| Caught Up |
[Sep. 11th, 2009|03:06 pm] |
Who: Geoffrey Tennant, Ellen Fanshaw and the agent of the gay retired model Geoffrey replaced
What: Someone didn't get the memo their client's gone.
Where: At Geoffrey's home in Luton, England
When: This morning
Warnings: Language, probably.
Geoffrey's in an obscenely good mood.
Those don't happen very often. And even less rarely do they happen in the morning hours. It probably doesn't hurt that he's gotten laid with startling frequency this last week or so, along the prospect of starting his own theatre up again without the irritating corporate involvement that the New Burbage festival so readily courted. No whiny executive complaining about the cost of installing a thrust. No ridiculous numbers of boxes of notes written by Oliver on a play he's never really liked all that much.
And oh, most importantly, no Oliver.
One could almost say he's approaching normalcy, as he pads around the ridiculously large kitchen in his bare feet, boxers and a pale green t-shirt this morning, his unruly dark hair the only potential giveaway to his sometimes unstable personality, carting around a mug of coffee while he seeks something for breakfast that he can make without potentially burning the house down.
It'll probably be toast. Again. |
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