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5 years before Suit

Neil watched the red and orange leaves of late autumn fall into the road as Andrew whipped around another curve in the bend. The leaves kicked up under the wheels of the Maserati, and Neil let out a content sigh. He wiggled himself into a more comfortable position in the passenger seat and tried to subtly watch Andrew out of the corner of his eye. 

The afternoon sun lit up Andrew’s hair into a faint gold, almost white, and cut across his cheekbones. His eyes were currently hidden by a pair of cheap sunglasses Neil had bought for him at their last gas station stop a few hours back. Neil had claimed they looked dashing and Andrew had insisted that he would get pink eye from them. Neil had pretended to pout at him, and Andrew had thrown them on in a huff within a few seconds. 

They had spent the last few hours in companionable silence, Andrew pointing out important landmarks on the drive to Betsy’s house. It was similar to their recent cross-country drive from Neil’s Colorado rehab facility, Neil decided. But this one was better because they didn’t have to coordinate with any of their security team for hotel stops. They could just drive. 

After being out of rehab for only a few weeks, Neil had planned on spending Thanksgiving alone. Andrew was going to visit his family, and Wymack claimed that he was going to drag Kevin away from his new producing studio. Neil hadn’t wanted to intrude on either one of their homes, but Andrew had insisted that Neil spend it with his family. 

Well, insisted was the wrong word. When Neil had told Andrew his plans, Andrew had glared angrily at him for a few moments, then informed him that Bee made the best garlic mashed potatoes and that Neil had to try them. Which was how Neil found himself making the 7 hour drive to Betsy’s house, where he would meet Andrew’s brother, Aaron, and his new wife Katelyn. Andrew had complained about Katelyn throughout Neil’s time in rehab, but the complaints had slowly lessened over the years, which led Neil to believe that Andrew liked her more than he anticipated.  

“What can I expect,” Neil said, breaking the silence. Andrew side-eyed him. Neil huffed in frustration. “It’s my first real Thanksgiving. Do you wake up early to help Betsy bake? Do you watch the Macy’s Day Parade? Do you sit around and name things you’re thankful for? Do you all dress up in turkey costumes and run the local turkey trot marathon?” 

Andrew shot him a disgusted look, and took the blow pop out of his mouth, “Did you just google ‘Thanksgiving family activities,’ or are you naturally this moronic?” He popped the blow pop back in his mouth, and Neil noticed that it had stained his lips red. 

Neil smiled sweetly at Andrew, “Just trying to ensure I adhere to your family’s Thanksgiving traditions.” 

“Just be your normal bratty self,” Andrew muttered around his candy. “None of this perfect boy next door for the press.” He popped the sucker back out of mouth and pointed it accusingly at Neil. “You left that shit behind in rehab.” 

Neil slumped, a little relieved, a little dejected. “I just don’t want to be in the way,” he muttered. 

Andrew shrugged. “You can’t be in the way. I invited you.” 

Something warm settled in Neil’s chest, and he smothered a grin in his hand, turning to watch the beginnings of a small town roll by with wide eyes. “Is this it?” 

“Yep,” Andrew popped the p. “This is where Bee wanted her home. All the way in bum fuck nowhere.” He pulled up to the seemingly one stoplight in the whole town, and looked away from Neil. Neil knew that Andrew had spent several years looking for the perfect home to buy Betsy. Andrew had written about the type of house Betsy wanted enough that Neil even knew what it was going to look like before he saw it. 

A small cottage, with a wrap-around porch, set far back enough on the property that she could see people drive up and come out to greet them. A bit of land where she could attempt to grow a garden, and a small, remote community where she could take work calls over Skype, but also have access to a fully stocked grocery store. Andrew had found the perfect house a year ago, and had gifted it to Betsy after winning his first Academy Award. 

Andrew pulled off the main road and started heading down some back roads. Neil tried not to fidget in his seat. He was anxious. Betsy was the most important person in Andrew’s life, followed closely by Aaron, and Neil was spending the next few days with them, with little to no preparation.  

Neil had never met Aaron before, but he had gathered bits and pieces of information about him over the years. Andrew was notoriously tight-lipped about his twin; mostly so the media left Aaron alone, but Neil had gleaned a few important facts. He knew that they were identical, he knew that Aaron had recently graduated medical school and was about to start his residency with Katelyn in Syracuse, he knew that Andrew had paid for most, if not all, of Aaron’s schooling and that he was secretly proud of Aaron for accomplishing his goals. 

But that was about it. Neil didn’t even know what Katelyn looked like, since Andrew had refused to send him any pictures of the wedding while he was in rehab. I’m not sending you hard copy photos in a letter, Andrew had written. I am not your summer camp pen pal. Neil had written back that technically they were pen pals and that he had quite literally spent the afternoon weaving friendship bracelets as a meditation activity. Andrew had refused to acknowledge that. 

Andrew pulled the car onto a gravel road, surrounded by trees and overgrown bushes. The headlights of the car flipped on in the growing twilight of the evening, and the house suddenly came into view. 

It was exactly how Andrew had described it. A pale yellow cottage with a wrap-around porch, set farther back onto the property, and there was Betsy, standing on the porch in a heavy cardigan, waving them inside. Andrew parked and Neil felt himself tense up with anxiety. There was really no going back now. 

Andrew stepped out of the car and headed towards the trunk to grab their bags. Neil stepped out and involuntarily shivered. The air was colder than he had expected. 

“Come inside,” Betsy called from the porch. “It’s too cold to be out here.” Andrew made his way across the yard, and Neil dutifully followed behind. The warmth of the house was almost shocking after the cold of the evening. The house smelled of apples and cinnamon; Neil assumed that if he had ever had a real loving home, this may have been what it felt like. Walking into a warm home after a cold and long drive; he made a mental note to write that down later. Maybe he could use it in a song. 

Andrew gave Betsy a brief hug after she opened her arms in a silent invitation. Neil tried to make himself a little more invisible, but Betsy caught him shying away. “Andrew, why don’t you show Neil where he’ll be sleeping, then you can both come back downstairs and I can feed you dinner.” 

“Aaron and Katelyn,” Andrew questioned. 

“Already sleeping,” Betsy explained. She waved off Andrew’s incredulous look, “Katelyn’s been on the night shift for the past month, and Aaron has been in the emergency room. I think they’ll be feeling more awake tomorrow morning.” 

Andrew shrugged, lifted his and Neil’s bags, and began heading up the stairs. Betsy gave Neil one last smile, and headed into the kitchen. Neil hesitated a moment, and then followed Andrew up the stairs. Photos lined the stairway of various picturesque nature views; Betsy was in a few of them, and a younger Andrew and Aaron were in a handful, staring blankly and glaring at the camera respectively. Neil decided to come back and investigate more thoroughly in the morning when there was better light. Maybe even take a photo of young Andrew for himself. 

Andrew opened the third doorway in the hallway, and gestured for Neil to go inside. He tossed Neil’s bag gently onto the bed, and pointed at the bathroom. “I’m just through there, we have a shared bathroom.” A shot of relief curled through Neil’s chest; logically, he knew he was safe here. His new head of security, Stephen, had done a full background check on Betsy Dobson and the town before Neil left. Everything had checked out, but he was still grateful Andrew would be so close. 

Neil took in the room as Andrew made his way through the bathroom to his own room. The room was decorated in neutral creams and blues, the bed was covered in a very fluffy navy comforter and had a sturdy iron headboard. All in all, very unassuming. Neil sat down on the bed, and dug out his phone charger. He plugged in his phone, which flickered at him, indicating that it had died at some point on the drive. 

Andrew came to collect him and the pair made their way back downstairs. Betsy was ladling soup into two bowls and there were thick cuts of bread on the table already. She smiled at them over her shoulder, and placed the bowls on the table. “I made your favorite. There should be enough for you to take back home if you want,” she said to Andrew. Andrew nodded in appreciation. The pair ate in silence for a moment, Betsy washing some dishes in the sink. 

Neil felt the growing urge to start talking and charming Betsy. At his parents’ dinner parties he had always made small talk under the watchful eye of his father. When he was younger, he had even sometimes been given a script of what to say and how to act. Who to suck up to and who to spend more time with in order to make his father look good in the eyes of the public. Neil was about to open his mouth, a smile slipping onto his face when-

“Andrew, did I tell you about the latest drama with the gardening center?” 

Neil snapped his mouth shut as Betsy interrupted his spiraling. Andrew perked up, and Neil side eyed him in disbelief. “Did Lisa finally lose her shit at Mark’s decision to plant petunias in the middle of fall,” Andrew asked in an even tone, but Neil saw the excited gleam in his eye. 

“Yes,” Betsy turned around to grin at him. “She let him have it.” Andrew looked pleased. “And,” Betsy continued mischievously, “She let him have it during the town’s Fall Harvest Festival,” she paused for dramatic effect, “in front of everyone. ” 

“Nice,” Andrew said in an approving tone. “Mark doesn’t know fuck about petunias.” 

“I would have to agree with you,” Betsy sighed, taking a seat across from them. 

“Tell me what happened,” Andrew prompted, and tore off a piece of bread to dip into his soup. 

“Oh,” Betsy said, “I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Maybe at the town meeting in September?” Andrew nodded in agreement, and Betsy began to delve into great detail, much to Neil’s surprise, about the flower drama of a small town. Even more surprising, was how into it Andrew seemed. Neil quietly watched as Andrew prodded and asked for as many details about the flower drama, and Betsy returned with speculations and rumors her neighbors had shared as well about the entire affair.  Andrew even threw in some of his own theories about the underlying seediness of the flower community in Betsy’s small town. By the end of it, Neil was struggling to keep his eyes open, and Betsy smiled at him apologetically. 

“Sorry, Neil,” she collected their bowls, and stood up. “How about you two run off to bed? I’ll leave these in the sink to soak, and we can deal with them in the morning.” 

Neil again felt the urge to plaster a smile on his face and insist that he could continue to sit still and listen, but one look at Andrew’s face dissuaded him from that idea. “Thank you,” he said quietly. He stood up and made his way to the stairs; he glanced behind when he realized Andrew wasn’t following him. He saw Betsy and Andrew standing by the sink, Andrew leaning gently against Betsy’s side, as she murmured something softly to him. The feeling that he was intruding overcame Neil and he hurried up the stairs to his room. 

—-- 

Tapping on Neil’s door made his eyes shoot open. He tensed silently under the comforter, and quickly realized that the tapping was coming from the shared bathroom door with Andrew. He relaxed, sat up and then called out, “Andrew?” The bathroom door creaked open and Andrew stood there. Neil eyed him suspiciously. “How long have you been awake?” Andrew looked relatively awake, in black joggers and an old cast sweatshirt from one of his movies. 

Andrew shrugged, “Hour or so. We have to start preparing the turkey and pies fairly early.” 

A jolt of unease rippled through Neil and he tumbled off the bed, “Sorry, let me get dressed and I can help.” He began to rummage around in his duffle when Andrew stomped over. He nudged Neil’s duffle out of his hands with his foot and Neil looked up at him angrily. 

Andrew knelt down next to him. “Neil, do you know how to cook?” 

Neil scowled, “Well no, but-” 

Andrew continued in fake surprise, “Oh, so you can bake then?” 

“No, but, I can’t just-” 

“No, you’re going to sit and relax and calm down,” Andrew instructed. “I dragged you here not to force you to earn your keep. If you want to hide up here and write song lyrics, then stay up here. If you want to come downstairs and make nice with Katelyn, Aaron, and Betsy, you can do that. But do not” he poked Neil’s chest, “contort yourself into someone you are not for me.” 

Neil felt something fluttering in his chest as he looked at Andrew. The pair stared silently at each other for a few moments, voices softly echoing up the stairs. Neil cleared his throat, “I’ve never been allowed to just,” he struggled for the right word, “be.” Andrew snorted. Neil glared at him. 

“Well,” Andrew stood up, “now you can just be, Neil.” He offered Neil his hand to help him off the floor, and Neil took it gratefully, allowing Andrew to pull him up. He allowed himself a few moments of tracing the lines of Andrew's face; his eyebrows, down his cheekbones, then sweeping over his jawline. 

“I’ll be down in a few minutes then,” he said, and Andrew released his hand. He watched as Andrew made his way out of Neil’s room, heading down the stairs. Neil quickly showered, and got dressed, and made his way down into the kitchen. 

A young woman with bright orange hair was sitting at the kitchen table, watching closely as Betsy smothered a giant turkey in butter and seasonings. Andrew had his back to Neil and appeared to be making a third pie. Neil wondered if they expected five people to really eat all this much food. The woman turned her head, saw him, and smiled, “Good morning! I’m Katelyn,” she reached out her hand and Neil took it hesitantly. 

“I’m Neil,” he realized that was the first time he had introduced himself to someone in a long time. Most people knew who he was and immediately started fawning over him. He liked this better. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Katelyn said warmly. She stood up and moved around the kitchen with a familiar ease, “Do you want anything? Coffee? Toast?”

“Coffee would be good,” he replied, sitting in the chair closest to Andrew. 

“Toast too,” Andrew informed him, without looking away from the apple he was peeling. “We aren’t eating until 4.” 

Katelyn grinned and pointed out where the toaster was to Neil as she passed him a cup of coffee. She returned to her seat, and continued her conversation with Betsy. Neil sat quietly, letting the words wash over him, watching Andrew peel and dice apples. 

A few minutes later, Aaron made his way down the stairs. He dropped a kiss on Katelyn’s head and made his way to the coffee pot. “Are you Neil,” he asked bluntly and Katelyn shot him a look. 

“Obviously,” Neil shot back. Aaron narrowed his eyes at him, and sipped his coffee instead of a response. Neil caught Andrew watching them, and a feeling of unease trickled through him. Andrew would never say it, but Aaron was the most important person in his life. Did he need to earn Aaron’s approval?  Andrew had said that Neil could be whoever he wanted to be around him, but Neil wanted to be the person who fit in with Andrew’s family. 

“Neil, do you watch the Macy’s Day Parade,” Betsy asked suddenly. Neil tried to shoot Andrew a furious look, but Andrew firmly ignored him. 

“No,” Neil reluctantly answered, and Katelyn’s eyes lit up. 

“You should watch it with Aaron and I,” she told Neil. “Neither one of us can cook, so Betsy and Andrew end up banning us from the kitchen anyway,” she added conspiratorially. She stood up and Aaron followed her into the living room, casting a sideways look at Neil. Betsy followed them to the living room, and Neil glanced hopelessly up at Andrew, who rolled his eyes. 

“You might like it,” Andrew conceded. “A bunch of musical artists perform songs on floats, and there are giant balloons.” Neil looked at him with even more confusion. “How were you never in the Macy’s Day Parade,” demanded Andrew. 

“My dad probably thought it was beneath me,” Neil muttered. “And if I was on a float for hours, there was less chance for him to control me.” Andrew minutely tensed for a moment, then forced himself to relax. “I’ll go check it out, and if I hate it, I’ll just come back in here,” Neil decided. 

Andrew snorted, “I’m not your keeper.” But he handed Neil some apple slices before he left the kitchen. 

Most of the day passes in a quiet blur, much to Neil’s surprise. He, Aaron, and Katelyn quietly watched the Macy’s Day Parade; Neil was not impressed. Then, they watched the National Dog Show, and Neil was even less impressed. At one point, Betsy came in and placed a bowl of shredded cheese on the coffee table. Neil tried to tamper down his bewildered expression, but Betsy caught him and laughed. 

“It’s for the mac and cheese casserole,” she explained. “This just prevents them from stealing the cheese I need to use.” 

“Andrew gets a bowl too,” Katelyn said, shoving some cheese into her mouth. Aaron nodded in agreement, his eyes trained on the fluffy white dog jumping hurdles. 

Later in the afternoon, Neil wandered back into the kitchen and watched as Andrew made the famous garlic mashed potatoes. Betsy hummed along to the radio in the background as she washed some of the pots and pans. Aaron and Katelyn eventually got up and started setting the table. Neil watched with a little bit of envy as Katelyn moved easily and comfortably around the kitchen and dining room. He wanted to be the person Andrew brought for every holiday. Neil had never had a best friend before Andrew, but he was determined to be a wonderful guest to ensure he stayed on Andrew’s family’s good side. 

Finally, the table was set and everything was ready. Neil braced himself for small talk and put his happy smile on his face, and was once again shocked when the table was mostly silent. Uncertainty began burrowing through Neil’s stomach, and he glanced at Andrew, who was silently tearing his turkey into small pieces. Andrew looked blankly back at him, his eyes searching Neil’s face. 

“You’ll have to forgive us, Neil,” Betsy said from the head of the table. She smiled kindly, “We’re a quiet bunch here.” 

“It’s fine,” Neil said lamely. Katelyn giggled, and Neil looked towards her as she waved him off. 

“Sorry, it’s just I come from a family of 8, so Thanksgiving with the Dobson-Minyards is my personal heaven,” she explained, while ladling gravy onto her mashed potatoes. “I’ve literally begged Aaron to do every holiday here because it’s just so quiet and calm.” 

Neil relaxed a bit, and found himself enjoying dinner much more after that. Everyone seemed content to pass the various dishes around and Katelyn complimented Betsy and Andrew. Andrew largely ignored her, but Neil noticed him give Katelyn the second largest piece of apple pie. Andrew, of course, got the largest piece of pie. 

Aaron and Katelyn eventually made their way to do the remaining dishes. Neil stood up to follow them, determined to earn his spot, but Andrew jerked his head at him, and Neil followed Andrew out to the porch. Andrew settled down on the front steps, and Neil sat down next to him, ensuring that there was space between them. Neil watched as Andrew’s fingers twitched, and he wondered if Andrew missed smoking. He asked. 

Andrew snorted, “Hard to miss something you never had in the first place.” 

Neil frowned, “That’s not true.” Neil had missed so much locked up in his parents house, under their thumbs. He had missed Andrew in rehab. 

Andrew paused for a moment, then blinked, and shrugged. Neil took his concession for what it was. They sat in silence, listening to the crickets start up in the twilight. The breeze ruffled Neil’s hair and he felt a warmth spreading through his chest. Contentment. He grinned to himself. 

“What,” demanded Andrew. 

“Nothing. I like it here,” Neil answered honestly. 

Andrew sighed dramatically, “Not for long you won’t.” 

Neil shot him a look, and opened his mouth. Before he could question, Aaron burst through the door. “Card game,” he informed them. Andrew immediately stood up, and held out his hand in question to Neil. Neil scrambled up, using Andrew’s hand to pull himself off the porch. Aaron watched them intensely, and Neil quickly dropped Andrew’s hand. 

Andrew headed inside and took up residence in the squishy armchair next to the sofa. Betsy handed him a cup of hot chocolate, and he took it. Katelyn was dealing Uno cards to Betsy, Aaron, and Andrew; Neil hovered awkwardly until Andrew took pity on him and gestured for Neil to sit in front of his chair. He tried to pass the cards to Andrew, but Andrew shoved them away. 

“Those are your cards,” Andrew explained. Neil blinked at him, then glanced back at Katelyn, who hadn’t dealt Andrew any cards. He looked back to Andrew, who drawled lazily, “I’m not allowed to play.” Neil’s eyes darted suspiciously toward Aaron who was watching them. 

Aaron rolled his eyes, “Andrew counts cards. He’s banned from playing because he memorizes the order and then cheats his way to victory.” It was the most he had spoken to Neil all day. 

Neil shrugged, and the game began. He quickly realized he knew none of the rules. The Dobson-Minyard household played Uno with an arsenal of seemingly made-up rules. Andrew was no help either, ignoring Neil’s confused looks or outright telling him incorrect rules so he would lose. Neil began to ignore him after a while, and frustration set in. He had been the best at Uno in rehab, and now he hadn’t even won a single game. His frustration must have been evident on his face because Andrew smirked at him and asked, “Still like it here?” Neil glared at him.  

After a few more rounds, Neil glanced back at Andrew, and to his surprise, Andrew seemed to be dozing. While Betsy shuffled the cards for a final round, Neil studied Andrew’s face, which had relaxed in sleep. His brow was softer, and his jaw wasn’t as tense. It made him seem younger. His hair looked darker and bronzer in the dim lamplight, and Neil felt something warm crawling through his chest. He felt like he could look at Andrew forever. A fierce feeling of gratefulness shot through Neil’s chest. He was so grateful Andrew had found him hiding on that balcony. He was so grateful for Andrew’s friendship. He was grateful for Andrew. 

A tapping on the coffee table startled him. Betsy was smiling softly at him, and gestured to the cards in front of him. Neil hastily picked them up, and hoped the others hadn’t noticed him watching Andrew while he slept. From the look on Aaron’s face, he had. 

After the game ended, Katelyn stood up giving her goodnights, and Aaron followed her up the stairs. Betsy took hers and Andrew’s cups into the kitchen, and Neil stayed seated on the floor. He shifted to lean against the couch and to watch Andrew more. Overall, he thought idly, this had been one of the best holidays he had ever had. Maybe one of the best days even. He nudged the bottom of Andrew’s chair with his foot, and Andrew’s eyes flew open, shoulders tense. 

Andrew relaxed immediately once he took in his surroundings. “Bed,” questioned Neil. Andrew grunted an affirmation, and stood up. He called a goodnight into the kitchen to Betsy, who waved them off fondly. Neil followed Andrew up the stairs, and collapsed into bed. Sleep came quickly. 

—-

The next day, when Neil headed down the stairs to the kitchen, Andrew was already waiting for him. “Bee, Aaron, and Katelyn went Black Friday shopping,” he informed Neil, sipping his coffee. 

“Oh,” Neil hadn’t even considered that as an option. “So, it’s just us then?” Andrew nodded, and Neil grinned, “Good. I like it when it’s just us.” Andrew glared at him. 

The rest of the day was spent watching old movies, and lazily eating leftovers on the couch. Neil, very casually, suggested that they watch one of Andrew’s movies, and Andrew retaliated by throwing a piece of cold turkey at his face. Sometime in the early afternoon, Neil can tell that Andrew was getting restless. He was clenching and unclenching his jaw, so Neil reached out and shoved his feet into Andrew’s. 

“Do you want to get out of the house,” Neil asked, poking his toes under the soles of Andrew’s feet. 

Andrew considered it for a few moments before he stood up. “We can go for a drive,” he supplied, making his way to the front door. Neil bounded up eagerly after him. Andrew opened the door, and a cold wind swept through them. He slammed the door shut fiercely, glaring at the wood as if it was the cause of the cold front. 

He made his way over to the coat closet, and pulled out two plaid jackets. Andrew tossed one onto Neil’s head, making him release a bark of laughter. By the time Neil had untangled himself, Andrew had his coat on and was waiting impatiently for Neil to put his coat on as well. Neil grinned at him and waggled his fingers at Andrew, “Look, we match.” 

Andrew went stock still for a moment, then rolled his eyes, and stomped back over to the door. Neil laughed to himself and followed Andrew out to the Maserati. The engine roared to life and Andrew immediately stuck his fingers into the vents, searching desperately for the hot air. Neil burrowed his nose down into the collar of the jacket. The fabric didn’t smell like Andrew, but Neil caught himself wishing it did. 

Andrew led them down an indiscernible path through the back country roads of upstate New York. For the first hour, Neil admired the reds and the golds of the trees flashing by him. It reminded him a lot of his favorite room in his rehab facility. It had overlooked the mountains and was surrounded by trees. During autumn, all the trees would turn the various shades of yellow, red, and orange, and in the afternoon sun, the room would be awash with colors. The reds and oranges were sometimes so bright, Neil felt like he was sitting in the middle of a fire. A fire he had chosen. 

Neil cleared his throat, “Do you think a small town would have enough resources to hide out in during a zombie apocalypse, or would it be better to be in a big city?” Andrew took a few moments to ponder this question, and they were off. Debating the pros and cons of being in a remote, isolated town versus an overpopulated, but well-stocked city. 

By the time Andrew was swinging back into town, they’re arguing their most worn out fight, whether it’s better to go back for people or to work alone. Andrew had always argued for a small group of people; Neil had always argued for alone. 

They were turning onto the main road when something occurred to Neil. “I would go back for you,” Neil said suddenly, into the brief silence. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew that if a zombie apocalypse broke out tonight, he would fight tooth and nail to stay by Andrew’s side. He chanced a look at Andrew, only to be startled into laughter when he caught Andrew staring at him dumbfounded. As Andrew’s shocked silence grew longer, Neil’s laughter only grew louder. 

Suddenly, Andrew slammed on the brakes, and Neil jerked forward into his seatbelt. They had made their way back to the one stoplight in Betsy’s town. Neil’s giggles started up again. “Did you almost speed through a red light because I shocked you that badly,” he managed to wheeze out. 

Andrew scowled out into the night, “There shouldn’t even be a stoplight here. There’s not enough people in this godforsaken town.” Neil’s giggles became more maniacal, and he felt his sides starting to hurt from the shaking. 

Neil eventually calmed down as Andrew pulled into Betsy’s driveway; Neil noted that the others were back and a small part of him was disappointed. Andrew turned off the car, and they made their way inside. Aaron, Katelyn, and Betsy were sitting around the kitchen table eating leftovers. Betsy smiled when she saw them and got up to make them plates. 

“Where were you,” Aaron asked, in a tone too close to a demand for Neil’s liking. He narrowed his eyes at Aaron, who narrowed his eyes back at Neil. Neil forced himself to relax; he needed Aaron to like him to stay in Andrew’s life. 

“Driving,” Andrew supplied, while cutting a large piece of pumpkin pie for himself. 

Aaron glared at Neil suspiciously, “Until this late?”

“Sounds like fun,” declared Katelyn, who then began to list, store by store, everywhere they had been today. Neil was starting to see why Andrew tolerated her. She dealt with Aaron’s general unpleasantness and she clearly knew when to divert attention, which, in Neil’s opinion, was a valuable skill. Then, Katelyn began to list every single item they had bought, and Neil slowly began to resent her. 

After she had finished, Neil excused himself, and made his way up to his room. He felt in the mood to write, and after spending more time in the autumn trees with Andrew, he knew he could probably scrounge up some inspiration. 

— 

Neil woke up in a cold sweat, his heart pounding and eyes pried open in terror. He rolled off his bed and shoved himself into the nearest corner. Pages went sliding across the room, their soft rustles across the hardwood floor sounding like alarms, pointing to Neil’s hiding spot. As Neil tried to take several calming breaths, he took in his surroundings. He was in the guest room at Betsy’s house. Andrew was through the bathroom door. All he had had was a nightmare. A nightmare of being tied down in his father’s basement, Lola’s shrieking cackles bouncing off the tiles. Listening to his mother scream behind a closed door. 

He shoved his hands into his hair and pulled hard. The sharp stabs of pain along his scalp gave him something to focus on. He tried the grounding exercise he had learned in rehab. Count three things he could see. The corner of the bed, the door that he locked, his duffle in the corner. Count three things he could hear. The hum of the heater, the wind in the trees, and someone moving around downstairs. 

Neil frowned, then peaked over the side of the bed to the nightstand. The digital clock said it was around 2 am; he wondered who was awake. Maybe Andrew, his mind supplied. With that thought, Neil gingerly picked himself up and made his way to the door. He crept silently down the stairs, trying to make himself as invisible as possible. 

The kitchen was lit up in the dim glow of the open refrigerator door, and, to Neil’s sharp and furious relief, Andrew was there. As Neil padded into the kitchen, Andrew turned and startled minutely in surprise. Neil lowered himself into a chair, and watched Andrew watch him. Neil swallowed and whispered, “I fell asleep writing, and I had a nightmare. That’s all.” 

Andrew’s eyes sharpened in understanding. He closed the refrigerator door, and turned on the overhead lights. Neil missed the soft glow. Everything seemed too real and ugly under these lights. Andrew sat down heavily across from Neil and dug his spoon into a pint of ice cream. 

Neil watched as Andrew methodically made his way through the pint. Andrew had his glasses on, which told Neil that he must have gone to bed and either woken up, or never fell asleep. The thick squares around his eyes made him look younger, and Neil could see the scratch from Sir on the left frame. Eventually, Andrew finished his ice cream, and looked up to study Neil’s face again. 

“I’m fine,” Neil supplied. Andrew scowled, and Neil smiled weakly. “You know what Ruby told me in rehab,” Neil started. Andrew watched him blankly, and Neil continued. “She said that because I had said the phrase ‘I’m fine,’ so much growing up, I had become desensitized to it. That I needed a more honest phrase. The next time she asked me how I was doing,” Neil paused for dramatic effect, “I said ‘I’m okay.’” Andrew immediately rolled his eyes and Neil grinned at him. 

“Ruby had the same response,” Neil said, pleased with his joke. Andrew shoved Neil’s elbow off the table, and Neil lurched forward from the loss of balance. He giggled into the silence, and Andrew smirked at him. Neil resettled himself onto his chair, leaning against the back, and returning Andrew’s steady gaze. “I really think I am okay though,” he said after a minute of silence.  “Things are getting better,” he added quietly, and Andrew nodded. 

“Have you found a therapist in New York,” Andrew asked. 

“Ruby recommended a few that I’m checking out after we get back,” Neil said, and Andrew looked appeased by this information. The pair sat in silence, Neil leaned back in his chair, and felt his eyes slipping closed. Things were just easier with Andrew close by. Before Neil could actually let himself fall into a complete doze, Andrew nudged his chair leg. Neil squinted at him blearily, and Andrew inclined his head towards the stairs. It was for the best, Neil thought dejectedly. He probably shouldn’t sleep in a kitchen chair. 

Andrew went into his room, closed the door, and Neil tried not to sigh unhappily. He made his way down the hall into his room, leaning against the closed door for a moment. He surveyed the papers strewn about the floor, and bent down to pick them up. Neil had just grabbed the last of them, when there was a soft tapping at the bathroom door. “Andrew?” 

The door opened and Andrew was there, silhouetted in the bathroom light. “If we kept this light on and our doors opened, would that help you sleep,” Andrew questioned. Neil felt his heart skip a beat. He swallowed hard, and nodded around the lump in his throat. Andrew gestured towards Neil’s bed, and Neil rushed to get back under the covers. 

He watched as Andrew gave him one last surveying look, then with a single nod, turned and headed back into his room. Neil could hear the creaks of Andrew’s mattress as he got into his own bed. He listened intently as Andrew rustled around for a few minutes, trying to get comfortable. Then, the silence grew, but Neil didn’t find it oppressive. It was Andrew’s silence, and that made it safe. 

—- 

Rain was pounding on the roof when Neil woke up on Saturday. He groggily pulled himself out from under the duvet, and stumbled into the bathroom to shower. The door was still open from the previous night when Andrew had left it open for him, but Andrew wasn’t in his bed. Neil assumed he had gone downstairs already. 

When Neil finally made his way into the kitchen, he was met with an interesting sight. Aaron and Andrew were sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, a game of Connect Four standing up in between them. The twins stared silently at the game, Aaron’s eyes flitting across the holes, clearly contemplating his next move; Andrew rolled a red circle piece in between his knuckles. 

Katelyn was leaning against the counter, scrolling aimlessly on her phone. She put it away when she saw Neil, and reached up into the cabinet to hand him a coffee cup. “Today is the day of board games, Neil,” she informed him, as he made himself a cup of coffee. “Can you handle it,” she asked dramatically. 

Neil snorted, “All there was to do in rehab was board games.” Aaron’s eyes flicked to Neil’s face, then back to the game where Andrew had quickly slid his piece into a slot. Katelyn pursed her mouth, and then made her way out of the kitchen. Neil watched Andrew and Aaron for a few moments, Aaron glared furiously at the game, while Andrew radiated an aura of smugness. Suddenly, Aaron released the lever, all the circle pieces falling out the bottom. 

“Rematch,” Aaron demanded, and Andrew nodded, already beginning to sort the circle pieces by their colors. 

“Neither of you won,” Neil pointed out helpfully. 

“Andrew was going to win no matter what turn I was going to take,” Aaron replied, not bothering to look at Neil. “Look with your eyes.” Andrew shot a withering look at Aaron, and shoved his first game piece into the game. 

“Hey, Neil,” Katelyn called from the other room. “Can you come help me?” Neil made his way into the living room, where he found Katelyn standing with several boxes full of board games. Neil put his coffee cup down, and reached out to take them off her hands, but she gestured to the closet behind her. “No, grab some more of those, if you can.” 

Neil heeded her request, and then followed her back into the living room. Katelyn set her games down and gestured for Neil to do the same. He sat in Andrew’s armchair, and watched her sort them quietly. “Sorry about Aaron,” she said abruptly, quietly. She bit her lip nervously. “I swear he’s a kind person. He’s just very protective of Andrew.” Neil snorted, as if Andrew needed protection. 

“No, I know,” she smiled weakly. “It seems silly, but he told me that when Andrew started getting famous, he read a bunch of biographies of other child stars, and about how horribly the industry treats them, and he just gets really defensive of anyone in the business hanging around Andrew.” 

Neil stared at her incredulously. He wasn’t only in the business; his family had been the business for years. “I’m more than aware of how Hollywood treats child stars,” he told Katelyn bluntly. 

Katelyn grimaced apologetically, “I know that, and Aaron knows that, but I think it’s still hard for him.” She paused, then leaned in to whisper to Neil, “Andrew spends so much time worrying about others, I think Aaron thinks that no one worries about him.” Neil mulled this over; on one hand, Andrew was more than capable of handling things himself, but on the other hand, Neil secretly liked that someone, even if it was only Aaron, was looking out for Andrew. He nodded once at Katelyn, who looked a little relieved. 

“This is the happiest I’ve ever seen Andrew,” she confided, as she pulled out a game called Codenames. Neil looked at her sardonically, and she rolled her eyes. “Last Thanksgiving, he cooked, then he sat on the porch eating candy all weekend. This time he’s interacting with us willingly.” She grinned, “You have a positive effect on him.” 

Before Neil could respond to that, Bee walked in through the door, shaking off an umbrella. “Oh, good,” she said, after she caught sight of Neil and Katelyn. “I love a good board game day.” Katelyn beamed at her, and Betsy called out to Andrew and Aaron to join them. There was a sudden crash, and Aaron’s shout of indignation. Andrew came strolling into sight a moment later. 

“I was winning and then Andrew shoved the game off the table,” Aaron said furiously. Neil slid out of Andrew’s armchair, and Andrew fell into it gracefully. 

“Doesn’t sound like me,” Andrew replied casually. Neil drew his knees up to his chin to hide his smile. 

Bee plucked a game about sushi off the top of the pile, “You better pick up all those tiny pieces later. I don’t want them melting under my oven.” Andrew pretended not to hear her, until she gave him a firm look, then he nodded once. 

He nudged Neil to sit up, the back of his knees shoving Neil into a position in front of the coffee table. “You’ll like this game,” Andrew said quietly, his words ruffling the top of Neil’s hair. “It involves counting.” Neil perked up; he had always liked numbers. He grinned at Andrew over his shoulder, and Andrew shoved his face away. 

The rest of the morning passed quickly, and Neil found himself loosening up more and more. After lunch, he even finally managed to win a round of Uno, causing Besty and Katelyn to cheer with delight for him. “Once you’ve learned all their ridiculous rules, you’re truly a member of the family,” Katelyn told him off-handedly. Neil liked the sound of that. 

They played a round of charades, which Andrew deemed boring since his whole life was charades. Aaron called him dramatic, and Andrew, once again pointed out, that he was, quite literally, paid, very well, to be dramatic. 

Katelyn had claimed Neil for her team, and Aaron and Betsy had paired off for the other. Neil had glanced worriedly at Andrew, but Andrew waved him off. “I’ll judge,” he said. 

“You’re always judging,” Neil shot back without thinking. Katelyn let out a bark of laughter, and covered her mouth quickly. Betsy nodded her agreement solemnly, a smile hiding in her eyes; and Neil felt himself relax with their approval.  

A few rounds in had Aaron and Betsy in the lead and fighting for the winning point. After looking at the word the Charades app had generated for him, Aaron smirked at Andrew, and looked to Betsy. He held up two fingers. “Two syllables,” Betsy stated, and Aaron nodded in confirmation. “And the category is still sports, correct?” Aaron nodded, then pointed at Andrew, and sat down on the floor cross legged. Andrew scowled, and a flush worked its way across his cheeks while Betsy laughed, “Soccer!” 

Katelyn giggled, and Neil looked confusedly at Aaron. “Bee signed us up for soccer when we first came to live with her,” Aaron explained, making his way to sit back by Betsy, while Katelyn searched for the next game to play. “Andrew was assigned to play goalie, and he just sat in the goal during a game until they took him out.” 

Betsy sighed, and smiled, “Soon after, I asked Andrew what he wanted to do after school. He picked theater, and, of course, the rest is history.” Neil grinned at Andrew, who refused to look at him. He loved learning about Andrew; past, present, and future, he wanted to know it all. “Did you ever play a sport, Neil?” 

“I’ve always loved running,” Neil said turning his attention back to Betsy, “I think I would have made a good soccer player.” He cleared his throat, “I actually ran a lot in rehab. It was one of the first times I had access to outdoor trails, so I could run for miles. The facility was on about fifty acres of private land, so I had miles of trails to run.” 

Betsy smiled kindly, but Aaron cut in, “Didn’t you grow up in Los Angeles? Aren’t there good running trails there?” 

“I wasn’t allowed out much as a kid,” Neil said, burying his growing resentment towards Aaron. 

Andrew rolled his eyes, “Yes, we’ve all seen the lifetime movie special of your tragic childhood. We’re moving on.” Neil snorted at Andrew’s abruptness and felt a bit more settled. Andrew pointed at a board game called Catan; Neil had never seen it before. “That one.” 

Aaron and Katelyn erupted into groans, and Betsy laughed. “I think it’s only fair that we play the one game Andrew has requested,” she scolded gently, opening the box. 

“I’ll go put on a pot of coffee,” Katelyn sighed dramatically, as she stood up. She gently ran her fingers through Aaron’s hair, and Neil watched as his face softened while he watched her leave. 

“Why don’t you like this one,” Neil asked Aaron. He was determined to find one redeemable quality about Andrew’s brother. He was keeping Andrew in his life, one way or another, and, tragically, that meant Aaron too. He could play nice and pretend to get along with Aaron if it meant keeping Andrew. 

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” Aaron replied. “It just takes forever, and Andrew always wins.” 

“Be better then,” Andrew said passively, sorting game pieces around the coffee table. 

Neil grinned, and Katelyn returned with several cups of coffee. She began explaining in agonizing detail the rules of the game, and Neil almost wondered if learning how to play would take just as long. Eventually, the game started, and Neil quickly realized that Aaron was in fact right. Catan took forever to play, and after the four hours it took them to finish, Andrew had won. 

Neil glanced at the clock; it was still early, but he decided to call it a night. He and Andrew were going to be driving home early tomorrow morning, and he wanted to work on some song lyrics before he went to sleep. He bid everyone goodnight, and headed up the stairs. 

He wanted to write a song about this week. Even if it was just something for himself to keep, and not to put on the next album. Just a reminder of how nice and normal it had felt. Neil pulled out his notebook and quickly wrote, I walked through the door with you, the air was cold. He paused, then added, But something bout it felt like home, somehow. He grinned to himself. It was a start. 

—- 

Neil woke up with a crick in his neck. He had fallen asleep with his back to the bed, sitting on the floor. He stretched and glanced up at the clock. Only 1 am. 

His mouth felt dry, and he decided to make his way down to the kitchen to get some water. Maybe Andrew would be down there, he thought with a grin. He heard the sound of mugs clinking around on the table, and he grinned. 

“You know that Riko Moriyama owns Neil’s masters, right?” 

The sound of Aaron’s voice brought Neil to a halt around the corner. He blanched for a moment, his body instinctively tucking himself into a dark corner. Then, Aaron’s words hit him, and his heart began to beat a little quicker. Why was Aaron bringing up Riko? And, Neil realized with a sudden jolt of horror, was it even Andrew in the kitchen? What if it was Katelyn or Bee? 

“Why does it matter,” Andrew’s voice replied impassively. Neil relaxed; he had shared most of the legalities of Riko buying Neil’s masters while he had been in rehab with Andrew already. Riko had wanted some form of control, and Neil was not a bit sad to lose the songs that had held him captive for years. The only songs he was upset about were the ones on his EP. So, Riko owned the rights to a bunch of mediocre, bland pop songs. Who cared? Neil didn’t. 

“Riko Moriyama has been accused of sexual assualt three times in the past two years, his family was way too close to the Wesninski trial, and considering Neil’s dad was literally in the mob, who knows where the money from the music is going. You’re telling me that none of that bothers you at all,” Aaron demanded. Neil felt his stomach twist. Aaron had clearly done his research, and Neil hated being so seen. 

The worst part was that Aaron wasn’t wrong. Neil had no idea where any of the money from the streams of his previous albums were going. His lawyers had informed him that Riko was making around 3 million from Neil’s previous albums from streaming revenue, but Neil had wanted to be done with the whole thing. He didn’t want to fight for albums that had been used to control him. Neil wondered if he had made the right choice now. Where was Riko’s money going to? 

Andrew was silent, and Neil desperately wished he could see his face for any hint of what he was thinking. 

“How do you know he doesn’t have any current connections to the mob?” Aaron’s words sliced through Neil’s chest; sharper than any pain he had felt before. It was as if Aaron thought Neil had enjoyed his time living with his parents. As if his every move hadn’t been monitored. As if his every action hadn’t been picked for him before he even made it, every word he spoke written out for him before he spoke it. As if his father hadn’t sliced him open when his album sales started dropping. 

The worst part was, Aaron wasn’t too far off the mark. When Neil was in rehab, he had received one outside visitor, his uncle, Stuart. Mary had spoken briefly of Stuart during their first and only failed flight out of Los Angeles, but Neil only knew that he was Mary’s older brother who lived in London and had ties to another mob. His uncle had informed him that if Neil ever wanted to step out of the spotlight, he would always have a spot with the Hatfords. Neil had quickly turned him down. If Stuart had enough money and connections to access Neil while he was on governmental lockdown in rehab, there was no way Neil wanted to get involved with that part of his family. 

But that hadn’t stopped him from memorizing Stuart’s phone number. Just in case, as a backup, he had told himself at the time. Regret and shame curled around his heart. Aaron was right; Neil was putting Andrew in danger. Even now. Even still. Neil curled his fingers into his shirt over his heart, willing it to stop pounding so loudly. Surely, Andrew and Aaron could hear him. 

“I don’t know,” Andrew said suddenly into the silence. Neil felt the world tilt under his feet, and time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Andrew didn’t trust him. 

“So, then why is he here?” Aaron’s response came quietly, determinedly. 

“For Thanksgiving.” 

Aaron groaned, “Andrew, be serious. Why is he here?” 

There was silence. “He doesn’t have anywhere else to go,” Andrew said. Neil felt something inside him fracture. He wondered absently if this was what heartbreak felt like. Andrew invited me here, he thought furiously. Andrew wanted me here. Neil froze. Had Andrew ever told him that he wanted Neil here? Neil racked his brain hurriedly, and came up empty handed. 

“Is he going to be back next year,” Aaron asked. Silence followed and in that silence, Neil felt his heart shatter. Definitely heartbroken, he caught himself thinking. Andrew hadn’t wanted Neil here. He had only invited him out of pity. There would be no next year. No more board games, no more autumn drives with Andrew, no more spending time in the house where Andrew felt the most comfortable. There seemed to be a ringing in his ears, and his legs felt shaky. Neil realized with a start that he was having a panic attack. Andrew and Aaron seemed to be continuing their conversation, but Neil couldn’t hear it. His mind had turned to static. 

He started to make his way silently and slowly back to the stairs. He could melt down in private, away from Andrew and Aaron. He could barely make out Aaron’s words, the ringing in his ears was so loud. Andrew’s voice shot through the noise, “He isn’t important enough.” Neil fled up the stairs. It was very clear that he needed to be anywhere but here. He needed to run, and for once in his life, there was nothing stopping him.

Neil pulled out his phone, and called Stephen. The phone rang for a few moments, then, “Neil? What’s wrong?” 

“I need to be back in New York,” Neil whispered, hurriedly shoving clothes into his bag. 

“What? Now,” Stephen asked, a bit incredulously. Neil heard him get up, and start moving around his apartment. 

“As soon as possible,” Neil said. He opened the window, and peered out. His window opened up onto the porch’s roof and there was a drainpipe by the edge. Neil climbed out the window, and looked back inside. His sweater was on the floor. He hesitated, then forced himself to keep moving. 

There was typing on the line as Neil started jogging his way down Betsy’s drive. He stuck to the treeline and did his best to stay hidden in the shadows. “I have a guy about an hour away from you who can drive to you and pick you up,” Stephen replied. “It won’t be cheap though.” 

“That’s fine,” Neil replied. “Tell him to meet me at the 24 truck stop off Highway 20.” 

There were some clicking noises as Stephen searched for the truck stop online and he sputtered, “No, what? That’s a 45 minute drive away from you. How are you getting there?” 

“Jogging to the only gas station in town, then hitchhiking maybe,” Neil said, turning out onto the main street. He jogged past the one stoplight, and willed himself not to think about Andrew. “I should get there in-” 

“Absolutely not,” Stephen cut him off. “Stay put or I’m calling Andrew.”

Neil gasped in panic, “No! Don’t!” He froze, huddling in the shadows of the grocery store. “Stephen, don’t.” 

Stephen paused for a moment, then quietly, “Is this his fault?” 

“It’s not,” Neil hesitated. Stephen waited patiently. “It’s not his fault. I just can’t be here anymore.” 

Stephen sighed, “Do you want to keep me on the line while you jog to get into an unknown vehicle?” Neil winced. 

“No, but I promise to keep you updated?” 

“Turn on your location sharing, and send it to me immediately,” Stephen said, the sound of furious typing came over the line. “My guy is named Calvin. He has been instructed to drive straight there and to send photo proof to me that he has you. I’m sending you his contact information now.” Neil’s phone buzzed and he looked down to see a phone number, and a photo to go with it. “Stay on the phone with me until you get into a car.” Neil could feel Stephen’s distaste over the phone.

“Thank you, Stephen,” Neil said gratefully, hanging up the phone. He made it to the main road and saw the gas station in the distance. He looked over his shoulder, back into town and saw the stoplight lit up in a red glow. He swallowed hard.  

— 

8 hours later, Neil collapsed into his bed. After getting a ride from a grandma who had no idea who he was, meeting Calvin, and continuously talking to Stephen, Neil was exhausted. 

Stephen had been waiting furiously outside his New York apartment when Calvin had dropped him off. Stephen told Neil he would post up in the kitchen, so Neil could sleep. 

“Andrew’s been calling me for an hour now,” he had informed Neil in the elevator. “I haven’t answered. What do you want me to do?” 

“Tell him I had to go home right away,” Neil had suggested. Stephen had rolled his eyes, but nodded. 

“Do you want me to keep him out of your apartment,” Stephen had asked. Neil hesitated, then nodded, unable to meet Stephen’s eyes. “Will you tell me what happened?” 

“Later,” Neil had said, and then he had slept. 

— 

Neil stumbled blearily out into his kitchen. Stephen glanced at him over the top of his book as Neil made his way to his coffee machine. “Andrew showed up,” Stephen said casually. Neil froze, but didn’t make eye contact. “He seemed upset,” Stephen added. Neil rolled his eyes. “I told him that you were safe inside, and that you needed some time, but that you would contact him.” Neil felt his heart drop. He couldn’t call Andrew. Not after Andrew telling Aaron that Neil wasn’t important. He shook his head at Stephen, who sighed. The pair stared at each other for a few moments in silence. “Did he hurt you,” Stephen asked again. 

Neil exhaled, “Yes, but it was unintentional.” Stephen gestured for him to go on, “I overheard something I shouldn’t have. And-” Neil paused. “Maybe I overreacted,” he muttered into his coffee cup. Stephen snorted. “I needed to get out, and it was the first time in my life that I knew I could get out without being dragged back,” Neil snapped defensively. 

Stephen grimaced, “Then, I guess I’m glad you called me.” He looked Neil in the eyes and said deliberately, “I will always do my best to get you safely home.” 

“Because I pay you,” Neil shot back. 

“Neil, you’re a good kid. Some shit has happened to you, and you deserve to have someone on your team. I’m on your team,” Stephen said firmly. “But now, your team is tired and going to sleep. Are you leaving the house in the next 12 hours?” Neil shook his head. “Good, I’m going to go sleep off the heart attack you gave me.” Stephen shrugged on his coat, “While you’re a good kid, you are also a tiny goblin who seems insistent on sending me to an early grave. No more hitch hiking.” Stephen looked sternly at Neil who did his best to look innocent. 

Stephen left the apartment and for the first time in five days, Neil was alone. He finished the last of his coffee and surveyed his apartment. Everything in it reminded him of Andrew. Andrew had helped him put up the bookshelves. Andrew had helped him organize his records. Andrew had helped him arrange the furniture. Neil was going to have to move. 

He headed down the hallway to his writing room, grabbing his journal on the way. Inside was a small piano, and several of his guitars. Neil opened up the journal to the last entry. I walked through the door with you, the air was cold. But something ‘bout it felt like home somehow. He stared at the words forlornly. He had been incredibly optimistic when he had written those words. Whatever magic that small town held was long gone by now, Neil thought to himself. He paused, then started to write.  

— 

In less than 24 hours, Neil knew that he had a painfully real song. He hated it. He hated the vulnerability. He hated the honesty. He hated the rawness. But, he also knew that it was too good to not record. So, he called Kevin. “I need your help,” he said, in lieu of a greeting. 

“With what,” Kevin sounded suspicious. 

“I wrote a song. I want you to help me fix it.” Neil chewed on his fingernail glancing out the window. It was overcast and cold outside. Lethargy had made its way into the weather of New York. 

“Fix it? Fix it how,” Kevin demanded. 

Neil sighed, “There are parts that are too honest. I need to make them have the same theme, but not so real.” 

There was silence over the line. Then, “That makes zero sense.” 

“Can you be here and help me or not,” Neil snapped. 

“Yes, god . I’m already in the car,” Kevin replied snidely. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. I hope you have a decent recording set up.” He hung up the phone, and Neil wondered if he had made a mistake. 

When Kevin arrived, he swept into Neil’s recording room and set up shop like he owned the place. He looked around imperiously, with his hands on his hips. Kevin finally gave an approving nod, which Neil hated to admit made the tension in his shoulders loosen a bit. “You got everything I told you to. Good.”

Neil shrugged, “It’s not like I knew any better. They never let me touch the recording machines. I just had to sing into the mic.” 

Kevin looked pained. “I’ll teach you.” Neil nodded gratefully. Kevin sat down in one of the armchairs Neil had bought specifically for this room. He held out his hand expectantly, and Neil stared at him blankly. “Neil, where’s the song,” Kevin asked after a beat of silence. 

Neil hid his journal behind his back. “I need to make it less obvious,” he said, trying to delay the inevitable. This had been a terrible idea from the start. Kevin and Andrew were best friends. “And,” Neil took a fortifying breath, “I need you to promise to not tell anyone what it’s about.” 

“Do you want me to sign an NDA,” Kevin asked seriously. 

Neil recoiled a bit, “What? No! Can’t you just promise?” 

Kevin shrugged, “Sure.” He held out his pinky; Neil stared at him blankly. “You wanted a promise,” Kevin said, sounding annoyed. “This one is a pinky.” Neil shook Kevin’s pinky with his own, then quickly handed Kevin his journal; the page opened to a song titled “All Too Well.” 

Neil watched as Kevin’s eyebrows rose higher and higher with every line. “Is this about-”

“Don’t.” Neil’s tone took Kevin by surprise and he shot up to stare at Neil. 

“I know you know,” Neil started, then stopped. He wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know what to say to anyone. Not to Kevin. Not to Stephen. Not to Andrew who had been calling on the hour every hour since he had woken up. 

“It’s obvious,” Neil tried again. “And I need it to be not obvious.” He gestured to the pages Kevin was holding open. “I circled parts that I think could be changed easily.” Kevin looked down at the pages again, his brow furrowing. He took out a pen and began scratching through words and rewriting them, underlining his new additions to Neil’s song. Neil sat in silence as Kevin went over the song, watching him go back over certain parts and scrunching his eyebrows in consideration. 

Finally, after 15 minutes of listening to Kevin’s pen scratch, he cleared his throat. “Here,” he passed back the journal. “See what you think.” 

Neil read through the first verse to see where Kevin had scribbled out some of his words and replaced them with new ones. “I walked through the door with you, the air was cold. But something about it felt like home somehow. And I left my sweater scarf there at your mother’s sister's  house, and you've still got it in your drawer even now.” 

Neil glanced at Kevin, who gestured at him to keep going. “Oh, your blank sweet disposition, and my wide-eyed gaze. We're sitting singing in the car, getting lost upstate. Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place, and I can picture it after all these days.” 

“You didn’t change much,” Neil accused him. “You’ve only changed words here and there.” He read the next few lines that Kevin hadn’t even touched. “And I know it's long gone and that magic's not here no more. And I might be okay but I'm not fine at all. 'Cause there we are again on that little town street. You almost ran the red 'cause you were lookin' over at me. Wind in my hair, I was there. I remember it all too well” 

Kevin threw up his hands in exasperation. “Overall, it’s a great song, there’s not much I wanted to change.” Neil ignored the praise, even if it did send tendrils of satisfaction sneaking up his spine.. “And,” Kevin added, “He’s not stupid, Neil. He’s going to figure it out no matter what words I change.” Neil glared at him, feeling his cheeks heat up in anger and embarrassment. 

“Photos line up the stairway Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red. You're still the twin with glasses in the room up the stairs. You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed. And your brother’s mother's telling stories 'bout you on the soccer tee-ball team. You told me 'bout your past thinking your future was me.” 

Neil appreciated that the second verse had been significantly changed with Kevin’s crossed out words and underlines. “Well, maybe I’ll just never talk to him again,” sniped Neil. 

He ignored Kevin’s eyes nearly popping out of his head in favor of reading the next chorus. “And I know it's long gone and there was nothing else I could do. Will I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to? 'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night. We're sitting dancing  'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light. Down the stairs, I was there. I remember it all too well.” 

Neil snorted, “Why would anyone dance around the kitchen?” When Kevin didn’t respond, he glanced up. 

“You can’t just cut Andrew out of your life,” Kevin said angrily. His arms were crossed in front of his chest. Neil leaned back in his armchair and cooly assessed Kevin. 

“No one gets to tell me what to do anymore, Kevin,” Neil said quietly, a terrifying fury building in his chest. “I will cut anyone I want out of my life because it’s my choice .” For too long, he had lived without choices. That was going to change. Even if the first real choice he would ever make may be the most devastating one. Cutting Andrew’s friendship out of his life would be life altering.

“Friends don’t cut all contact. You need to tell him why,” Kevin shot back. “Andrew deserves that at the very least. After everything he’s done for you?”  

“He said I wasn’t important,” Neil blurted out angrily. He hadn’t meant to tell anyone. He hadn’t planned on telling anyone. If Andrew thought Neil wasn’t important, that was a shameful secret Neil wanted to carry to his grave. If the only person who had ever seemed to care still thought Neil was unimportant, why would anyone else care about him? 

Kevin looked at him in bewilderment. “You have to be joking.” 

Neil ignored him in favor of reading the start to the bridge. Kevin had left it unmarked. “ And maybe we got lost in translation. Maybe I asked for too much. But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til I tore it all up. Running scared, I was there, I remember it all too well.”   

“I know what I heard,” he told Kevin, flipping the page to review the next part of the song. “Andrew was talking with Aaron and Aaron kept questioning Andrew about my past and Andrew said “Neil isn’t important enough.” Kevin was silent. Neil glanced up to gauge his reaction, but Kevin was staring at the wall as if it could give him the answers. Neil kept reading. 

“Hey, will you call me up again just to break me like a promise? So casually cruel in the name of being honest? I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here. 'Cause I remember it all, all, all too well.” Neil frowned in annoyance. 

“You didn’t change any of this.” 

Kevin startled out of his thoughts, “I can’t change that part until I hear you sing it. It’s too poetic to change unless the music doesn’t flow well.” He paused, “Andrew would never say that you’re not important.” Neil rolled his eyes. 

“I know what I heard, Kevin.” 

“You heard him say, point-blank , ‘Neil Josten is not important enough.’ You heard those exact words?” Kevin looked at him imploringly. 

“I mean,” Neil faltered. “He may have not said my name. But they were talking about me, so who else could it have been about?” 

“Literally anyone,” Kevin sat back in his chair, looking more relaxed. “He wasn’t talking about you then. If you didn’t hear your name,” he added to clarify. 

 Neil felt that fury rise up through his chest again. He tried to work through his calming breathing exercises that Ruby had taught him. He forced himself to keep reading, “Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it. I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it. After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own. Will you mail back my things while I walk home alone?”

“I asked you to change the lyrics,” Neil bit out angrily, his voice rising in anger.

“And I did when it was necessary ,” Kevin all but yelled back. “I changed words in the next few lines, look!” 

“But you keep my old sweater scarf from that very first night week. 'Cause it reminds you of freedom innocence, and it smells like me. You can't get rid of it, 'cause you remember it all too well.” Neil glared at Kevin. “You changed sweater to scarf. That’s nothing” 

“Andrew knows you left a sweater at Betsy’s house; I changed it to a scarf because the one syllable sounds better rhythmically,” Kevin supplied helpfully. Neil read through the changes again, and found himself agreeing. “And now Andrew will never know this song is about him,” Kevin added sarcastically. 

Neil threw his pen at him. Kevin let out an undignified shriek, which made Neil snort. Kevin glared at him for a few moments, while Neil reviewed the changes again. 

“I couldn’t think of an ending,” he told Kevin apologetically. Kevin stared blankly at him. Neil continued, “' Cause there we are again when I,- I don’t know what to put after ‘ when I.’ When I what? When I cared about our friendship? When I was grateful you stood up for me? When I was glad someone cared about me when nobody else did? Nothing sounds good.” 

Kevin gaped at him, “The obvious choice is ‘love,’ Neil. ‘ ‘Cause there we are again when I loved you so. Back before we lost the one real thing we’ve ever known.’ How did you not see that?” 

Neil grimaced, “But I don’t love Andrew. I care about him, but I don’t like, love him or want to date him.” Kevin shot him a suspicious look, and Neil sighed. “I’ve never wanted to date anyone. I’m just not,” he struggled for the right word. “Hardwired like that, I guess. I never understood the idea of love at first sight or thinking people are attractive. People are just people.” 

“Oh,” Kevin said, taking a few moments to think about Neil’s words. Neil squirmed in the silence; Ruby had given him some books and website printouts during rehab and Neil had come to the conclusion that he was most likely asexual. But, he also didn’t really want to label it. Labeling it felt permanent in his mind, and he wouldn’t say that he would never think someone was hot. He just didn’t ever expect to. 

“You do know that friends love each other and have break-ups, right?” Neil gave Kevin an exasperated look. “They do, ” insisted Kevin. “Sometimes losing a friend is worse than an actual break-up. You don’t really expect to lose a close friend. That unexpected loss can be equally devastating, if not more.” Neil looked at Kevin in surprise. Kevin shrugged, “When I stopped being friends with Riko, it felt like a breakup. He was horrible to me throughout our friendship, and I can see that now. But, at the time, he was my best friend in the entire world, and then it was over. It felt like losing a limb. It felt like my life was over.” 

Kevin took a deep breath, “Riko is a monster. Andrew would never treat anyone like Riko, because while Andrew can be a dick, he isn’t a monster.” Kevin settled back into his chair again, “Honestly, I would expect how you’re feeling to be even worse considering Andrew was your only friend for years.” 

Neil tamped down the instinctual urge to separate Andrew from Riko in any form, and took some time to think about what Kevin said. Everything Kevin said he had felt; losing Andrew felt like losing a limb. It had taken all of Neil’s energy to get out of bed this morning and to even call Kevin to come over. It had taken even more energy to ignore each and every one of Andrew’s calls. 

“You could be right,” Neil said quietly. 

“I know I am,” Kevin replied loftily. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about the ending. I think you should add a few more lines drawing back to the main themes of the song. To remind the listener the things you’re remembering about this relationship. You can talk about the wind in your hair, maybe something about the stairs, because it rhymes, and-” Neil let Kevin chatter on at him, and blindly agreed with his suggestions. Kevin had made solid changes to the song; Neil couldn’t argue with any of them. 

A few hours later, Kevin had created a simple drum beat on Neil’s soundboard to go with Neil’s guitar chords. Kevin insisted that Neil needed to come to Kevin’s studio sometime later this week, so Kevin could play the real drums and get an authentic feel for the melody. Neil agreed and all but shoved Kevin out the door. 

He wandered back towards his kitchen, when he heard a knock at the door. Neil sighed, Kevin must have forgotten something. He made his way back to his front door and opened it. 

It was Andrew. 

Neil’s stomach plummeted, and his heart went into overdrive. Andrew stared at him blankly, silently. Neil froze; part of him wanted to slam the door and run and hide, part of him wanted to pull Andrew inside and apologize. Part of him wanted to scream, if I’m not important enough for you, who is?  

Andrew raised an eyebrow expectantly, and looked over Neil’s shoulder. Neil sighed to himself and stepped back to let Andrew inside. Andrew made his way over to the living room and stopped by the window. He stared out, seemingly ignoring Neil. Neil felt anger rising in his chest. 

“If you came over to check on me, I made it home safely. You can leave now,” Neil said sharply. Andrew’s shoulders tensed, the only indication he had heard Neil’s words. Silence descended on the apartment again, furious and tense. 

“I’m trying to decide,” Andrew said suddenly, “whether I should let you explain yourself or if I should kill you first.” Despite himself, Neil felt himself relax. Andrew only ever threatened acts of violence when he felt vulnerable. 

“What if I don’t want to explain myself to you,” Neil asked snottily. He fell into the nearest armchair, avoiding looking at Andrew. 

“Well, then you can call Bee and explain to her why you felt it was necessary to flee her house in the middle of the night,” Andrew replied. 

Neil felt a stab of guilt pierce his heart. Bee had been so kind to him and he had shoved her hospitality back in her face. He aimed his gaze at his feet while Andrew waited him out. Neil knew he had to come clean. But, he was still so angry. Angry that Andrew had said he had nowhere else to go. Angry that Aaron knew so much about his past. Angry that Andrew had said he wasn’t important. Angry that no matter how hard he had tried, he still hadn’t been able to fit into Andrew’s family. 

“I can see the wheels in your brain trying to turn, rabbit,” Andrew bit out. “Why did you run home?” 

“Because I had nowhere else to go,” Neil shot back mockingly. His heart was pounding; he wondered distantly if he had ever been this angry before in his life. 

Andrew narrowed his eyes at him, clearly trying to place the words Neil was quoting. His eyes widened minutely, then he glared at him. “You heard.” 

“Your cute chat with Aaron about how I’m a sad little mafia child with nowhere to go? Yeah, I heard it.” Neil dug his fingers into the armrests, his knuckles turning white with tension. 

“All I said was the truth,” Andrew replied. “You didn’t have anywhere else to go, and, for the last time, I invited you.” When Neil continued to glare silently at the wall above Andrew’s shoulder, he stomped over to Neil. “I don’t invite anyone to Bee’s house.”

This surprised Neil and without thinking, he asked, “Not even Kevin?” 

Andrew snorted, “Why would I ask Kevin?” 

“He’s your best friend.” 

Andrew sounded strained, “Neil, you’re my best friend.” Neil looked at Andrew in confusion. Andrew’s face looked like he had swallowed a lemon. Neil snorted, and Andrew grimaced, “I can’t believe you made me say that out loud.” 

“You can’t take it back,” Neil started to smile, but then he remembered. “You said,” he faltered. Andrew sat down on the couch adjacent to his chair and waited for him to get his thoughts together. Andrew had just said that Neil was his best friend, and Kevin had said that Andrew would never say that Neil wasn’t important. Could Kevin have been right? 

“You said I wasn’t important enough,” Neil said. Kevin was never right. 

Andrew’s eyebrows shot up in a moment of shock; and a look of realization flitted across his face, followed by what looked like embarrassment. Andrew then schooled his expression down to its usual calm slate. After a few beats of silence, Andrew said through clenched teeth, “That wasn’t about you.” 

Neil watched in shock as the tips of Andrew’s ears turned pink. “Then-” 

Andrew clenched his jaw, seeming to be arguing with himself before sighing and bringing out his phone. He swiped through a few photos, then gave it to Neil. There was a photo of a man with dark hair and a gleaming smile on it. It was a shirtless selfie on a beach. Neil stared blankly at the photo. Was he supposed to know who this is? 

“Am I supposed to know who this is?” 

Andrew sighed, and took his phone back. “No. That’s Ricky. I’m seeing him.” 

The earth tilted under Neil’s feet, and his stomach swooped a bit. “Oh. Well, that’s nice,” Neil said after a silence that was definitely too long. 

Andrew huffed. “Try to sound more enthusiastic,” he deadpanned. 

“No,” Neil protested. “He seems,” he hesitated, realizing he knew nothing about Ricky. “Shirtless.” 

“He seems shirtless,” Andrew repeated, a smile hiding in the corners of his mouth. 

Neil buried his face in his hands. This was mortifying. “So, he’s not important enough,” Neil asked, desperately trying to get back on track.

“Yes,” Andrew replied immediately. “I would never let him meet Bee.” Neil felt something settle in his chest, a puzzle piece clicking into place. “Or Aaron,” Andrew added. “Despite his overbearing qualities.” 

Neil shrugged, “He’s trying to look out for you.” 

Andrew shrugged, “He doesn’t need to.” 

“I’m glad someone does,” Neil said truthfully. “I’m sure I gave him more reason to hate me after running away.” 

“If you care that much, you can make it up to him at Christmas,” Andrew said nonchalantly. “He and Katelyn got the weekend off, so they’ll be there for three days.” 

Neil blinked up at Andrew. “You want me to go back with you?” Something dangerously close to hope started blooming in Neil’s chest. 

Andrew rolled his eyes. “I wanted you to go to Thanksgiving with me, and I wanted you to act normal. Not that weird skittish rabbit performance you did all week.” Neil ducked his head a bit in shame. “Still trying to be someone you’re not.” 

“It’s hard,” Neil protested. “I wanted them to like me.” 

“Katelyn likes everyone, Bee has the patience of a saint, and if Aaron had liked you I would have kicked you out,” Andrew stated firmly. “You don’t have to pretend with me or them.” 

Neil felt his throat tighten, and nodded his head when he couldn’t get the words out. Andrew let him compose himself; his phone buzzed, but he made no move to answer it. Neil wondered idly if it was Ricky. 

“I’m not in contact with anyone from the mob,” Neil confessed. Andrew shifted his full attention to him, gazing at him silently. “My uncle from England visited me while I was in rehab. He gave me his number, but I’m not going to use it.” Andrew nodded once, seeming pleased with this response. 

“If you ever hitchhike again,” Andrew said solemnly, “I’ll toss you off a bridge.” Neil laughed, relief coursing through his body. He wasn’t going to lose Andrew. 

“Will you stay?” Neil got up, “I think I still have some of your ice cream.” Andrew looked at his phone, and it occurred to Neil that Andrew might rather spend time with Ricky instead. His stomach clenched uncomfortably, and he shoved down his feelings. If Andrew wanted a break from his drama, then he was allowed to leave. 

Andrew tossed his phone to the side, and dragged Neil’s fuzzy blanket off the back of the couch. “Get me the jar of Nutella and I’ll consider forgiving you for making me forget the Thanksgiving leftovers at Bee’s house.” 

Neil grinned and headed into his kitchen. They would be fine. 

—- 

2 months after Suit

“Andrew!” Neil wandered through his apartment, searching for his boyfriend. Boyfriend , he thought giddily to himself. He suppressed the urge to giggle. Love was embarrassing, who knew? Now Neil knew. 

He poked his head into his recording studio, and found Andrew in his armchair, pouring over what looked like an old journal. Andrew didn’t look up from the journal, his brows drawn together as if he was concentrating. “Hey,” Neil called gently, not wanting to startle him. 

Andrew waved him over, and Neil happily sank into Andrew’s lap. Andrew wrapped an arm around Neil’s waist, shoving the open notebook into Neil’s face. “Is this song about me?” 

“Which one,” Neil said, trying not to go cross eyed at the pages being shoved into his face. 

“All Too Well ,” Andrew said. “Is All Too Well about me?” 

“Yes?” Neil was confused. He had always assumed that Andrew knew and didn’t say anything. “I thought you knew that?” 

“You changed all the words,” Andrew replied defensively. “I thought you used our trip as inspiration for an autumn themed sob story.”

“Most of my songs are about you, in one way or another,” Neil said, shrugging. It was true, why bother to hide it. 

Andrew was silent again and Neil glanced down, only to see Andrew staring back at him with a dumbfounded look on his face. It was so unlike Andrew to show such obvious emotion, Neil felt his eyes widen in response. “But this is one of your saddest songs,” Andrew said, slowly. 

Neil nodded, resting his cheek against Andrew’s head, burying his nose in Andrew’s hair. “In my defense,” Neil began, “I thought you thought that I was unimportant.” The arm around his waist tightened, drawing him farther into Andrew’s embrace. “I was in my feels.” Neil felt Andrew tense underneath him, and he smothered a grin in Andrew’s hair. 

“You need to stay off Twitter,” Andrew muttered. He closed the journal and tossed it aside. He snaked his other arm around Neil, his fingertips gently tracing Neil’s hip bones. Neil shivered, and pressed a quick kiss to the top of Andrew’s head. 

“How does it feel to be my eternal muse,” Neil teased. 

Andrew pretended to consider this, all the while dragging his fingers farther and farther down Neil’s hips, towards the tops of his thighs. “Pretty good from where I’m sitting,” Andrew murmured, before pulling Neil down into a searing kiss.