Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton or Claire or anyone else in this story, they belong to Level 5 games and nobody else!
Learning how to love.
"I'm sorry, Hershel, but this is the only job I could get with everything going on right now."
Roland Layton apologised, a sympathetic frown being sported against his jolly beard and little ivory moustache that complimented it. He had just been telling his son about a job he had managed to get him after the young man announced that he was looking for work in a town buried up to its neck in fossils.
The young man, Hershel Layton, sighed irritably as he massaged his brow to suppress the chances of an oncoming headache. He couldn't believe that he had been given such a occupation to begin with, he couldn't even be entirely certain of how he had been roped into this in the first place.
After the recent loss of Randall Ascot, Hershel's best friend, life in Stansbury had been very rough and since everything was about archaeology before things had been shuffled around a bit to shake things on a whole new level.
Life was all about lemonade right now.
About a week or so after Randall's "death" a very unpleasant businessman by the name of Tyrone Phelps had set up shop in the local market and everyone had chose to work there quickly since it was a very fabulously wealthy job to have for any poor folk.
Hershel didn't like the idea of this man to begin with but he didn't exactly have much choice in the matter either. He had recently uncovered that his parents were going bankrupt and were in need of some financial aid, which his father could no longer support since he had thrown his back out during a job months prior to this, and he decided to do what he could to make their lives easier.
"N-No, its fine pa." Hershel shook his head quickly in an attempt to convince his father that this was a fine job choice to go down. He faked a smile as he looked at his worried parents "I must thank you for getting the job for me."
Honestly, the young Layton didn't know how he was going to cope with any of this. He still had school to attend to and now he was going to work a very tough job selling bitter Lemonade to poor thirsty costumers who didn't really have any other way to spend money right at the moment given how that the Stansbury profit with tourists was just not working on its own anymore.
He ran a lazy hand through his bouncy, hazel brown Afro. He made sure his fingertips wouldn't catch on any of the curls contained in his unkempt do but it seemed that trying to ignore the beads of sweat trickling down his face just wasn't holding up as far as hiding his inner dread went.
He forced a chuckle under his breath in hopes to ease his parent's troubled minds but the looks they gave him were filled with concern all the same.
It was made apparent very quickly that they didn't want to force him to work like this but they didn't really have any other way of keeping the bread on the table. Their parental instincts suffered for it and as did their nighttime sleep, leaving them constantly prone to insomnia, and neither Lucille nor Roland could put into words how proud they really were of their adopted son;
Hershel was always a clever little dot -a sharp one, to be sure- and he was always very tentative and was a very good listener when it came to other people's problems. Needless to say his world was a little bit dull and some excitement would probably be needed to fill in that crater that had just started to fill in his soul where Randall's absence had opened up.
The boy asked while cracking the biggest fake grin he could ever hope to manage through his sour, rectangular face "So when do I start?"
While he put on a brave face outward, within he was actually suffering. He had been pulled through stormy tides of terrors and nightmares ever since his best friend had...well, passed on.
His friends had deliberately avoided him, the village folk would constantly bring up how sorry they were that Hershel had to witness his friend's death right before his eyes, going to school and being taunted for his mistakes didn't help and he just couldn't find a shred of peace anywhere.
It was a very hard life to lead.
Regardless of the pain he felt grating his heart much like a cheese grater would with cheese, the young man listened out for the details of this new job he had officially been bestowed with. However he never felt like such a minority in his whole life and didn't want to ever feel like this again, despite the fact that his heart ached deep within.
Hershel Layton never expected that he would eventually be having to work and toil in a Lemonade shop run by a control freak maniac.
"Apparently you'll be starting tomorrow, Hershel," Lucille informed him, patting his tense shoulder gingerly as she too tried to smile despite the circumstances "your uniform should arrive in the post tomorrow."
Hershel said nothing but just nodded in response.
"...Thank you for telling me, Ma and Pa." His voice was dripping with depressing sarcasm as he excused himself from the sitting room where he and his parents were having this discussion, turned on his feet and trudged moodily up the stairs into his bedroom.
His footsteps were heavy against the hollowed stairs as he ascended up the pitch black staircase, his hand running smoothly up the banister as he leaned halfway against it to guide him through the darkness of the upstairs.
He sighed morbidly in depression as he finally clambered to the top of the stairs and he waltzed into his bedroom.
Hershel took note of a small shred of moonlight shining through the window, lighting a small part of the room up, and he used it to find his way into bed.
He shrugged his school vest off his shoulders and slid into his bed from the side, his eyes lonesome as he stared up at the boring ceiling above him. He found that white-cream was a very boring colour in his sense yet he couldn't take his eyes off it, somehow staring at this wall made him feel an ounce of clarity as he tried to take his mind of the grief and remorse he felt for his best friend.
He felt exhausted but he couldn't sleep either. It was a feeling that would rob him from a decent night sleep and when he did sleep, it would make him toss and turn feverishly beneath the covers of his bed. He just couldn't explain this at all as his head thumped back against the pillow and he gave up trying to sleep. He laid on his back and just stared up at the ceiling with his face concealed by the darkness of the night.
His mind numb, Hershel rolled on to his side to face the wall and he wanted nothing more than the shadows foreshadowing his presence to swallow him up right there and then so he would no longer have to live with the agony of losing Randal. He laid there awake, his eyes very persistent against slipping into the sleep he yearned for. He just ached all over as he closed his eyes and decided to try and let the darkness overcome him and hopefully take him away into the ground below.
What Hershel had yet to realize was that even though his life was void of joy now, things just might turn upside down.
A/N: I know that this was a sad prologue but it will get better.
This takes place just after Professor Layton loses Randall and we see how he bounces back, with the help of a certain young lady who we shall come to see soon and I can't wait to start this. I thought it would be funny to see the professor work as a Lemonade seller or something because he had to have a job to support his family before he became a Professor of archaeology.
This is how I think Hersh and Claire met.
I don't do many love stories but, hey, theres an occasion for everything.
Please review and tell me what you think.
-Chloemcg.