#remi;starter

“Hey, Duncan? You seen my planner? I need to write down tour dates, things like that.”

He can’t help that he’s a bit of a grouch this time of year. After all, his birthday is so close and all his parents ever seemed to think about was Christmas. He won’t deny that he’s fortunate, seeing as he got double the great gifts, but between the family gatherings and the weather, it brought his mood down. So, for now, he’s just curled up on the couch, a mug of tea in his hands, and some cheesy Christmas movie (Christmas with the Kranks, to be exact) on so he doesn’t really have to listen to anything at all.

“Someone threw these on stage while i was on tour.” He holds up the little pair of kitten ears, smiling soft but avoiding eye contact. “I kept ‘em ‘cause I thought they were kinda cute, but then the guys started bugging me about it and teasing. So I had to hide ‘em and... here we are. What do you think about them?”

“Snowing out,” he observed, monotonously. This is what he gets for sleeping all day the previous day, bags under his eyes from a sleepless night as he hovers over his tea and stares outside.

He’s not really expecting the little kitten ears to be in the fancy box, all wrapped up like it’s something extra special, but he puts them on anyway. They sit perfectly on Remi’s head, the tips of the ears just barely poking out from his hair, and astonishingly the exact same color. “They’re purr-fect. Almost wish I had a little tail to go with them. Why’re they so special?”

He’s trying to reach the chips off the top shelf, but his arms just aren’t long enough. “Blayne! Blayne, I’m too short!”

He hates shopping, especially when situations like this occur. All Remi wants is that bloody box on the top shelf, and he has to stand on his toes just to brush the tips of his fingers against it. He’s vaguely aware of another coming to help him, and he opens his mouth to protest but they have it down before he can make a sound. Turning around, he almost starts to glare at them, but then his eyes catch on their face and, well, he just can’t. “Thanks,” he states, taking the box from their hands and half praying that they don’t recognize him.