnate walk through my office doors and start waffling evil British nonsense!”
As if on cue, the doors to Jack’s office swung open and a man swooped into the room, arms open as if ready to receive applause for his dramatic entrance. (Jack would vehemently deny that he nearly threw the phone at the stranger out of fear).
“And here I am!”