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Post by Jean-Laurent d'Aubin on Nov 15, 2016 17:53:47 GMT -8
He probably should have taken a few hours to settle in, if he were being honest. Upon parking the rental car outside, he'd dragged his bags in and deposited them in the little front room and given the house only a cursory glance before picking up his phone.
To: Monty UK Number
[Send my current location]
The satisfying ding sounded, and Jeannot went to explore the little two-bedroom house, all in grey stone.
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Post by Rawdon Montgomery on Nov 15, 2016 18:23:55 GMT -8
To: [star emoji] JEANNOT [star emoji]
How did you get here before me question ? Backspace backspace delete for the love of
To: [star emoji] JEANNOT [star emoji]
I still don't know how this thing works send this send send done
To: [star emoji] JEANNOT [star emoji]
I'm driving at the moment but I'll be there in about twenty
Monty stabbed at the phone sitting in the dashboard holder, sending the message and cancelling out of the voice-to-text option, and concentrated on the road ahead of him. It had been a pleasant, if long, drive down to Cornwall, and he was glad he'd decided to make the trip on his own. He valued the time before a job to be by himself and concentrate. Not that he didn't love spending time at home with his friends, but they weren't exactly conducive to a peaceful working environment.
He had planned to head straight to Hill Farm, where he was renting a room for the duration of filming, but it seemed as though wherever Jeannot was staying was on the way there. He couldn't imagine that anything was particularly far from anywhere in a village like Penchurch, except any cities. Monty glanced at the time on the radio. He still had plenty of time to stop at Jeannot's and arrive at a polite time at the B&B, he reasoned. It made sense to stop there first, he hadn't seen Jeannot since the final auditions, and those had been weeks ago.
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Post by Jean-Laurent d'Aubin on Nov 15, 2016 18:46:26 GMT -8
Twenty was nothing, and Jeannot had time to at least drag his baggage upstairs and put a kettle on the little gas stove to heat, double checking that there was tea (there was). He never touched the stuff, of course, and immediately pulled out his stovetop coffee maker and ground beans, setting that to brew and heading upstairs to change into pajamas. The NYU sweatpants were worn and horrible and deliciously comfortable, and anyway it was only Monty, and his shirt was perfectly acceptable.
He had just grabbed a cardigan when he heard a car pull in. With an enormous grin he clambered down the stairs and to the door.
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Post by Rawdon Montgomery on Nov 15, 2016 19:13:58 GMT -8
Monty killed the engine and stepped out of the car, looking at the little grey bungalow in front of him. The door opened and he grinned widely as his friend came into view. He closed the gap between them in a few easy steps and pulled Jeannot into a one armed hug, the other hand clutching his phone and his keys.
'I leave you alone in a Cornish village for an hour and you end up in a cottage in your pyjamas. Look at you, you've practically gone native.' The teasing was offset by his smile, which was one of childish delight. 'Are you going to invite me in for tea and scones?'
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Post by Jean-Laurent d'Aubin on Nov 15, 2016 19:19:31 GMT -8
"Monty!"
Jeannot's participation in the hug was two-armed and entirely affectionate. A casting office was hardly the place for warm reunions, so he hadn't seen Monty properly in months. A hug was entirely appropriate. He only drew back to look at Monty's face and to retort, "More to keep my toes from freezing off--come in, come in!"
He opened the door behind him and gestured vaguely to the coatrack. "And there'll be tea, but no scones, because I haven't got the heat up yet so I put both kettles on."
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Post by Rawdon Montgomery on Nov 17, 2016 9:46:18 GMT -8
'It's...quaint,' Monty said as he followed Jeannot into the house. Ignoring the coat rack, he flung his jacket over the back of an armchair before taking up residence in the armchair itself. 'Very Midsomer Murders.'
Though he didn't suppose that a bed and breakfast named 'Hill Farm' was going to be any less quaint.
'Have you been in town long?'
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Post by Jean-Laurent d'Aubin on Nov 17, 2016 11:10:06 GMT -8
"Everything here is quaint, Monty, it's a quaint town, it's why they picked it," he said, whacking the back of Monty's head as he went to sit across from him. The other chair was close enough that he could lift his feet into Monty's lap with an irritating grin.
"Texted as soon as I got in," he said as he wiggled his be-socked toes. "Dragged the baggage up to the rooms and put the kettle on. And the coffee maker. As if by design Hallie managed to get herself pregnant in time for this to be early maternity leave, so other than the manager back in LA I'm on my own." Jeannot honestly wouldn't put it past his assistant to get pregnant specifically, but he said it with fondness. "I can afford it after that Marvel thing, anyway."
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Post by Rawdon Montgomery on Nov 24, 2016 12:28:33 GMT -8
'Ah yes, I forgot that you're the big-shot movie star of this production. Are you drinking coffee in a perfect, picturesque English cottage like this? Heathen,' Monty said, his glare mock-accusatory. 'First no scones, now this.'
He glanced about him again. He couldn't deny it had a certain charm but Monty was, as many single young men his age were, barely self sufficient.
'No, you're right, it's lovely. Don't get anyone to cook for you though, do you? Bed and breakfast all the way for me. Lovely sea views, and a cooked meal every morning.'
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