Make Me (Remdy)

We're All A Little Selfish

"What's up, cunt," Remington greets, putting his arm around Andy's shoulder. The man is talking to someone Remington hasn't met before, and the two come to a halt in their conversation at his arrival. 

"Who's he calling a cunt?" 

Andy shakes his head. "It's his name for me. Sorry. Remington, could you give us a second?" 

"What for?" Remington asks. 

"It really won't take long." 

"What won't take long?"

"Hon, please," Andy mutters. 

Remington folds his arms. "Fine," he says, and walks away. 

* * * 

Later, Andy is sitting with a solemn look on his face, and when Remington joins him, he says, "What do you want?" 

"Sorry?" 

"You should be sorry." 

Remington raises an eyebrow. "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

Andy shakes his head and picks up his phone. 

"Have I done something?" 

"You tell me."

"Just get to the point, Jesus Christ." 

"Shouldn't that be cunt?" 

"You're this mad because I called you a cunt? Alright, sorry. Gees." 

Andy gets up and leaves the room, turning because he knows Remington is following, and says, "You can't just waltz in and call people cunts, Remington." 

"It wasn't people, it was you. You know I don't really mean it, don't you?" 

"Honestly, I don't know what most of what you say really means at this point, but that's beside the point. He was about to offer me a new record deal and thanks to you, he and the deal are both gone." 

"Why do you need a record deal? The band's already signed." 

"Not for the band," Andy says. 

Remington frowns. "Then what for?" 

"You need to learn boundaries, Remington." 

"He was in the house, it's not exactly like I walked into a meeting." 

"That's not the point. You just fucked up something I'd been working on for years, Remington. Years." 

"The band is already signed, I don't understand why you'd-" 

"It's not for the band." 

"They what's it for?" 

"Will you just apologise?"

"Fine. I'm sorry for not knowing every little thing that goes on in your life at all times and that I didn't know that some random guy in the kitchen holds the key to your fucking happiness." 

"I'm serious, Remington." 

"So am I." 

"Just...grow up." He shakes his head as he speaks, and turns for the stairs. 

"I don't understand why you're mad," Remington insists. "Or why you'd need another record deal when the band's already signed." 

"I said, it's not for the band." 

"Yes, but what is it for?" 

"Me, alright?" 

Remington catches up to him. "You?" He asks. "You want a record deal?" 

A sigh. "Yes." 

"Why?" 

"Can't you work that one out?" 

"You're going solo?" 

Andy sits on a step. "Thinking about it." 

"You're leaving the band?" 

"No. No, of course not. I just-I have some ideas for some more pop-punk style songs and I want to see what else I can do, you know?" 

Remington is looking at him with a face of confusion. Then he loudly says, "That is so selfish." 

Andy closes his eyes and shakes his head. 

"You really just want it all, don't you? The fans, the marriages, the drinks, the sex, the band, and now your own fucking solo shit just so you can selfish your way into more fame and marriage." 

"What are you talking about? I've had one marriage, and it went awful, you know what happened with the drinks, you're more desperate for sex than I am most of the time, and the band is my own creation. I don't want it all, Remington, I just want to be satisfied with my own existence. Is that such a bad thing?" 

"Yes, because it's more than that and you know it!" 

"More, how?" 

"Once you start your own solo stuff, Andy, who's to say you won't find that you enjoy that more, and then soon enough, you'll leave the band for it, and guess who ends up with nothing all over again? I'll give you a clue. It sure as hell won't be you." 

"You know who's the selfish one?" He jabs his finger towards the guitarist. "You, Remington. You. All of this, you have a problem with, because it might effect you. You don't care what I want, you just want to make sure that no matter what, you won't be left to fend for yourself. You can't let me be happy for one second because it makes you feel sorry for yourself." 

"That's not true." 

"Oh, it is." 

"I'm sorry if I don't want to be alone, Andy!" 

"It's not that you don't want to be alone, it's that you don't want to be with anyone but me. And listen, as flattering as that is, there's no way that's healthy for either of us. I mean, you said it yourself. Co-dependency. You're terrified of me doing anything that doesn't involve you because if I'm without you, then maybe I'd never come back. Let me tell you something. That isn't going to happen. I'm not going to abandon you for a solo album, Remington. Why would I do that?"

Sighing, Remington sits beside him.

"It doesn't mean I'm going to bypass my own wants just to save you from your paranoia. If you love me, which I know you do, then you'd see that for this relationship to work, which I know you want it to,then you'd let me do this. How am I supposed to feel secure in our relationship if I'm constantly worried about what you'll do if I don't stay by your side twenty-four-seven?" 

"I need you, Andy. I can't just magically be okay with knowing you might leave me." 

"I'm not going to leave you." 

"Anyone can say that." 

"You're so fucking stubborn." He looks at the younger. "Look, whether I get a record deal or not, I will still be with you and I will still love you and want you, okay?" 

"Yes. Fine. Okay." 

"Good, now give it all to me." 

Remington raises his eyebrow. "By it all, I assume you mean-" 

"Yes. That."