Kinda trigger warning.
Remington is glad to be in Abigail's house after not being able to see her previously. He kicks his shoes off and hands her the notebook, where he's been keeping a record of what he has and hasn't been managing to eat.

"I'm sorry I had to cancel," she says, flipping through to the recent pages.

The boy sits back on the couch. "It's okay. Me and Andy video called for a few hours."

Abigail is happy to hear that. "That's good. I see he makes you feel better." She reads the last few pages of the book. "How are you feeling about gaining weight?"

Remington stiffens. "Scared," he replies, "I want to be healthy but I just-I feel fat." It's a blunt way to put it, but he doesn't care.

"That's normal," Abigail reassures, skimming over his writing.

"I know, and I know that I'm not fat, but every time I eat I just feel so disgusting."

The woman hands the book back. "You've been sticking to the times for eating, yeah?"

"Mostly."

"Okay, great. From what you've written, it seems your doing really well, and there are no mentions of purging. Is that because you haven't done it or because you don't want to admit that you've done it?"

Remington looks at her, proud of what he can tell her. "Haven't done it."

It's a nice surprise for Abigail to hear him say this. "How have you been resisting it?" She really is so impressed at how he hasn't given up.

"I tell Sebastian that I want to do it and he makes sure I don't. We have movie nights when it's bad and he makes popcorn." Remington thinks back to two nights ago, when he had made the mistake of looking at himself in the mirror after having a shower, and ended crying on the bathroom floor until Sebastian picked him up and wrapped him in a blanket. They put on Bridget Jones' Diary and shared a bowl of popcorn, and as usual, Remington fell asleep in his brother's lap.

Abigail smiles. "That's great. You're handling it really well, Remington. Keep writing down what you're eating and stick to the times for meals, okay? It seems to be doing you good to have a bit of a schedule."

The boy nods. "It makes it feel easier," he says, "I just wish I knew how to handle missing Andy. I keep crying because he's not here and it sucks." He looks down at his hands, at the wedding ring, which reminds him that Andy is always there, if not in person, in mind. Always there.

"It's okay to miss him, Remington, it'd be odd if you didn't. You two are in love and being apart for so long is hard. There's nothing wrong with crying because you miss him."

Sighing and twisting the ring around, Remington doesn't look up. "It's just weird, you know, because I thought-I thought I'd never be able to trust anyone again after Holly and now-now I'm crying over my husband. It's scary, sometimes, to think about. I was-I was nearly killed by someone who I trusted to begin with and now I'm married and I just-I guess I'm just paranoid. Like-I know Andy would never hurt me, but Holly fucked me up in so many ways and sometimes I think about her and I wonder how the fuck I let myself love after everything she did." Abigail finds it interesting, but also sad, how different Remington is in interviews than he is here, when there's no pressure to live up to the public's expectations. He seems like a different person. It's funny what being famous can do.

"The fact that you've come out of an abusive relationship and not closed your heart off to everyone is such a strong thing to do. Your experience with Holly could have ruined your chance of ever finding love, but you didn't let it, and it's okay to feel scared about it sometimes." She recalls an interview she saw not long ago, where it was Remington and an interviewer. She had asked him some really inappropriate and disrespectful questions, basically asking whether he slept around and if he'd ever kiss a guy. Obviously she hadn't done any research because he had come out as gay prior to that interview. Abigail could see he was uncomfortable, and was aware that she was picking up things that no one else would see because she's his therapist and she knows how he acts in certain situations. He was sitting on his hands, which she knew was to stop him scratching his wrists, and laughed off the question.

'You're being very stereotypical,' he had said, 'just because I'm in a rock bad doesn't make me a whore. I'm gay, actually, and engaged. So yes, I'd happily kiss a guy, if that guy was my fiancé.'

Abigail thought it was a very good response to her offensive questions. She is always impressed at how well all three of the brothers handle rude interviewers.

Remington looks up. "I think the distance is getting to me more than I expected. I knew it would be hard, I just didn't know it'd be this fucking hard."

At home, after therapy, Remington finds Sebastian and Emerson in the garden messing around with a pack of cards. "I'm a magician!" Sebastian announces to his brother, who raises an eyebrow.

"Go on then," the singer encourages, "do a trick."

Sebastian gathers the cards. "I will. You just wait. This is gonna blow your socks off."

Laughing and sitting on the grass beside Emerson, Remington watches their older brother intently. "I'm not wearing socks."

"Shut up. Pick a card."

The boy does, and shows Emerson what it is. "What now?"

"Give it back, here," Sebastian demands, waiting for Remington to place the card face down on top of the other cards. "Is this your card?" He picks up the one Remington just put down, and the three of them burst into laughter.

"You're a fucking idiot," Emerson laughs, hitting his arm.

Remington pulls the cards from Sebastian. "I've got a game!"

"What?"

The boy giggles. "52 card pick-up," he says, and throws the card onto the grass. "Have fun. I'm getting my book."

The drummer is laughing and Sebastian is smiling, watching the young man disappear inside. "Love you!" He shouts after him, and Remington turns around, grinning.

"Love you, too!" He calls back, blowing a kiss. "That was for Emerson."

Sebastian rolls his eyes and kneels on the grass, picking up cards. "It's been tough," he says to Emerson.

The younger hands him some cards. "He doesn't look so skinny, at least."

Nodding and putting the cards away, Sebastian sits on the grass. "He has bad days, Em, really bad days. Sometimes he cries so much he can't breathe. Other days he just doesn't do anything. He begs for Andy and bursts into tears if I'm not hugging him. And then some days he's like he is today. There's no in-between. He's either crying all day or he isn't."

Emerson sighs.