Trigger warning.

"How are you managing without Andy?" Abigail asks. It's been two weeks since Andy left for tour and it's clear his absence is taking a toll on Remington.

The boy is, as usual, twisting his wedding ring around on his finger. "Not great," he answers, "I couldn't manage if Sebastian wasn't staying with me." Remington picks up the glass of water from the table and sips it. "Eating is hard," he admits, recalling yesterday's incident. Sebastian had made risotto and, even though Remington thought he could eat it, just looking at the plate in front of him made him cry. He felt awful for Sebastian, who had spent time making a nice meal, but he just felt so sick. His brother was so careful and promised Remington that it was okay, even though both of them knew it wasn't okay. Missing one meal makes it so much easier to miss the next meal, and before you know it, he's not eaten for a week and ends up collapsing and back in hospital with a feeding tube. It made him feel so useless to be sobbing over a plate of fucking risotto, and even worse when he saw that Sebastian was crying, too.

Abigail can see how thin he still is. She doubts he's gaining weight, and she's worried that he's going to continue losing it. He would be really unsettled if he had to go into an eating disorder facility. "Can you tell me what you have eaten recently? Did you have any breakfast?"

"I had some strawberries," he says, "Sebby made me have a bit of yogurt, too." By that he means that his brother gave him a bowl of strawberries and yogurt and sternly told him that he had to eat it and that he'd feel better after eating it. It worked because Remington did have the food.

The woman is relieved to hear that. "Okay. That's good, Remington. It's good that Sebastian can persuade you to eat." She fills the glass again for him. "And I trust he's taking good care of you, yeah? He's not letting you make yourself sick?"

Remington yawns. He didn't sleep well last night. "No, he won't let me out of his sight, and if I go to the bathroom for a shower or something he doesn't let me close the door." It makes him smile for some reason. "I do feel really safe with him."

"Alright, Remington, I want you to write down everything you eat, and anything you can't manage to eat, in your notebook for me, okay? We need to figure out what makes you feel sick and what you're okay with eating so you can start having food that you're able to eat."

Remington likes that idea, and he likes how she isn't just telling him to start eating more. It doesn't work like that. If it did, then he wouldn't be so fucking thin. "I can do that. Everyday?"

Nodding and opening her laptop, Abigail opens the questionnaire he filled in a few weeks ago. "I want you to focus on one thing for me this week," she begins, scrolling until she finds the question she's looking for. Are you scared of losing control of your eating habits? Remington had answered yes, just as she thought he would. "I want you to try and stick to dedicated times for meals. Try your best to have three meals everyday, and even if you can't manage to eat at all three, just get used to that being the time for eating. If you have a schedule for eating, it should help you with being able to eat more each day. Tell your brother that you need dedicated times and get him to eat with you at those times so you're not doing this on your own. Remember that you're not fighting this alone." She writes down some ideal times on a post it note and hands it to him, and Remington slips it inside his wallet so he doesn't lose it. He promises that he'll stick to the times, and Sebastian soon turns up to take him home.

He asks how therapy was and is glad to hear that Abigail is giving him ways to control his eating. When they get home, Remington sticks the post it note on the fridge, and smiles at the photo of him and Andy that's also on the fridge. It's a picture from their wedding, before Remington burst into tears at the reception. The way Andy is looking at Remington makes his heart melt every time he sees the photo. Andy really fucking adores him. But then it dawns on him, again, that Andy isn't going to be home for months, and he rubs his eyes, turning away from the fridge and leaving the kitchen. He decides he's going to call Andy.

He sits on their bed and waits for the man to answer. "Hello, sweetheart," the familiar voice fills his head. It's like a breath of fresh air.

"Hi," Remington says into the phone, "I miss you."

"I miss you too, baby. How was therapy today?"

It's such a good feeling when Andy asks him things about his day like this, because it means that he cares enough to memorise appointments and things. "It was okay. Abi's given me things to help with eating. I wish you were here. How are you?"

Andy is in his bunk. It's past midnight where they are. "I'm glad you're okay, princess. Everything's going well here, apart from the bus breaking down yesterday." He looks down at his wedding ring and smiles. They may be far away physically, but emotionally they're always with eachother.

"Don't get me started on buses breaking down. I could rant about that for hours." A cup of tea is given to him from Sebastian and he thanks him quietly.

The Rockstar is happy to hear Remington cheerful, and even though he knows it's tough for Remington to be apart, it is reassuring to know that his boy is managing. "I will happily let you rant about anything for hours," Andy says, and he can imagine Remington blushing, or grinning, or both. "There were lots of people in Palaye shirts tonight and three people in VIP asked me how you were." He only says this because it'll give Remington hope for his band. There are still so many people who adore Palaye Royale, and it's just a shame that the mean comments made it impossible for Remington to see any positivity, when, in reality, there is so much.

The boy is happy to hear this. He sips the tea and puts it down on the table by the bed. "I saw someone wearing an Andy Black shirt today," he says.

"Really?"

Remington giggles. "Yeah. When I looked in the mirror." His comment makes Andy laugh.

"Where'd you find and Andy Black shirt?" The man asks.

"In the wardrobe. It's too big, but then everything is too big." He looks down at the shirt hanging on his thin frame and frowns. It confuses him how he has such a hard time eating but doesn't even like being so skinny. What the fuck is wrong with him? "Thanks for leaving your red hoodie. It's my favourite one."

Andy hums. "I know it is, that's why I left it, and you look so fucking cute wearing it."

Picking up the tea and standing up, Remington whines at the compliment. He never knows how to respond to being complimented. "No," he protests, stepping down the stairs.

"Yes. You're fucking adorable."

"No."

"If you keep disagreeing then we're going to have a problem," Andy jokes.

Sebastian is in the living room, and Remington joins him. "If you keep calling me cute we're going to have a problem," he retorts, "but actually don't stop because I like it."

Andy swears his heart melts into the bed at his husband's words. "I know you do. I love you, baby boy, I should go to bed."

"Okay. Goodnight. I love you." The boy puts his phone in his pocket once Andy has hung up, and finishes off the tea. He tries to steal the remote from his brother, but ends up on the floor in a fit of giggles. Sebastian pulls him off the ground and inwardly cringes at the feeling of Remington's bony hands in his. It feels like he could break his fingers just y holding his hands too tightly.