Sighing, he rubbed his hands over his face to try and stimulate the blood flow. He was tired. His eyelids were heavy. It would be a good time to go home and catch some sleep. He could always set an early alarm and make sure he was in by seven.
***
It was a good thing he lived so close to work. By the time he got up to his apartment, he was ready to drop into bed without even bothering to take his clothes off. He could shower in the morning and the clothes were only destined for the laundry anyway. He took his phone out of his pocket to set an earlier than usual alarm, frowning as he noticed a couple of missed calls and a text message from his mum. Had he really been so tired that he hadn't heard them come in? Obviously, he had.
—Luc, please call. It doesn't matter how late.
Luc's mouth went dry. He barely spoke to his mum anymore. If she was trying to call him and text him, it meant that something awful must have happened. He dialled her number and held the phone to his ear, trying not to let panic rise within him as he waited for her to answer.
"Luc?" Her voice sounded sleepy.
"Your message sounded urgent. What's up?"
"One minute."
He listened to the muffled sounds of his mum walking through the house and of doors closing. Whilst he waited for her to start talking again, he poured himself a glass of water. He sipped it, leaning against the kitchen worktop.
"I didn't think you'd call back tonight," she said.
"You said it didn't matter what time I called. What's wrong? Has something happened to Dad, or Adam?" His chest clenched tightly.
"No," his mum replied. "It's nothing like that. I was just trying to get your attention."
"Get my—" Luc shook his head. The tightness in his chest eased but was replaced by anger. "What do you want?"
"There's no need to snap," she said, her voice just as tetchy as his had been. She sighed. "I'm sorry. I was annoyed that you weren't picking up your phone. I should have phrased my text differently. I didn't mean to make you worried."
"I was working," Luc said. He put the glass down and wandered over to the sofa. "I'm sorry too."
Pretty much every conversation they'd had recently had ended up in them both apologising. Things had been difficult between them for a long time. What hurt the most wasn't the loss of the close bond he'd shared with his family when he was younger, but that he was solely responsible for the distance he'd put between them.
"Luc, I called to ask for your help."
Luc's eyes widened. "My... help?" He couldn't imagine there was anything he could do for his family.
"Things are really rough with the business right now."
"Rough how?"
When he'd left home, his parents' dance school had been doing really well. They had full classes and had been in the process of hiring a couple of new teachers, so they could hold more.
"There's more competition than there was," his mum said. "Three more dance schools have popped up in the area in the last couple of years. Plus, the rent on the studio has gone up. That means we've got fewer students and bigger overheads. We've had to let most of the teachers go just to make ends meet."
Luc rubbed his chin with the back of his hand, as he let his mum's words sink in.
"It's pretty much just me, your dad and Adam doing the teaching now," she went on.
"How can I help?"
He knew how much the dance school meant to his parents and not just financially. They'd poured everything into it: time, energy, enthusiasm and yes, money.
"You're a marketing whizz," his mum said. "If anyone can help us turn things around and attract new students, you can."
Luc felt a lump form in his throat. "I'm not sure how much I'd be able to do long distance."
"Come home?" There was so much hope in his mum's voice, that it made Luc tremble as anxiety gripped him.
He wanted to go home, but there were so many reasons not to. Or maybe there was only one really fucking good one.
