Sebastian and Larisa moved into their new house the same week that protests started, and Remington was grateful for the distraction that it gave him from the fast-approaching termination of his and Andy's marriage. He helped them choose furniture and carry boxes inside, groaning when Sebastian pulled him to the side and said, "You can't really be fine with what's happening." 

"No, but you don't need to remind me," Remington huffed. "It's happening either way, so..." 

"So we're moving into this house to be near you, and we're gonna lose you again?" 

"Why are you saying it like it's my fault?" 

"Well, you're not doing anything to stop it." 

"What do you want me to do? Stand outside Ten Downing Street yelling for them to revoke the fucking law? Sebastian, I love you, but shut up." 

"You could be out there protesting right now." 

"So could you," Remington retorted meanly, folding his arms. "What good would protesting do? Clearly, they've made their decision, and it doesn't matter to them whether we like it or not. Can't you see that?"

"They're going to ruin your life." 

"You don't think I know that? Sebastian, I hate it. I hate it. But shouting to a bunch of middle aged cunts about my disliking of the law isn't going to do shit. I'll ruin your life right now if you don't shut that fucking mouth of yours." 

"Alright, alright. Don't take it out on me. All I'm trying to say is that, I don't know, I thought you'd put up more of a fight. But forget it. You're obviously just...never mind." 

"Just what?" Remington asked. 

"Never mind." 

"Just what, Sebastian? Just what?"

Sebastian shook his head. 

"Just what?" 

"Giving up. Remington. You're obviously just giving up. You could be doing something, anything, to fight this, to save yourself. But instead, you're just letting it happen. You're letting them do this. But you know what, it's fine. It's fine. You're gonna let them fuck you up over and over, and that's...fine. That's fine." 

"Fuck you. Carry your own shit, cunt," Remington mumbled, turning and walking out. 

He crossed town, following the sound of chanting, angry voices, slowing when he reached a crowd, and stopping completely when he realised it was a large group of paparazzi and fans shouting questions and Andy. 

As he got closer, Remington could hear Andy saying with considerable anger, "This is a threat to our nation and we must fight it! We're being pushed about like fucking nobodies, but we're not nobody! We're powerful! We can fight this, but we need to fight it together!" 

There was an influx of cheers, and Remington pushed his way through. At the front of the crowd, he caught Andy's eye, and when Andy sent him a smile, he shook his head and frowned. Andy furrowed his brows for a moment before a question was asked: "What are you plans, Mister Biersack?"

Turning his attention to the reporter, Andy shouted, "Fucking anything and everything! It doesn't matter what we do, as long as we do something! Anything! Gather your families, your friends, and join me tonight, whether it be here or across the fucking country! We're going to make so much fucking noise that they'll have no choice but to pay attention to us. No violence, just be fucking loud! Scream at them! Let everyone know who much you fucking despise this way of life! Let them know that we refuse to live like this and that everyone, everyone, deserve the freedom to marry and not marry who the fuck they want! Be so loud that they can't sleep, because why should get that luxury if they're scaring so many of us into months of insomnia? Who the fuck gave them the right?" 

Again, a rush of cheers, and this time, when Andy looked his way, Remington turned and pushed his way back through the growing crowd. He didn't stop walking until he was home, and there, he turned on the television. Sure enough, on the news, was live footage of Andy.

Remington turned it off.