The title’s making me laugh more than it should.
Trigger warnings: Mentions of suicide, brief mention of alcohol, brief mention of sex.

By the time he’s been home for a week, Remington is seeing and talking regularly to a girl. The sight of them together makes Sebastian sick, mainly because he knows it’s only a matter of time before Andy finds out. “Tidy up your fucking room,” he says on a Saturday afternoon, as a way of inserting himself into their quiet, private conversation.

Looking up from the girl to his brother, Remington groans in annoyance. “Get a cleaner,” he says.

“You’re not staying in The Ritz. Tidy up.”

The woman, Amber, leans back on the couch and folds her arms. Remington huffs. “The fuck is The Ritz?”

Sebastian smiles inwardly because that means his brother isn’t himself. Old Remington is well aware of the fancy London hotel. He’s asked time and time again if they can stay there. “Chop chop, it’ll take ten minutes, fifteen minutes tops.”

“It’s hardly even a mess.”

The man laughs. “I know where you’ve been staying in hospital, it was acceptable to sulk in bed all day and expect somebody to clean up your piss from the toilet seat, but that’s not how things are here, alright? You make a mess. You clean it up. And it wasn’t me that threw clothes all over the floor in you room.”

“It wasn’t me who wanted to stay here,” Remington retorts.

“You can be homeless if you prefer.”

“Just tidy your room, Rem,” Amber says. “It is a mess.”

“Fuck you both.”

“You shouldn’t be fucking anyone,” Sebastian reminds him.

“Yeah yeah, we all know that rule’s a load of cack.”

“This act you're putting up is a load of cack.”

Remington rolls his eyes. “Sorry I’m just cooler than you.”

“You’ve mistaken the words ‘more of a cunt’ with the word ‘cooler’.”

“Piss off. I’ll tidy up later. It’s not like the world will end if it’s not done right this second.”

“No, but you might find some of your clothes are mysteriously covered in food-dye if you don’t get on with it.”

Remington groans. “God, such a drama queen. It’s just a room.”

“It’s a room in my house that I pay for. You could at least pretend to be grateful.”

“Go away now,” demands Remington, not waiting for his brother to leave the room before he kisses Amber, who, from what Sebastian has seen, is rather into the cocky, rude man. The reasons behind that attraction, he’s sure, could not span more than just physically. It’s no secret Remington is an undeniably gorgeous being. If only his new personality could reflect such beauty.

Emerson fear leaving Andy home on his own. It’s not that he thinks the man is uncapable of looking after himself, more that he just doesn’t care enough to bother. Twice in one week, Emerson has walked in on him just sitting in the shower which has since run cold, staring at nothing with vacant, destroyed eyes. Unfortunately, this afternoon is no different, and the all to familiar sight is seen again.

“Andy, you’re freezing,” Emerson says, once he’s discovered the scene.

It seems that Andy is vacant in mind. He doesn’t show any signs of hearing what the younger is telling him. In fact, he’s so distant that is hasn’t occurred to him that he’s literally shaking because the water is cold.

Turning the shower off, Emerson grabs a towel and tries again, saying, “Andy, hey. Look here. You’re shivering.”

Andy blinks stiffly. “What?” He snaps. His mood has been wild since Remington awoke.

“You’re cold,” Emerson reminds him.

Violently, Andy yanks the towel from Emerson’s hand, sending an unnecessary glare and standing up. “What?” He asks again, when the younger continues looking at him.

“Are you okay?”

“Obviously.”

Emerson sighs. He leaves the bathroom and watches Andy sulk into the bedroom from halfway down the stairs. It’s not easy, seeing him like this. And even worse that he knows the only thing that’s gonna help is for Remington to quit acting like a sex-hungry douche with a love of sarcasm. He’s supposed to have a love for Andy.

When he appears from upstairs, Andy is still sulking and solemn. He avoids Emerson’s rather unnerving observing eye, sitting on the couch and deciding it’s easier to lie, instead, so he curls his legs up into his chest and stays there for the rest of the long, long day, unhappy, tired, and oh-so-lonely.

“Is he still being a dick?” Emerson asks his brother on the phone, after noticing that Andy has gone to sleep.

There’s an audible sigh. “Yes.”

“How bad?”

“Well, I just walked in on him balls deep in Amber.”

“Amber?”

“His ‘girlfriend’ apparently. I don’t know, Em. He met her the night he was discharged. You know he fucking snook out of the house and went to a bar?”

Emerson would laugh if it wasn’t all so upsetting. “He did? What an idiot. What, now he’s sleeping with her?”

“I told him plenty not to have sex with anyone bit I guess all I did was put the idea in his head. He’s like a child who’s been told not to touch something.”

“At least with children you can ground them,” Emerson says.

Sebastian hums. “They’re all over eachother. It’s disgusting. I don’t know why she likes him so much, he’s just rude all the time.”

“What’s she do for a job?”

“Model, I think. Why?”

“Well, that’s why she likes him, then. Models need pretty boyfriends, Seb. And is she blonde and skinny with big tits?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, there ya’ go. Remember before he came out, that was the only type of girl he’d get with. Probably because he thought that was what he was supposed to do. God, I wish he’d just fucking snap out of it.”

“I know. How’s Andy?”

“Not good. He keeps zoning out. It’s weird. Like he’s trying to escape.”

“Poor guy.”

Emerson sighs. “He’s suicidal, you know?”

“Really?”

“He told me. And he’s so desperate for a drink, it’d like keeping candy from a kid.”

“Great. So we’re basically babysitting.”

“At least my kid’s nice. You’ve got the cocky one that no one wants to play with.”

“Well…Amber likes playing with him.”

“Ew, shut up.”

“Maybe we could try showing Remington their wedding photos,” suggests Sebastian. “Y’know, see if we can jog a memory or two. It might work.”

Emerson sighs again. “Even if he did remember, Seb, he’d never admit it. He was bad enough before this personality change. Remember how long it took him to come out in the first place? He didn’t tell us until after Andy had proposed.”

Sebastian chuckles at the thought. “And he thought we didn’t already know.”

“He hasn’t turned straight,” Emerson says, “there’s no way.”

“No, definitely not. I feel almost bad for him, making out with a girl when he’ll never enjoy that. It’s sad, really.”