Help Me (sequel to Save Me)

Chapter 153

Trigger warning

"I don't have any!" Remington yells, after being asked twice where the diet pills are. "I'm not fucking lying, Andy! I don't have any!"

"Remington, calm down. Let's just talk about this, okay?"

The boy kicks the wall. "No! Because there's nothing to fucking talk about! I don't have any diet pills! I want some but I don't have any!"

Andy sighs. "Look, I-"

"You don't beleive me! You're all like oh I support you, but that's bullshit! You don't fucking believe me about anything!"

"Remington, come on-"

He kicks the wall again. "Shut up! I'm not fucking taking any fucking pills, Andy! Why is that so hard to believe?" He shoves Andy away. "How many times do I have to say it? I'm not taking any fucking diet pill!"

Sebastian comes up behind Remington. "What the fuck is going on?" He asks, and Remington jumps, not expecting a voice from behind him.

The boy yepls and a hand automatically flies up to protect his face. "Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attck?" He asks sharply, on edge.

"I'm sorry, I thought you knew I was there."

"Oh yeah, with the eyes in the back of my head that I don't have!"

"Why are you so mad?"

Remington shakes his head. "Why are you so annoying?"

"We need to talk about this, Remington," Andy tries.

"You need to piss off!"

"Is anyone gonna fill me in?" The guitarist asks, wondering what the hell is causing Remington to shout like this.

"Why is everyone ganging up on me?" Remington snaps, "what the fuck have I done wrong?"

Sebastian looks at Andy for a moment. "No one's ganging up on you."

The boy pulls his sleeves down over his hands. "No? Oh so let me guess? I'm overreacting then, am I? Just like I overreacted everytime Holly hurt me? Great!"

"Re-"

"No! Shut up! Because I know what you're gonna say! Some shit about how none of that was my fault. Well, Andy, what if it was my fault, hmm? Ever thought about that? Ever thought about how maybe your perfect, fragile husband isn't so perfect after all?"

"I'm sorry, but what the hell is going on?" A voice asks from down the hall, and they turn to see Emerson, who's been listening to Remington shout for the past thirty seconds.

Remington laughs dryly. "Oh look! Another person to gang up on me! Come and join the fun, Emerson! You can call me a liar and laugh at me for getting mad because I'M NOT TAKING DIET PILLS!"

"Who the fuck said anything about diet pills?" Sebastian questions, "are you taking diet pills?" He looks at Remington, waiting for an answer.

"NO!" Remington screams.

"Jesus, your voice sounds rough."

"MAYBE BECAUSE YOU MADE ME COME ON THIS FUCKING TOUR WHEN I SAID I WASN'T READY AND MAYBE THAT'S WHY I KEEP TAKING DIET PILLS BECAUSE I HATE MYSELF AND I WANNA DIE AND I'M A FUCKING TWENTY FIVE!" He kicks the wall as he yells the last word.

"We're meant to be outside," Emerson says, approaching the men.

Remington glares at his younger brother. "I'LL GO OUTSIDE!" He screams, "AND WAIT FOR A FUCKING CAR TO HIT ME!"

"Hold on, did you say twenty five?" Andy asks, getting excendingly worried.

"YES! TWENTY FUCKING FIVE! IS THAT OKAY? DO YOU WANT IT IN WRITING?"

"Remington, honey, come and sit down."

The boy shakes his head. "I don't want to sit down!" He argues, feeling cornered with how they're surrounding him. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Well what do you want to do, sweetie?"

"I want you to piss off!" He shoves past them and storms off, kicking the fire exit open and disappearing outside.

"He's taking diet pills?" Sebastian asks, looking at Andy.

The man shakes his head and sighs. "I dont even know at this point."

Remington sits behind the venue against the wall, away from fans, and puts his head in his hands. He knows that he shouldn't have got so defensive and so angry, but he feels so fucking stupid for buying more fucking pills, and for not telling anyone. It makes him feel so useless. He runs his hands over his face, hoping that maybe he'll just disappear, that when he takes his hands away he's in some other universe, away from all this shit that keeps happening. No anorxia, no depression, no awful fear of what's coming next, no nightmares. No Holly. Nothing. He wants to go where there is nothing.

He knows he can't just sit here and wait for someone to shoot him, but he isn't really sure what to do now. He screamed at his brothers and his husband and why the fuck would they want to help him now?

For a few minutes, he sits with his head in his hands, until there's a gentle hand on his shoulder and he looks up. "I'm sorry, Sebby," he says.

"Are you really taking diet pills again?"

"No!"

"Rem-"

"I'm fucking not, okay? Shut up about it!"

Except he is.