The exhibition begun at six pm. Remington and Andy arrived two minutes early. It was important they weren't late. It was Emerson's art that was on show. Being late would have been an insult. 

Emerson was pleased to see them, and said after greeting them, "Is Sebastian coming?" 

Remington shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "I don't know," he admitted. "I imagine so, at some point. Larisa wants to come, anyway. She said she'd be here when she's locked her salon up for the night. Shy around?" 

"Of course. She's getting us drinks. Come through. I'll show you around."

"You are an artist, Emerson?" Asked Andy. From where they were stood, he could see through a doorway at a piece hanging on the wall. 

"I like to think so." 

"This is very exciting for me." Andy looked at Remington. Their arms were again linked, as they were at the dinner. He liked the security. "What sort of art do you create?" 

Emerson was smiling. "Come and see. It's just through here." He led them through to the gallery room and stopped before a large pen drawing, said, "This one is my favourite. It's inspired by the buildings in Paris." 

For a while, Andy was quiet. "I do not know what to say, Emerson. This is...breath taking." 

"Oh, thank you. I'm glad you like it." 

"You said it is inspired by Paris. This building is The Notre Dame, yes?" He asked, pointing at the centre of the artwork. "Before it was burned down." 

"Yes. That's right. The architecture is beautiful on The Notre Dame. I've drawn it many times." 

"You capture it perfectly. I am in awe, Emerson." 

"Thank you." 

"He's quite remarkable, isn't he," Remington said. 

"Yes. Emerson is very remarkable. Thank you for bringing me to see his artwork." 

"Do you want a drink?" 

"Just water, please." 

Remington freed his arm from Andy's and turned for the refreshment table in the other room, leaving his Perfect and his brother to discuss the drawing. He bumped into Sebastian while he was getting the drinks, said, "When'd you get here?" 

"Just now. I can't stay for long but I didn't wanna miss it. Where's Em?" 

"Through there, with Andy." 

"Ah, Andy." 

Remington raised an eyebrow. "Don't say it like that." 

"Like what? I'm just saying his name." 

"You know what you're doing." 

Sebastian shook his head. "I don't know what you mean." 

"You have a problem with him." 

"Who told you that?" 

"Come on, don't play dumb with me. You have a problem with him."

"I don't have a problem with him," Sebastian said coolly, pouring wine into a glass. "Why would I have a problem with him?" 

"I don't know. Why would you?" Asked Remington accusingly. He folded his arms. 

"Don't give me that look. I've not done anything. I never said I didn't like Andy." 

"Then stop saying his name like that." 

"Like what?" 

"Like you think there's something funny about him." 

"There is." 

"He's just like anyone else, Sebastian." 

"He's made of metal, Remington." 

"No. He's not. He's a person." 

"He's a glorified robot with mannerisms that make you think there's something to him. He came in a box, he wasn't born. He's just a thing, Remington. A thing you'll get bored of. Like all those toys you used to have. A thing you play with, it gets repetitive, and you throw away. He's a thing." 

Remington picked up the two glasses and left. He wasn't going to get in an argument, not at Emerson's exhibition. And besides, he knew Sebastian was wrong. He knew there was more to Andy than he was being given credit for. He knew that Emerson saw it, and he knew that soon enough, Sebastian would too.

Andy and Emerson were still stood before the same artwork when Remington returned. He passed the water to Andy, who thanked him and took a sip. 

"I think I'm in love with him," Emerson joked. "Poor Shy's gonna have to third-wheel." 

"I am very lovable," Andy replied. "That is what Remington tells me." He took another sip. "I am very pretty, too." 

Emerson sniggered. "I'm never telling you any secrets." 

"I cannot keep secrets. I have to be honest always. It is in my nature." 

"What if keeping a secret is the best thing in a situation?" 

"I may judge the situation as it comes," Andy explained. "Only important secrets I can keep, such as if you were to tell me something about yourself that you do not wish to tell everybody. You understand?" 

"Of course."

Andy took another sip and said, "Remington, are you alright?" 

The singer was teary, looking at the drawing as he answered. "Uh, yeah. Sorry." He wiped his eyes. "Sorry." 

"You're upset?" Asked Andy, turning toward him.

Shaking his head, Remington sipped his drink. "Pride." 

"For Emerson?" 

"Yeah. For Emerson. The genius." 

The brothers hugged and then they moved on to another drawing, joined by Sebastian and Larisa. Sebastian's eyes kept lingering on Andy's side profile. Remington caught him staring and shook his head. "Stop it," he mouthed. 

Sebastian smiled. "Hey, Andy," he said. 

The Perfect looked at him. 

"What do you think of Emerson's art?" 

"Emerson is a wonderful artist, Sebastian." 

"Yes, quite. But what do you think of his art? You know, what are your thoughts?"

"I think that Emerson's art is a depiction of a world he longs for but that does not fully exist. Each building is immaculate like nothing in reality, and I think he is striving for more than humanity has to offer." 

Remington smiled at Sebastian and Emerson said, "It's like he can read my mind. Really, Rem, I'm falling in love." 

"You got all that from a drawing?" Sebastian asked. 

"Yes," Andy answered. "Of course." 

"Stop it," Remington demanded. "Sebastian. You're being a dick. Stop it." 

"I'm not doing anything." 

"It's alright, Remington. I understand Sebastian has reservations about me. That is okay. I would like to answer everything he wants to know." 

"No, I'm not humouring him like this. You don't owe him anything, least of all your intelligence." 

Looking at Remington, Andy tilted his head. "You are upset with him." 

"I'm always upset with him. He has that effect on me." 

Sebastian scoffed. "Oh, shut it, drama queen." 

"Andy, why don't you look at the other drawings with Emerson? Me and Sebastian need to have a talk." 

"No, we don't," the elder snapped. "I don't talk to people who are friends with things." 

"Right. That's it. I'm leaving." Remington downed his drink. "Andy, you stay. Enjoy the art with Emerson. He'll drive you home, won't you, Em?" 

"Yeah, course." 

"Bye."