Trigger warning: Mentions of Anorexia, brief mentions of suicide, depression.

"Have you seen this?" Remington asks on the third morning in Paris. The two were up late messing around ;) and only woke up ten minutes ago, breakfast having already been and gone. "Fuckin' hate social media." He passes the phone to his husband, who reads the news article and rolls his eyes.

"Palaye Royale's Remington Leith insults upcoming band, The Flyhighs. The fucking Flyhighs. I wonder what lies they told."

"Read the next bit."

"After Leith's husband, Andy Biersack (Black Veil Bridess)...Why the fuck have that put that? I'm not even in Black Veil anymore."

"'cause they don't know shit."

"After Leith's husband Andy had multiple conversations with the band while recording his newest album, Leith began talking with Kassandra Jacobs, later telling her to piss off over the phone while in Paris. He went on to explain that he hopes their band fail, claiming 'you don't deserve success in the music industry.' Oh my lord, what a fucking bitch."

"I can't fuckin' do anything anymore."

Andy puts the phone down. "Just ignore it, sweetheart. We know she's just being a rude ass cow." He pats the boy's head. "You've got cute sex hair."

"You've got cute sex everything. Oh, I should call Abigail."

"Good idea."

Remington pats Andy's head. "Why's your hair always so soft?"

"'cause I'm made of fairy dust and magic."

"No you're not."

"Oh."

The boy grins. "Sorry, truth hurts." He manoeuvres himself onto Andy's lap. "Why's she got to be such a bitch?"

"'cause she knows you're better than her." His hands rest on Remington's small waist. If he tried, he could quite easily touch his fingers together. "Number?"

"Nineteen."

"Awesome."

"Mhm."

Andy smiles. "So," he begins, "boat trip today. You up for it?"

Remington nods. "Definitely. What time's that at?"

"Three I think. I'll have to check." He moves a hand over the younger's back, his spine bumpy under his hand. "Go on, go call Abigail. I'll go sit downstairs so you have privacy."

"'kay. Thanks."

"Just gimme a call when you're done, alright?"

Remington nods, getting off Andy's lap and sitting against the headboard.

Andy gets dressed, kissing his husband before leaving the room. He goes into the hotel lounge, sitting and checking his Instagram, smiling at Remington's new story, posted just five minutes ago. It's a photo of him smiling, with the words Paris = happiness. The man looks through his tags, realises he's been tagged in a post by The Phantom Tomorrow, formerly Black Veil Brides. He reads the caption, confused as to why he's been tagged.

Happy Thursday, it begins, today's post is a little different. As many of you know, our frontman @andybiersack recently left the band to stay in England with his family. The days leading up to that decision were hard, upsetting. He was in a bad way. Homesick, worried about people he left behind to come with us. We found him in the worst state we'd ever seen him and made the collective decision that he had to return home. Since he said goodbye, the four of us have been thinking about him, wondering how he is, how his husband is. We spent a few sleepless nights not knowing what to really do. The band had always been Andy's. He formed it when he was seventeen and he stuck with it even when he was told it'd fail. He made it successful and he helped so many people through difficult times. We feared that the band would not be any good without him.
It was a few days after he went home that we began writing again. The first song we collectively finished was one called 'Saviour, You Give us Life' and in two weeks, we will be releasing it. The first song as The Phantom Tomorrow, the first song without Andy. We wrote it to thank him for the years he put into the band and to wish him luck on whatever he does next. Whatever it is, we know it'll be amazing. It was never in our plan for Andy to leave and we feel terrible constantly for continuing the band without him. However, his name will continue. We are calling the new album 'Biersack, This One's For You,' and will be donating twenty five percent of profits to the charity him and Remington Leith are setting up to support men with eating disorders.
Andy, we love you. We haven't forgotten you and we haven't moved on, not really. You will always be the very essence of this band, whatever the name. Keep fighting the good fight, brother.

Andy wipes his eyes. He never got over having to leave the band, not as much as he wish he could have. He's been writing music and recording in a hope that it'll make it hurt less; that he's lost his childhood pursuit. And he knows he shouldn't be feeling this way, that he can't blame it on Remington, but at the same time, he wonders, sometimes, what would have happened if Remington had never relapsed, if they'd never fallen in love and gotten married. Would he still be in the band?

The man shakes his head. It's not right to be thinking like that. He wouldn't trade his time with Remington for anything. He loves the boy. He's never loved anything or anyone more.

But then there's Black Veil Brides. Did he love that more?

No.

Maybe.

He isn't sure. It's a different sort of love. Is it wrong to wish things had gone differently sometimes? Is it wrong to wish Remington didn't have anorexia? Is it wrong to wonder if their love is worth losing his career over?

He leaves the hotel for some fresh air, leaning against the wall outside and sighing. It's okay to wish things had gone differently sometimes. It has to be. It's okay to want something he can't have sometimes. It hurts. The loss of the band. It hurts. The fear of the potential loss of Remington. It hurts. The loss of himself sometimes. It hurts. Is it okay to hurt? Is it okay to not know which way is up? Is it okay to think his own husband doesn't want him sometimes?

Remington would be fine without him, Andy is sure. He'd have his brothers. They'd probably rebuild their relationships properly without him. He'd have Abigail. He'd have more time for his band, for his recovery, for his life.

Andy shakes his head again. He knows he shouldn't be thinking like this. It's just a blip. He isn't sure what to do, how to pull himself out of this dark cave before the entrance is closed up.

"Hey Andy," Sebastian answers, holding the phone with one hand and a pen in the other, halfway through signing posters.

"You remember back when I was in America?"

Sebastian hums.

"And you said I could talk to you?"

"And that still stands. What's up?"

Andy sighs. "I'm having doubts," he says, "about leaving the band."

"You know there's nothing wrong with that."

"I know, but...it's just confusing." He pauses when some walks past. "I just feel like I shouldn't be feeling like this."

"Nothing wrong with your feelings, Andy," Sebastian reminds him. He knows that the man has a tendency to think he's less important than those around him. "Anything that's upsetting you is worth talking about."

"It's so stupid."

"It's not. You made a difficult decision and you're allowed to be thinking about it still."

"I think there's something wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you."

Andy watches a car pull into the driveway. "I should be able to talk about this shit with Remington but I can't and I don't know why."

"It's anxiety, Andy, it's okay. He'll understand."

"It's like...why should I dump more shit onto him, y'know?"

"You're not dumping anything on anyone. Me, Rem, everyone else, we all love you. You're always right here for us when we need you. Let us be here for you, too."

"That's different."

"No it's not. It doesn't matter if you're worried about something or about to kill yourself, it all matters. You matter."

"Okay."

"Talk to him, okay? And if you still haven't managed to by this evening, gimme another call. I'll help you with it."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. Stay safe."

Andy hangs up. He stays outside until Remington calls, says that he's finished talking to Abigail. Only then does he go back inside, knocking on the bedroom door and looking at the younger almost painfully.

"You okay?" Remington asks, noticing his expression. He closes the door behind the man.

"I'd say yes, but then I'd be lying."