You And Me - A Collection of Les Twins One Shots

Ambush

Larry never talked about it to anyone. 

It was one of his worst childhood memories, buried in the darkest corner of his mind beneath a shitload of other stuff like his dad's abuse and their mom crying over the electricity bills she couldn't pay. It was something they had never talked about with each other and to their eternal gratitude, their family had never openly addressed the incident either, not to make fun of them and not even to scold them for their naivety. That's how bad it was. 

To be fair, they should have seen it coming. 

They had been mocked and ridiculed for their dancing ever since they first started showing off their moves in the neighborhood. They were unconventional, their moves too out-of-the-ordinary to blend well with the other dancers in the scene, their choice of music wasn't classical hip-hop but avant-garde stuff, house and techno and sometimes even jazz. 

Laurent had always been a bit more daring than him when it came to dancing. He was so contemporary in his style and careless of what others thought of him. He always let the music take control of him, like he was possessed by it or something, like he didn't even have control of his own limbs once the beat took over his senses. 

Larry was a bit more traditional, he focused more on footwork, more on isolating and popping and locking, all of which was more accepted by the crowd, which was something at least partially relatable by the old-school hip-hoppers in their hood. 

But Laurent was all pirouettes and death-drops and becoming a life interpretation of music. He was like a comedian and a mime and a ballet star all at once. He wasn't afraid to be free in his art. And he never once listened to the running commentary of his haters when they didn't understand his style. He was never deterred. 

Larry had been under the impression that it got better over time, that they had become part of the community. That they had earned their spot in the hood by showing their genuine love for music and by proving their talent, time and time again. 

But he should have known better.

He had seen the warning signs long before it happened. But he had ignored them. 

He had heard the comments they had made. But he had chosen to disregard them. 

He had seen the way they had looked at his brother. And told himself they were jealous of his talent. That they simply didn't understand the extent of Laurent's musicality. Of his creativity. 

But he had been wrong. And he had paid dearly for it. 

On a Saturday night in late February, they had been invited to a battle by a few of the regulars. 

They had been happy to join in on the fun, never once stopping to question the fact that battles usually took place on Sundays. Never once questioning why everyone was just a little too friendly to them in order for it to be inconspicuous. 

By the time Laurent started dancing, Larry had been nervous to say the least. Call it intuition or whatever, but he had sensed the odd tension in the air, had noted the way everyone was hyper-focused on his brother's moves, even more insistent on ridiculing him than usually. It had made his hackles rise, had made his fingers curl into fists by his side, ready to deal out his own brand of respect to the fuckers who thought they could make fun of his twin and get away with it. But the trash-talking was only just the beginning. Eventually one of the guy's stepped into the circle, blocking Laurent's movement, stopping him from dancing. Laurent went to protest when one of the other blokes stepped up from behind him, grabbing Laurent's arms and restraining him.

Larry realized it then, his heart sinking with dread. 

This was no battle. 

It was an ambush.