Save me. (Remington Leith X Andy Biersack)

Chapter 60

I know I haven't written in here for a while. I've been so tired recently. Exhausted, actually. We've played 18 shows so far, but I've only managed to hug 23 fans. So that sucks. I know that people are suspicious of something going on. I don't jump into the crowd anymore and I would do that at every show.

Alexis scares me so much. I thought I'd be able to get over it after a while, but I haven't. She keeps asking my brothers why I'm so jumpy around her and they never tell her, so I am thankful for that. But she'll find out soon, I know she will.

I really want to go home.

Remington closes the notebook and sighs. He spoke to Abigail on the phone yesterday when they were in a hotel. He was feeling very anxious and had unpleasant memories resurfacing for obvious reasons, and was in a room with Sebastian.

"How's it going with Alexis?" She had asked him, keeping her voice soft. She has learned about how to talk to Remington to make sure he feels comfortable and safe.

The boy had shaken his head even though she couldn't see. "Honestly, not good," he answered truthfully, lying on his back. "She scares me so much."

"What goes through your mind when you see her?" The question was careful, gentle.

Remington sat up then, yawning, and answered. "I'm like; oh my god, I'm going to fucking die. And all I can think about is that she is right there. And I know Alexis isn't actually Holly, but that doesn't stop me from shaking and panicking and screaming. It isn't until Emerson or Sebastian take me in their arms and lead me away that I can calm down." He talked with ease, trusting Abigail with the sensitive information. Since she's been his therapist, she hasn't broken his trust once.

"Do you think you could tell me about the worst experience you've had with Alexis?"

The boy fills the kettle with water. "Yeah," he starts, "it was a few night ago. We were on stage. I wasn't really having a good day anyway, and I saw her out of the corner of my eye and suddenly I couldn't breathe. My head was pounding and I dropped the microphone, stumbling. Sebastian caught me before I actually fell and helped me off stage. We had to stop the show early because I was so terrified." He boils the kettle.

"You sound shaky, Remington, are you okay?" She had asked, cautious about how fragile the singer can be.

Remington poured the water into a mug with a teabag. "I'm just-I'm just tired, and we're in a hotel which is unsettling." Sebastian had turned and looked at the boy when he said this. "Thanks for talking to me," the boy said.

Abigail had smiled. "It's no problem, Remington, take care. Don't hesitate on calling me if you need to talk again."

After the call, the two brothers had cuddled up on the double bed and watched television until Remington fell asleep on Sebastian's chest.

Right now, Remington is walking around the empty venue before the show tonight, trying to calm down. He had a nasty panic attack earlier in the bus when Alexis had bumped into him, and is still on edge, worried about the show because he's heard that the security in the venue are particularly rough, and have been known to injure performers occasionally.

He twists rings around his fingers and breathes deeply, jumping when there's contact on his shoulder. The singer turns around to see Daniel. "Sorry, Remington, I didnt mean to scare you," he says.

Remington shakes his head. "It's fine," he says.

"I just came to ask if you're ready for soundcheck."

Unfortunately, security is mean on Remington. They grab him when he tries to climb up the side and the boy drops the microphone is fear, the bulky man's hand gripping his arm in such a manner that causes horrific images to flash up in Remington's mind.

He sees Holly suddenly and can't help but scream, struggling against the man, and runs off stage in tears, only just making it off before he's throwing up violently.

Sebastian abandons his guitar and rushes to his brother's side, making him sit down and drink some water. "You're not going back on," he says matter-of-factly, wiping the younger's mouth with a tissue. Remington doesn't protest. He's shaking terribly. He just nods, letting the guitarist pick him up in his arms, too shaken up to think straight. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

The boy shakes his head, though isn't sure which questions he's shaking his head to. "God, I'm sorry," he sobs, "I-I've ruined the show."

"Remington, no, stop that. You haven't ruined anything. Deep breaths, buttercup." He makes it to the bus and struggles with the door, not keen on putting the singer down. He seems to be shaking too much to stand up. Once they're in the vehicle, he lies Remington in his bunk. "I'm going to explain what's going on, alright, you try and sleep."

With a yawn, Remington kicks his shoes off. "Don't-don't tell them why I screamed," he begs, "please."

"I won't say a thing about it, sugar, now sleep. I won't be long."

While Sebastian is gone, Remington takes most of his clothes off and curls up in bed, putting his headphones on and trying to distract himself.

He's still awake when the door is opened, and listens to the footsteps of someone coming closer. "Remington, bud, you awake?" It's Sebastian.

The boy pauses his music. "m awake," he mumbles, tired. "What'd they say?"

Sebastian pulls the curtain back a little bit. "I told them that you aren't feeling well and they all seemed to understand."

"Kay," Remington murmurs, "sleep in here?" The older man nods and takes his shirt off. "Where are the others?"

"They're meeting fans. Goodnight, buttercup."

The boy yawns and is wrapped in his brother's arms. "Love you, Sebby," the shaking boy whispers.

"I love you too, precious."