A quick note about the wording of this book, I'm not going to be writing all of the scenes with Emerson's self-harm, so sometimes it will be not mentioned, but when there is mention of him having a shower, it means he is going to self-harm and then shower. Also, even though the dreams are an antagonist within the story, I'm not writing each and every one of them, its the same dream and there is a summary of the dream. I'm not writing the dream because it's not really relevant for Emerson to be thinking about the entirety of the dream, he's lived it over a hundred times, I'm only writing about new parts of the dream. However, there will be a rewritten version of the dream from the beginning because there will be changes.

Might be triggering near the end.

***
Once again Emerson was lay awake, not even the usual comfort of Netflix could bring him peace. He had been lay on his bed for the past hour just staring at the roof of his bunk. His curtain was drawn, but streams of the now rising sun were coming through into the small confined space. It was only 5am in the morning, but the late June sun was making a guest appearance in the small bus.

He flipped over, away from the direction of the sunlight. It still wasn't working, he could still see the beams of light hit the wall that he was staring at. His mind wondered to what would happen if he got too close to the sun, metaphorically, of course, he knew there was no chance of him literally going to the sun. The sun in Emerson's scenario was death; the cut that was too deep. He had no intentions of dying, not for the will of himself, but out of love for his brothers and spite. Staying alive meant that she didn't win; also staying alive spited all the thoughts that tried to convince him to press a little harder.

Neither one of his brothers would be up anytime soon. Any other time he would suggest a Netflix binge of awful films on Netflix, or shows. But they were asleep, and he was alone.

Being alone wasn't unusual for Emerson, he was always alone; it was a consequence of hiding in his own thoughts. Even in a crowded stadium playing for all of Remington and Sebastian's fans, he was still alone. No thought passed through his head that didn't remind him of this fact.

Grabbing his laptop, he slid out of the bunk as quietly as he could, just because Remington and Sebastian were asleep didn't mean he had to wake them. His brain was wide awake, and staying in that faux darkness would drive him insane, so he decided to do something, and that something was sitting on the sofa in the living space, watching Netflix.

He had been watching Netflix for 20 minutes when he heard to rings of a curtain scrape along the pole, a telling sign that someone else was awake. He didn't turn around, he didn't need to, and they were probably just going to the bathroom. Curiosity peaked when he didn't hear feet touch the ground, nor did he hear the bathroom door open.

What he did hear though, was light footsteps approaching him. They were too light to be any of his brothers, so he deduced that they belonged to the new tour photographer who was now living in the bus with them as they started a new tour.

This time he did turn to greet her, pausing the episode of the latest Netflix show he was watching before twisting the top half of his boy 90° to look at her. She was wearing a long T-shirt and her wide open eyes made it seem like she wasn't even a bit tired, but the noticeable dark shadows tattooed under her eyes suggested otherwise.

Emerson, lowered the laptop screen, placing it by his side on the sofa, before turning the rest of his body to the same angle his top half was. "Did I wake you?" she shook her head, telling him that he hadn't. He hadn't spoken to her much, at all in fact. After the mishap earlier he had invested himself into making his brothers think he was alright and had paid no mind to the photographer that was joining them on tour. In hindsight, he had been fairly rude to her, not verbally, but he had avoided all attempts at keeping a conversation going, replying to all her attempts with facial expressions, and body movements.

He hadn't intentionally been mean to her, he was just shaken up after the dream. He hadn't realised that his subconscious was so intent on hurting him. He wasn't even sure if it was the residual waste from the relationship or his body paying him back for feeling.

She sat on the couch opposite him whilst a silence once again filled the air around them. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but it wasn't exactly comfortable. It was moderately comfortable. Neither one of them knew what to say or do, how could they? They hadn't exchanged enough words to be completely comfortable with each other. The only reason she had a higher word count was because she had rambled when they accidentally bumped into each other.

"So, you're the youngest right? -She waited for him to nod in confirmation before continuing to speak, and once he did, she took it as the cue to continue- did you get into music because of your brothers? Or was it because of something else?" she was trying to make conversation again, it's not that Emerson wanted to ignore her and sit in silence, he was just wary about the entire opposite gender now. He knew that the new photographer had good intentions and probably wouldn't hurt him like Maisie- not that he planned on letting her get close enough to have the ability- it was kind of like the dog bite effect, if that was even the name for it, people are programmed to be wary of all dogs after one bites them, no matter if that dog was previously nice.

He had sat in his own thoughts for at least five seconds and decided to answer his question, "My mom was a rock and roll photographer, not that she told us until we were in our teens, but with names like Sebastian, Emerson and Remington, it's fairly obvious she wanted to have a band. I don't know when I got into the drums, but I was taught piano from a young age so I guess you could say it was my mom that got me into music,"

She nodded and looked to the floor, and awkward rub to the neck. "So, what were you watching?" nodding her head towards his laptop that was still on at the side of him. His eyes followed hers to the white MacBook that was still on Netflix, not that she could see as he had shut the laptop slightly before he had started talking to her.

"Just Netflix, Do want to watch with me?" he opened his laptop to show the episode he was up to. He had only started the series one or two days ago but he was already on season two of A series of unfortunate events. She nodded as a response to his question and so Emerson set his laptop at the end of the sofa he was sat on and faced it so they could both watch.

It was around 7 am when they eventually paused it, both needing a stretch after being sat in the same position for over an hour and a half. Neither of them had spoken in that period of time, but in a weird way, they didn't need to. It was kind of like a mutual agreement to not speak to each other. Emerson liked it. He didn't feel stressed to continue a conversation that he had no interest in.

Even though he had been up since yesterday afternoon he still wasn't tired, well he was, but the thought wasn't at the front of his mind like people would expect, especially since he had only had a collective eight hours sleep over the course of the last 15 days, barely getting half an hour a night, some nights not even that. The dream was haunting him, and it was affecting his life in the waking hours.

Emerson was sat on the couch after stretching out when he heard the photographer's voice ask him a question, "Have you been here before? This city I mean?" to disinterested to speak he nodded his head as a reply, he knew it was still rude, but he didn't even know her name, neither one of his brothers had told him nor had they said it in his presence. She continued speaking as if his constant silent responses didn't bother her, "So do you think you can be my tour guide? I've never been here and I think a little fresh air is needed after being cooped up on that sofa for the last hour and a half, so what do you say?"

He didn't know how he ended up saying yes, but he did. So here he was, getting dressed in the bathroom to avoid her, or anyone else seeing the hate all over his skin, he had passed it off as him giving her some privacy to change whilst he brushed his teeth, but in actual fact he was ashamed of someone he didn't even know seeing his weakness.

Walking out of the bathroom he expected one of his brothers to be up, after all, they hadn't been that quiet, especially her. He had heard her getting dressed and muttering to herself even whilst he was in the bathroom with the door shut.

She hadn't dressed for the day, mainly just for the purpose of not going out in public in the top, she was in a few minutes earlier. She wasn't even sure if the grey T-shirt that she had paired with the black sweatpants even looked right together, but she didn't care. It didn't bother her that she most likely looked like a hobo, but when Emerson walked out of the bathroom in today's outfit she knew there was going to have to be a slight change.

Rather than finding a new outfit or even a new top, she just tied the front of the grey T-shirt into a knot. She didn't have the patience to find a new outfit, as well as the fact that she was sure that Emerson probably wouldn't want to go back into the bathroom whilst she changed once again. A few seconds passed before either one of them did anything, both of them stood there not moving.

Only moving when the sound of someone else in the bus rolling over in their bunk knocked them out of their silent trance. The photographer grabbed a pair of white vans from her bunk and slipped them on before following Emerson out of the door.

Silence followed them out of the bus, and neither one of them spoke for a good few minutes, until Emerson's sheer curiosity outweighed everything else in his mind, "What's your name?" the question caught the photographer off guard because of the unnatural nature of it, but then she realised she hadn't actually told him her name, she had just presumed that Remington or Sebastian had done it.

She gave a small smile and turned to look at him, "It's Codie, Codie Williams. Please don't ask my middle names, I don't like them," she wasn't sure if they were making progress. Making friends had always been so easy for her and she hadn't yet experienced this amount of awkwardness with another human.

The morning was warm, and the English air was washing over them in serene waves. Despite both of them having misjudged what the weather was going to be like and had overdressed, it was nice, them not having to cuddle into themselves to preserve body heat.

Once again, they didn't say one word to each other, and Codie felt like she was going round in circles, she wanted to be his friend, even though he intimidated her, she just wanted to be his friends. Apparently, though, he didn't want to be her friend. She knew not everyone in the world wanted to be her friend, her mother had told her so many times as a child. She hadn't said it maliciously, she was just trying to excuse people's rude behaviour to the outgoing girl.

No conversation was exchanged between them, just Emerson's voice pointing out places and living up to his tour guide status that had been dubbed upon him when he agreed to take a walk with her. Emerson was walking peacefully when he stopped. His eyes must have been fooling him, playing a sick joke on him, because there was no way she was here in England. It couldn't be possible, fate wasn't usually this mean.

Yet, there she stood. The girl that broke his heart stood no more than 30ft in front of him; unsurprisingly, and in some ironic twist of fate, she was too busy with another man to see him. In his internal turmoil, he forgot about the photographer who was stood a few steps in front, having stopped after him.

Before she or he could even exchange words, Maisie turned and saw them. Emerson turned heel and headed back to the bus, leaving the stunned photographer who followed in a state of confusion. Lucky for Emerson, Maisie didn't seem keen on starting a conversation, but she was very intent on showing Emerson a live action of what she had been doing behind his back. The man that Maisie was with had been a frequent guest in the pictures that surfaced, and it only stung more.

The drummer's steps were double the length that they were before, he was trying to get back to the bus before he broke down in front of the whole world. Just as they reached the bus, Emerson turned to Codie. "Please can I borrow your phone?" stopping in her tracks before she bumped into the man for a second time in the past 24 hours, she recalled the question on loop in her head.

He had said no more than 20 words to her- not counting before when he was pointing out places, as that was more to fill a role he had been assigned- and he wanted to borrow her phone. The thing that held all things dear to her. He was looking at her expectantly, almost as if it was her duty to let him borrow her phone.

Despite all this and against her own better judgement, she found herself passing over the phone. After a few moments, Emerson silently passed her the phone back and headed into the bus. She caught sight of him heading towards the bathroom, having walked straight past his brothers who were now awake and just as confused as Codie.

They were quick to turn on her, and any other time she would have argued back, but she knew how it looked. They had both been gone, Emerson comes back and practically stormed off into the bathroom. Paired with their lack of conversation yesterday and it was a recipe for one hell of a large jump to the wrong conclusion.

"What did you do? We've been sat here for 20 minutes wondering where the hell you both were and when you come back, you've upset our brother!" Remington's accusing words stuck out the most, and he wasn't wrong. She wasn't sure how or if she could defend herself, after all, she didn't even know what happened. His mood had done a 180 whilst they were out walking and getting fresh air.

Unbeknownst to all of them, Emerson was slicing his skin in the bathroom listening to the accusing words being thrown at the poor girl, he wanted nothing more than to go and help her but he couldn't. He was too numb to focus on anyone else at the moment.

The onslaught of questions hit Codie at such a speed that she couldn't answer them and just stood there. Each question got more and more accusing, and she couldn't handle it. She wasn't sure if she would have the strength to speak anymore, this was one of her deepest fears, people she was growing close to turning on her. Her voice was no more than a whisper, but she managed to utter the words, "I- I don't, I don't know" despite the words being no louder than the buzzing of a fly, it was still noticeable in the tense room.

The questions stopped, and she found a few stray tears falling slowly down her cheeks. This wasn't her at all, she was usually strong in these kinds of situations, but standing here, before 2 men who were just under a foot taller than her, firing concerned questions about their brother made her weak. Remington began pacing whilst Sebastian stood still, staring at the small photographer. Before she could speak, Remington made a move to go to the bathroom to speak to his brother, but Sebastian's voice stopped him "What do you mean? Tell us what happened," His calm voice soothed her and slowed the scarce tears to a stop.

Sitting on the couch, she began explaining the events to the best of her knowledge, not deeming the woman they saw important enough to include, "...and when he got to the door of the bus he asked to use my phone, I don't know why. Once he passed it back to me, he stormed in here and went to the bathroom," The two brothers nodded, having both, through the course of the story, sat down on the sofa opposite her.

"What did he use your phone for?" the question stumped Codie, she didn't have a clue, she had come in when Emerson came In so she didn't get the chance to look at what he had been so keen on using her phone for. Even though she was sure he would have deleted what he used her phone for, she still found herself pulling out her phone to look.

She didn't have to look far, he hadn't even closed the app that he was on. Her phone now revealed the Instagram page of a drop dead gorgeous woman, who she found somewhat familiar. Then it clicked, this was the woman that they had seen today. "Wait, I recognise her" her sentence confused Sebastian and Remington who were still on the couch opposite awaiting some enlightenment into what was wrong with their brother.

She passed her phone over showing the Instagram account of someone they never thought they'd have to deal with again. Confusion and tension filled the air on both sides of the room. Codie was confused about the whole situation, whilst the other two men were confused as to how she knew Emerson's ex, AKA Satan. They wanted to know, but at the same time, didn't know how to word it. "How- Sebastian looked to Remington who was now glaring at Codie, most likely believing that she was in some plot with Maisie to tear Emerson down even more- How do you know Maisie?"

"We saw her before when we were going getting fresh air. Come to think of it, it was when we saw her that Emerson's mood changed. She was with some man, they looked like a couple. Her most recent picture is with the guy she was with. Wait, is she why Emerson's mood changed" The utterance of the sentence caused a very long string of curse words to escape both Sebastian and Remington's mouth. Remington's however, were far more creative than Sebastian's generic curses.

Both of them stood, now even more worried for Emerson, he had seen the woman who had broken his heart in one of the most pernicious ways. Remington had moved all of five steps before falling into a crouch with his head in his hands, still spurting curses- all of them different to the last and varying in effect. Sebastian though, Sebastian stood still, both of his hands holding the back of his neck whilst his face was contorted into worry and pain.

Time stood still. Codie was confused; Sebastian was still stood looking pained; Remington still had his head in his hands in the crouching position, and Emerson was in the bathroom leaning against the wall staring at the lines painted on his once clear skin. None of them knew what was happening on the other side of the door.

Remington's brain had frozen over and wasn't producing an appropriate response to the new news. His urge to protect his brother was the only thing in his mind, but this was one thing that he couldn't protect him from, she wasn't some big bad bully that had beaten him up after school; she was his ex, his lying, cheating, manipulative, emotional vampire of an ex. He couldn't save him from her as much as he would like to.

But he could sit there with him and tell him that it was going to get better. Yeah, sure Emerson and Maisie had been broken up four months, but Emerson was the kind of person that loved with all of his heart and more, even when he was at rock bottom, this wasn't something he would be able to get over for a while.

He rose from the position he had been in and headed towards the bathroom door, ignoring Sebastian and Codie's curious looks. Even though he knew it would be locked, he still tried the door, a tiny sliver of hope shining through the darkness that now clouded every one of his thoughts. As expected, the door was locked and he heard his brother's voice on the other side telling him to go away.

Emerson wanted to be alone, he didn't know who was trying to get into the bathroom, but he lacked all motivation to move, and hadn't even bothered to clean the blood from the floor, nor had he cleaned up the fresh wounds that were spread on his arms, the majority being on his left arm. He had only moved away from the puddle of blood, to next to the bathroom door. He could see the shadow outside the bathroom and heard the pained voice of his brother plead with him to open the door.

Even if he had wanted to open the door and fall into his brother's comforting arms, he just didn't have the physical strength. He hadn't eaten yet today and he had lost a fair amount of blood from the numerous amount of cuts he had just made.

After a few seconds of not responding, he heard a noise. It only lasted a few seconds but from the shadow under the door, he could tell that Remington had sat down next to the door, mirroring the way Emerson was sat. He continued to beg his younger brother to let him in or to at least come out; all that he was getting as a reply was 'Go away' or 'no' but he could hear the fatigue in his brothers voice and just wanted to go in there and hold him tight whilst he slept and keep the nightmares away.

Once again, Emerson didn't think that Remington knew about the nightmares, but he did. He had woken every time he gasped awake and cried silently. His heart had yearned to get out of bed to comfort his brother, but every time, Emerson had escaped to the bathroom before the singer could get out of bed and hold him.

On the other side of the room, Sebastian and Codie watched the scene unfold, silent tears falling down Sebastian's cheeks as he watched his younger brother sat outside of the bathroom door crying and pleading for their youngest brother to open the door and let him in. She knew it wasn't the right time, but her mind was pleading with her to ask the burning question. "Who is Maisie?"

Sebastian turned to her, he knew he should be angry at her for prying into personal business, but he only felt one thing, and that was thankful. He was thankful for her voice being a distraction and for pulling his attention away from the heart-breaking scene that was unfolding between his brothers. "Maisie was- he shook his head, clearing away the sentence that he was going to say- Maisie is Emerson's ex, and as you can see things didn't end well and Emerson ended up getting hurt more than her"

A small amount of clarity washed over Codie as she became more informed about what was currently unravelling before her very eyes. She knew that wasn't the whole story, she didn't know what was the whole story, but she knew what she had been told was only the tip of the ice-burg and that under the sharp and choppy waters that were Emerson Barrett, was a very complex story that would drive any normal man insane to experience.

***

Well here it is, Chapter 2. I had initially struggled with this chapter when I had started writing, not knowing how to get the word count up, at least wanting 2000 words, but I did more than that in the end, this chapter is 4072 words (according to my word count on word document). It is 5 am in the morning here in England and I am tired as fuck. I wanted this chapter to be done within 2 days, and I finished it. I wrote far more words today than I did yesterday and it will probably be a thing that the first 1000 words don't flow smoothly and the end of the chapter doesn't either, but here it is.