Emile
Emile sat shotgun with his Uber driver, one nervously jiggling foot resting on the opposite leg's knee. His parents would have paid for a private cab or chauffeur, no questions asked, but sometimes it was better to feel more normal. Besides, this
was his normal now, having often shared a ride home after a night that ended in inevitable drunkeness. The driver, a man in his late 20s, smelled faintly of weed and cursed at the snow. The scent reminded Emile of his older sister, truth be told. She always seemed to have stuff stashed away...
He could remember the lodge, although not very well. He'd been young the last time that they'd visited. Trust his parents to have some holiday home that they only used once every decade. It had sure taken some adjusting when he'd moved away, but it had been good for him. He enjoyed his course, even if it wasn't going to end in what he'd told his parents it would. A chill ran down his spine, and he licked his lips. Hopefully he would be able to keep up the facade. For how much longer he'd have to lie, he didn't know. Forever?
"Hey- yeah, that way," Emile advised, pointing when they came to a fork in the road. Visibility really was awful. His driver seemed relieved when they finally reached the house, letting out a long, low whistle between his lips as he peered at the house. "That's a nice place you got."
"You're welcome to take my place." With a soft laugh, Emile rocked forward and opened the door. He'd forgotten about the servants, who quickly rushed up to help him and opened the boot to take out his suitcase. The driver seemed a little wide-eyed at it all, giving his head a shake as he drove away.
"Thanks. I'm Emile," he said quietly as they helped him inside. He shrugged off his jacket, smiling gently at a nervous looking maid. She seemed terrified despite the smile. To be honest, he felt the same. He took in the lodge with a soft sigh - it was coming back to him now. All fancy and cleaner than his plate after a long day of lectures. His steps became wandering as another servant lead him to his old room. "Your older sister, Samantha, has already arrived, sir," she informed him as they went. "Your parents will greet you altogether, a little later. I hope that you will be comfortable."
Servants made him feel a little awkward, truth be told. The only reason that he was here, was because of his birth. He wasn't an inherently better person. He didn't really deserve all of this. It was just the status quo. The room itself was as he remembered - a queen-size, comfortable bed with a blue-and-white theme to it. Emile wasn't feeling tired, though. He thanked the servant who brought in his bed, pausing for a moment in the middle of the room. Samantha... He could barely recall her. Had he actually ever met her? Had she brought anyone with? He hovered, before tentatively going to his door and peeking down the passageway. He could hear voices. Brief excitement and nervousness suddenly struck in his chest. He'd be seeing Nat, and Arthur, and Elaine, and Indy, and... Esi.
The family was coming together. However dysfunctional, he still loved them.