It seemed a reoccurring, and frankly infuriating, trend for the group; pushing away or ignoring their problems.

You see, pushing away or ignoring your problems may make them seem as if they have gone away or been solved, when in reality they are actually just getting bigger or worse while unattended.

Luckily for them, there wasn't really any way in which Damien could get any bigger or any worse than he already was. What he could get, though, was closer. And that was exactly what he was doing.

In fact, he must have been around ten minutes away when George finally decided that they really ought to figure out what they planned to do. There was always the option of running away and spending the day elsewhere. There was no clear way in which Damien would be able to figure out their whereabouts other than from posted photos, from what they could tell, after all.

But this could also be another chance to gather more evidence against him, if they play their cards right.

Clay wasn't keen on the idea at all, for obvious reasons. The largest and most prominent of all being George's safety. George, for lack of a nicer phrase, could not give less of a shit.

"There are four of us, Clay, we'll be fine." George reassured for possibly the thousandth time. Clay pulled a skeptical face, letting out another high pitched, non-convinced hum.

"Seriously, dude, chill. The worst he'll do is try and smooth talk George into believing he wants what Damien wants. You guys know what manipulation and gaslighting sound like, right?" Clark's voice crackled in and out of the speaker of Jethro's phone.

"Aren't you driving?" Geo piped up before the others had the chance to respond.

"Speakerphone, honey-pie, it's just like singing along to music." Clark reassured easily and Geo could almost picture the way he shrugged and waved his hand nonchalantly. He changed subjects quickly just to be certain. "You do know the big phrases to look out for, right? You can think quicker and smarter if you have an idea of what he'll try on you."

"Gaslighting is like... 'you're over reacting' and stuff, right?" Ophelia asked, the others nodding and waiting for confirmation.

"Bingo." There was a click that they could only assume had been Clark's fingers. "He's gonna use a lot of 'you's and 'we's and almost never 'I'." He continued. "There's a chance he'll use some backhanded compliments. Inflate your ego a bit, get on your good side and make it seem like he's your best bud."

"He'll invalidate your feelings, make you think you're overreacting or being too sensitive. He'll try and flip the blame onto you, if there is any. Anything to twist your world around and make you think he's your big ticket, your hero, your everything. Whatever he needs to be to have you under his control."

"Your job, Mr Georgie Worgie," George grimaced at the nickname "is to give him exactly what he wants."

There was a chorus of 'what's before Clay interrupted largely.

"No."

"Clay-" Clark started, working to explain his reasoning, but Clay interrupted once more.

"No, Clark! We've trusted you so far, even though we knew nothing about you, but you can't just tell George to let himself be manipulated by the very guy that has been ruining our lives for months now." Clark stayed painfully silent but it seemed as though Clay wasn't finished anyways.

"I'm beginning to wonder who's side you're actually on."

"Clay!" George called. "Stop being an asshole for a second and calm down. He's not telling me to let myself be manipulated, just let him explain first and then we can decide together whether it's too dangerous or not." Clay would have tried protesting if it weren't for the stern, silencing glare he received.

After a stretched, awkward silence, Clark's voice crackled back to life. "For as long as he believes he has you under his control, he will let his guard down. He'll get confident and we'll have more chances to gather more evidence." He explained slowly. "React how he wants you to and he'll practically make and seal the case himself. You'll know what he's doing but he won't know that you do."

"And how are you so confident?" Ophelia asked. Clark would pretend her distrust didn't hurt. It was his own fault for hiding in the first place. Once it's all over and finished, he'll fix it, he decides.

"I've know the guy all nineteen years of my life and he's been like this for eleven of them. It's easier to deal with when you know the pattern." He replied dismally, though his voice was sunny as ever. "You live and you learn, as they say." He brushed off.

"Act dumb and naïve, maybe even present him with a fake weakness if you're confident enough in your acting skills. If the weakness you present is something he thinks he can exploit, you have a chance of gathering evidence while throwing him off course." He was beginning to close his argument.

"At the end of the day, it's up to you how far you take it. We'll get what we need regardless, this is just the quicker option." He finished, right in time for his signal to fade. The other five sat in a contemplative silence, the beep of the reconnecting tone their only company in busy minds.

"Do you trust me, Clay?" George finally asked, holding up his phone level with his eyes and watching as Clay fought with himself. Jethro, Ophelia and Geo had half the mind to leave the room in order to give them some privacy.

"Of course I trust you.." He sighed after some internal struggle.

"Then let me do this." George replied earnestly. "I'll be safe, I'm not stupid."

"You're not?" Clay decided to joke and George's scoff quickly turned to a wide smile. Before he had the chance to properly reply, the doorbell sounded.

"We're about to find out."

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@GeorgeNotFound
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HELL YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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I refuse to believe George took this photo, it looks like a stock image. Mans can't fool us.
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"Are you sure I can't get you anything?" George asked in a suffocatingly polite tone, having hung up and ushered the other three from the room. They lingered within earshot, Ophelia's phone set up and recording, tucked away between various old dvds.

"Just the water is lovely, thank you." Damien replied, placing the glass on the coffee table and watching as George curled himself into the single chair beside the sofa he resided on.

"What can I help you with?" George continued, pulling his sleeves down over his hands and pressing the tips of his fingers to his bracelet.

"I simply felt it was due time to meet the object of my star's affections." Damien replied, leaning forward slightly onto his elbows. He clasped his hands before his chest. "Ensure you had all pure intentions, if you will." He provided. George nodded along with a sweet smile.

"You should have gotten in touch sooner, then!" He replied kindly and Damien chuckled.

"A busy man such as yourself? I wasn't certain you'd have the time." Damien complimented with the shadow of a charming grin. George giggled to cover up the way he choked down the bile in his throat.

"As Clay's manager, I must focus on the well being of the band's career above all else, I hope you understand this." Damien stated and George simply nodded. "That means there is a chance we'll have to... play up Clay's appeal with others. It'd reflect badly on myself as a manger if we didn't and we don't want that."

The idea that came to George's mind was equal parts stupid and smart. Clark had said to present Damien with a fake weakness. He just hoped an old insecurity would do the trick.

"With others?" George asked in a crestfallen tone. He watched astutely as Damien shifted. His back straightened minutely and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards for a fraction of a second. He then lent back in a faux-open stance.

"I'm sure that you understand that Clay has... other options, do you not?" Damien asked innocently. George spent a moment on shifting and repositioning himself meticulously in his seat, knitting his eyebrows, biting his lip and praying he looked the part he was attempting to play.

"No, yeah, I knew that..." George replied in a quiet voice. He sniffled and pressed his tongue to his the inside of his cheek to be certain.

"Oh, George." Damien stated patronisingly. "Don't be upset. Surely you must have at least had an idea? I mean no offence but, well, Clay certainly isn't the reacher in this relationship."

George inwardly pushed the words off of his chest with each sweeping buzz of the bracelet on his wrist and the cold reassurance of the ring on his finger. Outwardly, he let his face fall.

"The fans these days are extremely impressionable." George bit back his comment of 'you would know well enough'. "It'd be a shame if they grew up with such high expectations of what mediocrity can achieve, only to be disappointed."

"It's our job as leaders to show them the truth."

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