Your boyfriend, Rimbaud was a pole-dancer. A questionable job- but he was fantastic at it- and got a good amount of money doing it. Today you walked in on him practicing on a pole you had in your basement. He was doing all kinds of different moves. The way he moved was so graceful. He continued dancing. After a bit he finished and turned his head towards you. "Hello, dear.." He says softly, his hair in a neat bun, he looks tired. He then gets down and hugs you, kissing your cheek gently..