Lying on the bed, phone propped up against a pillow, Remington watches people join the livestream, the number growing fairly quickly. "Hi!" He greets, "ask me some questions. It's been a while since I've interacted with you guys." Questions fill the comments and Remington spends a minute looking for a good one. "Favourite movie? Oh, um...I don't know. Me and Andy kinda just watch the same things over and over. If you mean a standalone movie, then probably Sweeney Todd. Johnny Depp is fuckin' awesome." He scrolls the comments, laughing at one. "Someone's asking if I'm gay. Yes. Very much so. Who's Andy? Oh, my husband. Andy Biersack. He sings in Black Veil Brides. We've been married for, I believe, two years and a bit, now."

While he looks at the comments, Remington reaches for a glass of orange juice that's on the bedside table, sipping it as he looks for a good question.

"My favourite tour memory? Oh God, there are too many. It's got to be Gerard Way coming to a show last tour. I got his number. Still not over it. You can ask Andy about that." He sis the drink again. "Why've you been gone so long? Well...I was in a mental institution for a few months because I was in a really dark place. I only got home four days ago, so I'm just kinda easing myself back into social media. How am I? I'm doing okay. Me and Andy have both been going through some shit recently, but we've got eachother and we've been having a lot of bubble baths, so it's all good. Bubble baths make everything better."

He puts the glass down and picks up his phone, standing up with it and going downstairs, glass in one hand and phone in the other.

When he reaches the living room, Remington sits on the couch and just holds the device. "Where is Andy? He went out to the shop a while ago. He always says he'll be ten minutes and then takes two hours. I don't fucking know what he gets up to. Probably deciding which brand of fucking tea to get. Something you wanna do but haven't? I would love to go surfing, actually." The front door slams and Remington looks behind him. "Well, we found Andy," he says, "hey! Come live with me!"

Andy carries the bags into the kitchen. "Now?" He calls back.

"You know it! Why are you so skinny? First of all, it's really rude to comment on someone's weight. I don't wanna talk about it, please stop spamming the comments. What am I drinking? Orange juice with lemonade."

"You know your shirt's on inside out?" Andy asks, sitting down next to the boy. "It's cute. Hi everyone."

Remington shrugs. "I didn't know, but oh well. The comments are fucking confusing."

"Someone wants to know what you last laughed at."

"Andy this morning," Remington says. "He was getting dressed and, like, walked straight into the corner of the bed."

Andy raises an eyebrow. "Glad my pain amuses you," he jokes.

"You squealed. It was adorable." The singer lets Andy take the phone. "I mean poor you, it must've been so distressing."

"He's acting like he doesn't care but you should've seen him."

Remington smiles. "Andy, if you could be someone else for a day, who would you be?"

"Are we talking people who are alive today, or anyone who has ever been alive? Nevermind, I have an answer."

"If you say something soppy right now I'm gonna lick you," Remingotn threatens.

Andy laughs. "I'd be Remington," he says, and the boy glares at him. "Because I wanna know what goes on in your head so I can make you happy."

After saying, "I did warn you," Remington licks Andy's face, turning his head the other way when the man licks him back. "Also, what the fuck are you on about? You already make me happy, you idiot. Do you wanna adopt?"

"Oh God, that's a complicated one. You wanna explain, or shall I?"

Remington shrugs. "You start."

"Okay. So a few days ago we were actually really close to adopting someone. We were like about to sign the papers, but I was getting really stressed because of that, and because of some other stuff, and ended up in a car park crying into Remington. We talked about it and decided that there's too much going on for a child to be an option, at least at this present time, and so we pulled out last minute. I feel awful about it, specially for the girl we were gonna adopt, but I stand by fact that it's never good to sacrifice your mental health for something that can be avoided."

"It's sad. I really do want a child. And I love her. But at the end of the day, if I'm not okay, then how will looking after a child ever help? I'm not ready for that."

Andy hums. "The best decisions are the hardest to make. What little things do you guys fight about? Little things? I don't know. We don't really bicker at all."

"The only times we fight are when I'm really depressed and I get mad at everything and scream at Andy for ten minutes, and then I get lonely and ask for a hug, and that's that. We don't fight, as such, I just get confused."

"Poor baby gets very overwhelmed sometimes," Andy coos, "they're asking if those are hickies, by the way."

Remington finishes the orange juice. "Yes, they are."

"He has them on other parts of his body, too." They both know he's teasing Remington because of what he said the other night.

"Ew, Andy, shut up. They don't wanna hear that!"

"Apparently they do. Dirty fuckers."

"You're a dirty fucker."