TWO YEARS AGO:

Ross strummed a few chords on his guitar, then slammed it on the couch, frustrated. "Shit," he muttered angrily.

Just then, his older brother Riker walked in, whistling some obscure tune. He stopped abruptly when he saw Ross's expression.

"Whoa," he commented, sitting next to his younger brother. "What's up with you?"

"This fucking tune," Ross groaned. "I can't get it." He grabbed the sheet music and lyrics that Rocky, his second oldest brother, had dropped off for him.

"These lyrics suck," he snapped. "What the hell was Rocky thinking?"

Riker let out a low whistle. "Dude, you need to calm down." He took the sheets from Ross, reading them himself. "It's not the lyrics. Those are really good." He flipped through the sheet music as well. "This is good, too."

Ross rolled his eyes, irritated. "Then why the hell can't I play it?"

Riker shrugged. "Play it. Let's see."

Ross glared at his brother, but as usual, Riker matched his glare, causing Ross to back down. Sighing, he picked his guitar back up, and attempted to play the song again. And again, he stumbled through a few notes.

"See?" he groaned, flopping back on the couch. "It's awkward. I hate it."

Riker frowned, and thought for a minute. "You're forcing it," he finally said.

"What?"

"Try loosening up. Don't think too much. Just play like you know how," Riker instructed.

Ross paused, realizing he was probably right. He usually was.

Riker smirked. "Just try it. I'm looking forward to hearing it later at practice."

He got up to leave, and as he got halfway down the hall, he heard smoother, more natural guitar chords from behind him, along with a soft voice.

"Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep."

Riker grinned, and kept walking.

A WEEK LATER, AT THE CONCERT

"Take that money, watch it burn. Sink in the river, the lessons I learned."

Ross finished the song, chest heaving.

This song is fire, he thought as he watched the crowd go crazy.

He was sorry he had ever doubted Rocky, and he was grateful to Riker for making him see it.

"Thank you, everybody!" Riker yelled into his microphone. He looked over at Ross, smiling brightly, and raising his eyebrows as if to say, Told you so. He then joined Ross in the middle of the stage, along with Rocky, Rydel, and Ratliff. They took their final bow, and left the stage as the lights dimmed.

"That was amazing!" Ratliff shouted as they got backstage, picking Rydel up and spinning her around in his excitement. Rocky snickered, and the two blushed furiously as Ratliff set her back down.

Ross nodded in agreement. "Shout out to Rocky for making the best song ever!" He clapped his brother on the shoulder.

Riker put his arms around both of them. "And shout out to Riker for making you believe it." He smirked at Ross, and Rocky's expression changed to mock-hurt.

"What? You mean Ross didn't like my, well, not to brag, but my song that might as well have been written by Jesus himself?" He wiped away an imaginary tear.

"Yeah, yeah. I was wrong, okay?" Ross admitted, holding up his hands in defeat. His brothers laughed, but Rocky suddenly stopped to look at Riker.

"Bro, are you okay? You look a lot thinner."

Riker laughed, but Rocky picked up the nervous tone. "Calling me fat, Rocky?"

Rocky frowned. "Dude, I'm serious. You've been eating, right?"

Riker's smile faded, and he rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mom. And I've been brushing my teeth twice a day, getting at least eight hours of sleep, and showering at least once every day. Anything else?"

Rocky was going to continue, but seeing the look on Riker's face made him drop it.

"I'm going to get ready for the meet-and-greet," Riker said. "You guys should probably do the same." And with that, he turned and disappeared into the dressing room.

Ross shook his head at Rocky. "You're being dumb. Nothing's wrong with him." He followed Riker.

Rydel nudged Rocky. "What do you think is wrong with him?" she asked worriedly.

Rocky couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. "I don't know," he admitted. "But it's not good."

Stupid, Riker thought as he closed the dressing room door behind him. You're an idiot. You knew Rocky would notice.

He stared at himself in the mirror. He had gotten a lot thinner. Lifting his shirt, he realized that his ribs were starting to show. With a sinking feeling, he decided that if he didn't want his siblings to worry about him, he would have to start eating again. And sleeping, he added, as he noticed the dark circles around his eyes.

He would just have to find the motivation again.

For them, at least.

Just then, the door flew open. Riker yanked his shirt back down as Ross entered.

"Rocky's an idiot," he said, rolling his eyes. He scanned his older brother, shaking his head. "So what if you've lost a little weight? I'm jealous, man." He lifted his own shirt, revealing his tanned abs. "Actually, never mind."

Riker snickered, but felt a pang of sadness. He knew Ross idolized him, and would think of any other excuse before accusing Riker of any wrongdoing.

"Ross?" he started. This was it. He was going to tell his younger brother the truth. Maybe he would stop looking up to him. Maybe he had a chance of not being screwed up.

Ross turned away from his reflection to face his brother. "Yeah?"

Riker sighed. "I-" Say it. Say. It. But he looked at his baby brother, wide-eyed and innocent. And Riker knew that telling him would be a huge mistake. It would crush him.

He would just have to stick it out. Maybe try to get better.

For Ross. He had to.

Ross stared at him expectantly. "You…?"

Riker forced a smile. "We should go get everybody for the meet-and-greet." He stood up, and left to get the rest of the band, leaving a bewildered Ross in the dressing room.

Frowning, Ross knew there was something else. He just couldn't figure out what.

Why had Riker been losing weight? He had already been pretty skinny, so Ross couldn't see him having a body image problem.

So what was it? He could only think of one thing, but he got rid of that idea the second it popped in his head.

Riker was not depressed.

Right?