TrIgGeR wArnInG I'm sure you're so tired of seeing that written at the top by now

Palaye Royale: Welcome @JordanJaguars to the Palaye family as our new drummer! Delighted to have her and can't wait to experience live shows with you and with her! Stay tuned for tour dates. They're coming in a few days.

Remington LBiersack: Yes. I changed my username. Felt like a change. Also so excited to have @JordanJaguars in Palaye Royale with us! Welcome her to the family!

Jordan Jaguars: YOOOOO!!!! I'M IN @palayeroyale!!!!! SO READY TO PLAY THEIR MUSIC WITH THEM!

Rehearsing with their new drummer it strange. To look behind him at the drum kit and not see Emerson makes Remington's heart hurt. He isn't sure if he can sing when his heart hurts like this. It's so confusing because he's so scared of Emerson, and feels so betrayed. But at the same time, Emerson is his brother and was his best friend and something like that never just goes away.

They're in Sebastian's basement, which is where they always rehearse, and in the past, they would order takeaways at midnight while they were writing albums and eat it down here. Remington almost laughs at the thought. "Can we do the second verse again?" He asks, after getting to the end of a song from their upcoming album.

Sebastian smiles. "Sure. Second verse?"

The singer nods.

"Second verse, okay, Jordan?"

The girl nods too. She spent hours down here learning all the drum parts with Sebastian playing the guitar. "Second verse, got it."

Remington adjusts the microphone stand. They play through the second verse and then they move on to the next song. The boy sings everything but it doesn't feel right. He says the right words and hits the right notes but it's not right. Because the drums aren't right. It's not Emerson playing them and it's not right.

Remington needs it to be right.

He starts really thinking about it during their last song and ends up stumbling over a few words, trying to cover it up, but forgetting words in the whole of the next verse. "Sorry," he apologises, not looking at anyone.

"From the top?" Jordan asks, oblivious to what's going on in Remington's busy mind.

"Um-yeah. From the top," the boy agrees, adjusting the stand again, trying to find something to soothe him.

They start the song again. It's fine until the second verse, when Remington forgets a word and then struggles to pick himself up and carry on. It's rare that that even happens. Usually he can carry on like nothing ever happened. It just...

It isn't right.

"You okay?" Sebastian asks, glancing at Jordan, who's confused as to why the singer is seeming so unexperienced even though she knows he's been playing live for years.

"Fine," Remington answers quickly, "from the top."

Again, they begin the song, but this time Remington can't even get through the first chorus. He's tearing up and feeling like he's letting everyone down and embarrasing himself, and if he's honest, he could do with one of Andy's hugs.

"I'm sorry," he says, looking at his brother.

Sebastian shakes his head. "It's okay. We all have off days."

"I know."

"What d'you wanna do? Take a break?"

"No, we'll go from the top. I'll be fine this time."

The guitarist isn't convinced, but agrees.

Remington doesn't even manage to start singing this time. He blinks back heavy tears and speaks carefully as to stop himself from crying. "I'm going to the bathroom," he says, hoping Sebastian doesn't hear the pain in the sentence, and runs off up the stairs.

Sebastian puts his guitar down and follows his brother up, finding him in the bathroom and knelt on the floor. "No, bub, that's not gonna help," he says as he sits on the floor and pulls Remington into a hug. "Breathe through it."

"It's all wrong, Sebby. And I-my head's so fucking messed up. I don't even know how I'm awake. I haven't slept properly since Emerson punched me and I just-everything that shouldn't be hard is hard and I need it to just fuckin' stop and give me a fuckin' break, 'cause this," he gestures to the situation, "is the only way I can think of to make it all leave me the fuck alone."

"You haven't been sleeping?"

Remington shakes his head.

"It's been two weeks, bub, that's not good."

"You don't think I know that? I feel like I'm gonna fucking collapse half the time, Andy keeps having to literally feed me because I can't fucking eat, I had three-three-panic attacks last night, and this goddamn urge keeps coming back so bad all the fucking time, so excuse me if I'm having a hard time remembering lyrics." He rubs his always-tired eyes.

"Hey, it's okay. Deep breath. Tell me what you wanna do, okay?"

Remington yawns. "I wanna go back to when I met Holly and I wanna never meet her."

"D'you need Andy, pumpkin?"

"He's busy. 'm too tired."

"C'mon, stand up. I'm taking you home."

"No," the boy protests, "we still need to rehearse."

Sebastian helps the singer to his feet. "And we will, but it's not healthy for you to be trying to sing in the state you're in. You need to sleep and have a hot bath and learn the words you can't remember, okay?"

"Andy's not home," Remington mumbles, "don't wanna be there on my own."

"I'll stay with you, don't worry."

"'s too much," Remington whispers, "in my head. 's all too much."

"I know. We'll help you make it better. Got everything?"

Remington nearly falls asleep in the car for the ten minutes they're in there, whining when Sebastian opens his door and ushers him out. He finds his key to unlock the front odor but discovers that it's already open, frowns, and pushes down the handle.

"He said you were out," Sebastian tells Andy, who they find in the living room writing what thay can only assume are lyrics.

"I told you I was off today, sweetheart," the man says, clicking the pen and putting the notebook down. "Are you alright? You look out of it."

"'s too much," is Remington's response.

"Yeah, so he needs sleep and hugs before I'm letting him rehearse," Sebastian says firmly.

"Agreed."

"Good. I'll see you later. Have a good rest, bub."

Remington makes a noise of acknowledgement before falling into Andy's arms. "'s too much, 'm too tired, you're so warm."

"Shh-shh. Sleep, little one. I got you."

"Little one?"

"Mhm."

"'m not-" he cuts himself off with a yawn, "-little."

"Sleep, big one."

Remington can't help but to laugh. "Stick with little," he murmers, "how're you so warm?"

Andy sits with the boy in his lap. "I'm made of radiators. Now sleep."

"Radiators are hard and you're not hard."

"Sweetheart, I don't know if you realise how dirty that sounded."

"Shh please. I'm trying to sleep."

Sebastian Danzig: Daily reminder to flood @remingtonlbiersack with all your love. He needs it right now.