dire engagements

I don't know who I am, I don't know who I'll be

Remi doesn’t argue the point, though his smile turns a little lopsided instead, as if agreeing out of convenience rather than conviction. There’s no need to defend his beliefs, especially not when it's just as well that Isla doesn't understand how deep his core convictions really go, if only so that the why of it all isn't raised.

At the mention of producers, though, his brows lift. That earns more of his attention. Pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek, he glances sidelong at Isla. " Do you think it’d be worth it? Signing on, I mean." He shrugs one shoulder. "I could use the money...and I like working with the crew here, but is it a good gig, overall?"

Her comment about the episode being something special lingers in the air, and Remi’s smile grows a touch too slow, a touch too faraway. The sea-glass of his eyes clouds faintly as he murmurs, "I think so too."

Ronin’s voice calls him back. With a lift of his hand in quiet greeting, Remi pushes off from the van, offering Isla one last, flickering smile over his shoulder before heading toward the house. The porch creaks under his weight. Pausing on the bottom step, Remi glances up at Ronin and arches a brow. "Since the dining room table’s already flipped over once," he says dryly, "I think maybe table-tipping’s probably a bit on the nose. Maybe we should just start in the basement."

but there's a light in the attic and I swear it's calling me

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3