A very slight trigger warning

After Andy has left, Remington works on a drawing in his notebook, looking up when Kacey turns up in the doorway. He welcomes her in and puts the book and the pen down, watching her sit on the bed and then talking. "You wanted to ask something?"

Kacey nods. "Yeah. How do you get-like-diagnosed with something? Like who diagnosed you with an eating disorder?"

"Oh, my therapist did. She's qualified to do that. Why?"

"Just 'cause I was diagnosed with depression when I got here and my mum didn't believe them, so now I feel like I don't have it."

Remington can't understand how her mother would be so mean. He'd do anything for his child, and he doesn't even have one. "Don't let your mum tell you what you do and don't have. The doctors know what they're talking about. Poeple tell me I'm not anorexic because apparently boys don't get that, so I spent a long time believing that my diagnosed disorder wasn't even valid. If you've been diagnosed by a professional, then who cares what your mum says? She doesn't know what she's on about." He pushes a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm pretty shit at giving advice and I am ridicuously mentally unstable, but one thing I do know is that you can't let someone else decide how valid your disorders are. It's your brain and your disorder and your diagnosis. No one eles has any right in telling you how you should be feeling."

The girl looks at the photo on his bedside table thoughtfully. "You don't sound mentally unstable."

"You haven't seen me in one of many mental breakdowns over some cheese on a plate. Today's one of my good days. My bad days are not like this."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty five (Yes, I know this is different in real life). You?" He rolls up his hoodie sleeves.

Kacey yawns. "Thirteen," she says, "I should be at school and not here."

"You're young, huh? Did your mum make you come here?"

She shrugs. "She shouted at me because I overdosed and after I was released from hospital she drve me straight here and left without even hugging me. I just kinda went along with it."

"Your mum sounds like a bitch. She should've supported you and told you she loved you." Remington's eyes catch the scars on his arms and he immidietly feels ugly for having them.

"She is a bitch. I'm not allowed to say that word."

"Freedom of speach, man. Parents just don't understand."

Kacey tries not to look at his arms. "Parents don't understand anything." She sighs. "What happened to your arms?"

Remington traces the scars with his fingers. "Self harm."

"You did that to yourself?"

The singer nods.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to feel something more than just sadness, and it's an addiction." He pulls his sleeves back down. "Don't do it, Kace, it's deadly. I nearly cut a vain a while ago."

The girl rubs her eyes. "I once used my mum's cigarette to burn myself."

Remington wants to hug her. She sounds so lost. "That's not good. You're so young."

"I hate my mum, Remington."

"I hate your mum, too."

Kacey smiles. "I've never been able to talk about this stuff with anyone."

"Well I'm glad I can help you with that. Here's the thing, is that once you're older you can leave home and you can call your mum from a different city and tell her to fuck off and never see her again."

She giggles. "How are your parents?'

"I never really knew them (This is not accurate to real life). Me and my brothers always stuck together and my big brother basically raised me and my little brother. I haven't been in contact with my parents since I was living with them."

"You sound so close to your brothers."

Remington hums. "I am. They're the best."

"Do you ever talk about your disorders with anyone?"

"Mhm, with my husband all the time. And my therapist, obviously. It's not good to have no one to talk to about it."

Kacey yawns again. "Can I talk to you about it sometimes?"

The singer nods and smiles. "Of course you can. I think it's dinner soon, unfortunately. And then I'm supposed to have a shower. Man, they schedule in our fucking showers."

"At least there are no school bullies, though."

"Yes! True that! School can go fuck itself." A doctor appears in the doorway, telling them it's dinner and leaving. Remington sighs, unsatisfied at the thought of food, and stands up. Him and Kacey walk down to the canteen and he explains how he doesn't like eating with people too near to him. She respcts this and sits away from him.

Remington pokes at the food and eats it slowly, teary because of how big the meals are here. Once he's done he dumps the tray on the side where they're told to put them and goes to have a shower. Because of his tendancy to make himself sick after meals, a doctor has to sit outside the bathroom and the door can't be locked. He washes his hair and has to force his fingers to stay away from his mouth or he will end up sticking them down his throat. Once he's done, he dries himself and pulls on Andy's hoodie and some tracksuit bottoms, making himself look away from the mirror as he gets dressed.

The doctor takes the towel from him and checks his knuckles before letting him go back to his room for the evening. He lies on his bed and carries on with the drawing he was doing earlier, humming Ribcage by Andy quietly as he focusses on the way the pen moves over the paper. He wishes Emerson was here to draw with him. It's odd to be here, to not be able to get a hug from Andy whenever he wants, to have to stick to a schedule for meal times and showers and group therapy.

At eleven everyone has to turn off their lights, and Remington crawls into bed after being given sleeping pills by a doctor. He thinks about Andy and about his brothers, and then about Kacey, that poor, young girl with a horrible mother and no hope. She reminds him of when he was with Holly. Trapped, lonely, needing someone to talk to and understand. He wants to be that person for her.

After all, Andy did that for him, the least he can do is do that for someone else.