SHORT SHORTS by Tonig73

THE BLUE SHOES

Sentimentality.

Nostalgia.

Memories.

Even love.

The feeling ....

Whatever you call it, the hold it has on your heart and soul and psyche is irrefutable, incandescent and indescribable. A look, a touch, even a scent can all evoke such extreme emotions sometimes, it can take your breath away, or bring tears to your eyes. Or if you're lucky .... both.

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"Shit ! I keep tripping ... " Lau looked down at his more than well-worn shoes, the blue and white Jordans he had loved and worn for years. They were scraped with black along the sides from the various floors they had walked and danced on, scuffed at the front, and the tops were parting ways with their sole. Literally.

"You bring another pair ?" Larry asked, knowing immediately what the answer would be, though given begrudgingly.

"Yeah, but I won't need 'em". Larry held the door open for his brother to enter the studio as Laurent looked down at his shoes again. "I won't, will I ?" he asked his footwear.

They purposely didn't answer him.

~*~*~         ~*~*~         ~*~*~         ~*~*~

The building consisted of three separate studios, each varying in size from the others. Larry and Laurent did their meet and greet in a smaller one, each taking a directors chair, leaving a gap in the middle for the lucky person who had paid to meet them briefly and have a picture taken with them.

Looking through the photos taken by the professional photographer in attendance, a sense of bemusement might take hold. The guys' expressions were more or less the same, certainly similar. They must have taken millions of these types of photos over the years, their smile and grin and demeanour always perfect and on point.

The fans' faces, however, varied. Widely. From scared to death, to mildly confused, to shy and pink cheeked (most fans were women of varying ages), to excessively bright and extremely happy to be in these mens' presence. And most of these fans had a preference as to which twin they favoured. You could tell who lived in Laulauland, or Blazeville, and who were just plain greedy and commuted between the two, living and working but especially holidaying in both.

The workshop went off with only the one minor hitch of some young woman having to be ejected, but hey, it happened on occasion. Laurent was adamant that the energy be right, positive, and once she was gone, it was. Both spectators and dancers were hyped, Larry's choreo was exceptional, and Lau's, as usual, was amazing.

But he was tired, they both were. For a second, he bent over, hands on knees, to get his breath. He was feeling emotional today, for some reason. Fatigue, missing home and his family. Larry had told the crowd, he missed his mom, he missed his daughter, and he had cried that morning too. His heart was sad and heavy for the absence of his family, and he knew Laurent was feeling the same way.

Choreo done and shown off, it was now time for the cypher, after a short break. Laurent danced on his own for a while, while Larry, Konkrete and friends were whooping it up on the other side of the room. The circle was loud and noisy, and he knew his brother was in the right mood tonight to enjoy that, but he wasn't, not really. He was OK, like Larry had said earlier, their fans gave them so much love, it made them forget all about their troubles and injuries, and pain. Almost.