"A family is what you make it."

[everythingdesigner]

Who: Tristan Hewitt and Adrian Hewitt
What: Family Catch-up
Where: Adrian's place
When: Sunday morning

If there was one thing Tristan's family were well-versed in, it was being busy with work. They were all professionals, and Tristan and Adrian both had high-paced and demanding jobs. Even though Adrian had arrived in New York to move here, it had been timed with Fashion Week, so Tristan hadn't had time to scratch himself. Then Adrian had an overseas business trip once Fashion Week was over, and things kind of hit the fan, so the timing was just against them.

They had made arrangements to catch up when Adrian got back, but then he was delayed in Monaco, so they took a raincheck. Which was fine, because work was extra busy at the moment with Paris and Mikey away on their honeymoon and wouldn't be back for another couple of weeks yet. Their wedding had been superb. As every bit as lavish, large, expensive and exclusive as it was expected to have been. Paris didn't hold back on anything, and the day went without a hitch. It was a great night, everyone having fun and enjoying themselves. Even Mikey's twin and his partner seemed really cosy, which was nice to see because Mikey had told Tristan some of the backstory there. It couldn't be easy.

Adrian sent Tristan a text saying he was back and could drop by whenever he wanted to. The text had come through last night, so Tristan didn't run over and immediately intrude. He missed his brother a lot, but they were in touch all the time. Distance was easier with technology these days. When Adrian answered the door, they gave each other a huge hug. People who knew Tristan might not realise he loved hugs and he was close to his family.

"It's good to see you, Ad. How was your trip? Do I get to meet the mysterious Richie?" he ask, a teasing smirk on his lips.

[ FACEBOOK ]

[intothegroove]

Me after rehearsal all day and understudying tonight.

[ FACEBOOK ]

[newhorizon]

Note to self: Never play Words With Friends with your hospitalised bored son.

"No particular place to go."

[actionthisday]

Who: Callum and Casey McDonald
What: That awesome moment when things get awesome
Where: Case's room, Mount Sinai
When: Monday morning

Casey had been unconscious for days because he took a pretty nasty bump to the head that actually caused a fracture in his skull. Luckily, it wasn't severe enough to cause any brain damage but when he woke up, he was in a lot of pain so they dosed him up on painkillers that knocked him out all over again. Despite the fact they had a massive fight before Casey wrote himself off and got hurt on their dad's birthday, Callum hadn't left his side. The only time he moved was to go home, shower, shave and change his clothes. He had been sleeping here in a recliner chair at Casey's side night after night, and everyone knew that telling him to do otherwise was pointless.

So, Casey spent ages sleeping and Callum spent ages sitting and editing videos for his college work. There was also the plus that Casey had been moved to Mount Sinai, so Ethan came and sat with him for his breaks. They had made an incredible breakthrough with their relationship now Ethan had confided in what was happening. What actually happened was they slept together, in a very tender and calm way, but it had evolved their relationship and they were on the next level now. Callum just hadn't had a chance to tell Case any of this.

Now, he was scrolling his emails that he let lapse for a couple of days. Mostly because his heart wasn't really in socialising much. This particular email he had opened with a frown, assuming it was spam. As soon as he got through it, though, he nearly dropped his phone. "Oh, fuck!" he cried, mouth dropping open. It was closely followed by a mumbled, 'Fuck what?' and he looked up to see that Casey was awake, just, looking at him. It was the most Casey had said to him since their fight.

[ FACEBOOK ]

[zedblaze]

"Stone Sour - Wicked Game [HQ and Lyrics]" (Watch on YouTube)

"There's always something there to remind me."

[likefatherlikeson]

Who: Justin Campbell and Presley Monroe
What: Reaching out
Where: Home
When: Monday morning

Justin wanted to die. Not that that was news in the literal sense. His mental health was no news to anyone. He was so exposed and now even more so. This was in the sense that he felt so horrifically sick, that he wanted to die to make it stop. He had been a right off the past two nights and all of yesterday. Completely and utterly. When he finally woke up in the early hours of this morning, he had been in a really bad way. He had been agitated, it felt like he had things crawling all over him and he ended up sitting on the floor in the corner of his room just sobbing because he had this inner icy terror that felt like it wasn't going to stop. The illegal drugs mixed with his medically prescribed medication had been a bad mix.

There was an awareness he had doctors around him. There was an awareness his family were there, and Dory was there. He didn't know when he was giving shots of more meds that subdued him and put him back to sleep. He didn't know his dad had been sobbing just as hard as he was seeing him in that terrible state, and refusing to let anyone forcibly admit Justin to a psych unit. There was a lot he wouldn't remember. When he woke up again just a couple of hours before, he was a lot more calm and less tortured. Just incredibly sick. Sick, sweaty, sore, dizzy.

Now, he was sitting on the side of his bed in his just his underwear. He had his forearms resting on the edge of a bucket in his lap that he was heaving into but there was nothing in him to come up anymore. In one arm, his Uncle Sam had put in a drip for fluids that he could have administered at home. His dad had stood by his resolve that admitting Justin to hospital could be the worst thing they did. Which mean, this had to be dealt with at home for now. If only just to see if Justin could overcome this. Presley was there, having come to see how Justin was and asked if he could see Justin. Justin was too sick to protest anything.

"I just want it to stop," he moaned, exhausted.