"Hey man," answers Lonny. "What's up?" He's in the studio, as is everyone except for Andy, who was supposed to be there half an hour ago. "You stuck in traffic or something?"

Andy almost doesn't have the heart to say otherwise. He considers lying, agreeing. The traffic's awful, he's out of petrol, it'll take all day to get there. But he knows he shouldn't lie, so he looks at the boy in the dining chair with a mug of tea, too caught up in his own mind to listen, sighs, and says quietly, "I can't come today."

"Oh. Why not? Is everything okay? You know we really need you today. We have so many vocals to track."

"I know, I know. I'm really sorry. Something happened."

"What happened?" Lonny asks.

"It's personal," Andy replies. He isn't one to gossip about something like this.

"Okay. I'll tell the others." There's a sigh from Lonny, then he hangs up, and Andy opens the fridge. "Do you want some apple juice?" He asks Remington, who looks up at him and nods. "How'd you sleep?"

Remington shrugs and picks up the mug of tea. "Quite well," he says.

Getting two glasses from the cupboard, Andy smiles. "Yeah? That's good."

"It feels weird. Remembering what happened."

"I can imagine."

"Do you think I'll remember anything else?"

Andy puts one of the glasses down beside his tea. "I hope so. I'm sure you will."

"Thanks, Andy." He pushes his chair back and stands up, wraps his arms around the man's neck.

Returning the hug, Andy hums. "You're very welcome, cutie pie. Are you hungry? I'll show you how to make pancakes."

"Pancakes? What're pancakes?"

"Something you used to eat so much I'm surprised you didn't turn into one. This is gonna be fun."

Remington steps back. "I'm starving," he says. "What's that saying? So hungry I could eat a whore?"

Andy laughs and kisses Remington's cheek. "Horse," he corrects. So hungry you could eat a horse. I don't think you want to eat a whore."

"Isn't whore what my brothers used to call me?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Does it mean, like, someone who has sex all the time?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Oh, my phone. One sec. CC, hey. What's up?"

"You need to come in today."

"I can't. I told Lonny already. Something happened at home."

"Yeah? What happened?"

"I can't say, but I'll be back tomorrow."

"I don't know what to believe anymore, Andy," CC says. He sounds fed up.

Andy leans against the counter. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You come in for a few hours, we do half a song, then you go and we don't see you for a week. It's not fair on us, Andy. We can't do anything until the vocals are finished and let me remind you that you're the vocalist. You can't just sack us off like this. It's your job to sing."

"CC, come on, don't be like that. I said I'll be in tomorrow."

"You said that yesterday."

"You calling me a liar? I can't just leave, Remington needs me. I can't leave him all day."

"He has brothers, does he not?"

"Oh, charming. Just pass him on to someone else? CC, he's my husband, I love him, he needs me. I'm not gonna leave him here all day, alright? Not right now. I'll be in tomorrow, I promise."

"Bring him with you, I don't care. Just come in, for God's sake."

"Bring him with me? Are you crazy? I'm not bringing him with me and I'm not coming in. Sorry, but it's not happening. You can manage without me for one day."

"But it's not just one day, is it? It's been like this for months. We're so behind with the album, we can't afford this."

"Tough, deal with it," Andy says, and hangs up. Then he looks at Remington and smiles. "Right. Pancakes."

"You were talking about me?"

The man hums. "It's just my band. Don't worry about it. Do you know where the flour is?"

"Flour? Those?" He points to a vase, filled with pink and white roses?"

"Those are flowers. Flour is for cooking."

"You're saying the same thing."

Andy chuckles. "Here, look." He gets a bag of flour from the cupboard. "Flour, see?"

"Flour. Flowers. Same word, just with an s. Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're wrong."

Remington whines. "What's flour anyway?"

"It's for cooking. We can use it for the pancakes. What're you giggling about?"

"Nothing. Just flowers and flour and whore and horse."

"I see."

"If there's more than one whore, are they horse?"

Andy laughs. "Don't call anyone a horse."

"But can I call them a whore?"

"You can call me a whore."

"What if I, uh, introduced you to people by saying, like, 'this is Andy, he's a whore.'"

"Then I'll say, 'and this is Remington and he's a flower'. Now stand here and hold this." He puts a sieve in Remington's hand.

The boy looks at it and turns it over. "What the hell is this?"

"A magic device that summons aliens."

Remington stares at it. "Even I know that's a lie."

"It's a sieve. Stops lumps getting into the mixing bowl."

"God, being an adult is confusing."

"You're only now realising that?"

"What do I do with this?" He waves it around. "It looks funny."

"You're a child."

"It's like a hat."

"I knew you were gonna say that." Andy gets the box of eggs and a bottle of milk. "I'll put the radio on."

"That's the music thing?"

"Indeed."

"Okay!"

"Stop waving that about, I'm worried you're gonna whack me with it." He cracks an egg into the bowl. "I'll throw one at you."

Remington giggles. "Meanie," he whines playfully, then puts the sieve down and hugs Andy again.