EAT.

TWENTY-ONE

Trigger warning: Eating disorder, depression, suicide, anxiety

For more than an hour, Andy sleeps in Chris' lap, waking because his body is asking for hydration. He looks at his dad, still half-asleep, and mumbles a thank you before slowly getting up and going for a glass of water. The kitchen is dark. He turns on the lights and takes a glass from the cupboard, aware of a presence in the doorway. While filling the glass at the sink, he asks, "Do you know the time?" 

"Just gone nine," Chris replies. "How're you feeling?" 

Andy turns around and leans against the counter, sipping the water. He shrugs. "Pretty shit, to be honest. Needed that sleep, though." Taking a larger gulp, he circles his finger around the rim of the glass. "I don't know, things just got a little insane, you know? I didn't even realise how bad it was until you showed up. Mad what your own brain can do to you when you're sick." He shakes his head. "I should call someone in my band, let them know what's happening. Jinxx has been trying to call all evening. He'll be worried." 

"Yeah, you do that." 

"Then after, I'm going to bed." He looks at the elder. "Thank you, really. I think you and mum just saved me from a complete fucking meltdown. You've no idea how grateful I am." 

"Oh, come on, don't thank us, we're your parents and we love you. Sometimes you just need your parents, and there's nothing wrong with that. Go on, call your band. Let them know you're safe." 

Andy finishes his drink in the kitchen once Chris has gone, rinsing out the glass and leaving it on the draining board before going up to his old bedroom, where the bed has been made for him. He sits on it and looks around. He hasn't been in here for over a year, not that it's changed much. The desk has been moved and there's a pile of books by the wardrobe, but apart from that, it's the same as it has been pretty much since he left to pursue the rock-star lifestyle. 

There's something about being in his parents' house that brings comfort to Andy. Though he knows it's a temporary feeling, he'll take all he gets while it lasts. 

Jinxx answers when he calls. "Andy, man," he says. "I've been trying to reach you, is everything okay?" 

Andy lies back. "No, yeah. My parents kidnapped me. I went a little crazy on the phone with them earlier, told them everything. They came round and insisted on taking care of me, you know, until I can actually eat again." 

"You're staying with them?" 

"Yep." 

"Oh, good. That's good to hear. I'm glad you told them, and glad they're helping."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure they just saved my life by doing this. Anyway, thanks for checking up on me, I really appreciate it. You've been so much help these past weeks. I couldn't ask for a better family." 

"Yeah, man, no worries. I'll let you hang up, you sound tired. Let me know how you are tomorrow, okay? Do you want me to tell the others where you are in case they worry something's happened?" 

"Yes, please do. I'll probably call them at some point this week. It depends how many times I have a panic attack over a piece of toast. I'll talk to you tomorrow, then." 

"Have a good night, buddy." 

"Thanks again, I couldn't have gotten this far without you. Love you, Jinxx, sleep well." 

"Love you too, Biersack." 

Andy hangs up. Then he turns his phone off and undresses down to his underwear, crawling into bed without letting himself venture anywhere near a mirror. He knows better than to destroy himself like that, and not after such a positive end to the day.