A puffy-eyed lectrice and a video chat in progress

Léa's surprise at seeing you is mirrored by yours at her appearance. She looks like she's been crying, although she's dried her eyes to answer the door. Not that a crying girl is anything unusual nowadays (not since you found the Rulebook, that is), but she doesn't look spanked so much as sad. Behind her, you can't help noticing, her laptop is open on the bed, its screen facing you, with a handsome, dark-haired man scowling out of it, plainly fuming about something.

"Have I caught you at a bad time, Léa?"

"I am sorry, Jaques. I have been talking to my bloke. It turns out we have some matters to discuss."

At that moment, you're interrupted by a voice from the laptop. He speaks too quickly for you to make out what he's saying through the computer's reedy sound system, but you catch the occasional word and gather that it's mainly a stream of invective, the word putain coming up often enough to seem like a refrain. Léa storms over and hisses as the screen, too quietly for you to hear properly, but you think she's telling him that he's embarrassing her in front of her colleague. That does the opposite of calming him and the sweet blonde shifts her weight from foot to foot, the strain of dealing with an irate boyfriend in front of you written in every sinew of her body.

Suddenly you can't watch any longer.