You And Me - A Collection of Les Twins One Shots

Vegas - II

The whole trip back to Paris felt like a horrible nightmare to Larry.

He vaguely remembered turbulences and a baby crying somewhere in the backseat behind him, a couple of worried-looking flight attendants trying to catch his attention whenever they went through the isles, serving drinks and food.

But non of these things fully registered.

His heart was aching and with each mile that passed, he felt as though somebody was chipping away at his soul with an axe, leaving it irreparably broken. This was the worst fight he's ever had with his brother. By far worse than any arguments they'd ever had before, even with all the drama bullshit they went through as teenagers.

Larry could still feel the sting from where his knuckles had impacted with Laurent's chin. His eyes filled up as he rubbed them absently, his lips twisting in guilt and anger.

He'd always had a lack of control over his own temper, but this... he'd never purposefully punched Laurent before. They'd hit and slap and kick each other, sometimes there'd be a playfight or wrestle, but never a full-blown fight. Their mom had raised them better than that, especially with the kind of father they used to have. But Larry hadn't been himself back there at the studio. All the frustration from the past weeks and months had manifested into that one moment and the emotion had just gotten a hold of his body like he was possessed.

The truth was, that he'd been pissed off long before leaving Paris. Laurent had been doing things behind his back like calling agents and booking appointments and offering workshops. They'd been running themselves ragged with work for the past months and now his brother was suddenly turning a vacation they'd both been looking forward to into yet another work-related marathon session.

More than that, his brother was not just doing it because he could. He did it because he wanted more for them. He wanted more success, more attention, more money, more fame. But what he didn't think about was that these things usually came at a price. They needed time and effort and flexibility, all of which they had too little of at the moment.

Laurent was ready to move to America and Larry wasn't sure whether that was the right step to take. For the first time in his life, Larry didn't think he wanted to go down the same path as his brother.

They had family and friends back in Paris which he wasn't ready to give up. They had appartments and cars and a sense of home and familiarity that the US just couldn't provide to them. They had their coach and their hood. Larry had a girlfriend. A daughter.

How was he supposed to give all of that up?

Why?

For money they already had enough of as it was?

For even more fame which came at the cost of their privacy?

Larry's train of thought was interrupted when the flight attendant informed him that he needed to put his seatbelt on for the plane's descent. He instantly glanced to his left, knowing Laurent's least favorite part oft he ride was when the airplane landed and then his heart clenched in grief at the realization that his brother wasn't there for him to make fun of or to grab his hand and squeeze it tightly to calm him down.

The ride home from the airport was even worse than the airplane itself.

Everything in Paris reminded Larry of Lau.

Their favorite ice cream parlor, all the manifold corners and streets they'd danced at, the stupid store that sold sunglasses (not the store was a reminder, but the glasses), the supermarket with the „L" that flickered like a giant reminder of his twin's name, the old ramshackle building in their hood they secretly used as a hiding spot with the gang back when they were young and sharing their first cigarette.