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Wooyoung doesn’t let himself become emaciated. Or maybe he does. He can’t really tell.
—————
It’s apparent that he’s different when he realises he eats more on camera than he does when he’s in the dorms. ‘Keeping up appearances’, he tells himself as he eats mouthful after nauseating mouthful. ‘It’s so people don’t know.’ He reassures himself as he looks to his empty plate.
It’s apparent that he’s different when he rejects snacks and halfs his portions when the cameras aren’t packed into their dorm.
It’s apparent that he’s different when he talks himself into going past the goal he set himself.
He doesn’t work out to lose weight, no, he thinks muscles are an eyesore on him - looking a bit too much like fat for comfort when they’re hidden by clothes. He doesn’t work out, he just restricts.
But that’s normal.
He doesn’t do it all the time, either. There’s nothing abundantly wrong with him, he just likes dieting sometimes. It keeps his body looking the same. Yes, he cries when he sees his favourite pair of jeans aren’t quite as baggy as they used to be. But that’s normal, right?
—————
“Wooyoungie, open up.” Seonghwa says as he holds a spoon before Wooyoung’s face. They’re the only two in the dorm right now, and Seonghwa decided to make dinner.
Wooyoung does as he’s told and accepts the thick soup into his mouth. It’s delicious. Wooyoung wishes it wasn’t.
He offers a smile, tight around the eyes but genuine looking enough to pass as real. “It’s good, hyungie. How long do you think it’ll be before it’s ready?” Wooyoung doesn’t want to ask. He does anyway.
“Not long, I’d guess ten minutes? We don’t need to set the table today, it’s just us. We can eat on the couch.” Seonghwa says. Wooyoung wishes he could manage a smile as pretty and heartfelt as Seonghwa. “Just don’t tell Hongjoonie, ok? Our secret.” He giggles.
Wooyoung likes secrets. Especially when he’s in on them.
“Sure.” This smile is a bit more real. Seonghwa deserves that much at least.
He spends the next few minutes talking himself into having the soup before it’s served. And wouldn’t you think that should have been the first sign he’s slipping back into his habits?
“Wow hyungie, that smells so good!” And for fuck sake, it really does. It’d be a lot easier to turn it down if Seonghwa hadn’t taken his preferences into consideration.
But Wooyoung hasn’t trained himself to be comfortable with an empty stomach yet, so he accepts the lovingly prepared bowl onto his lap and crosses his legs so it doesn’t fall. He shouldn’t have his feet up on the furniture, but he doesn’t think he should have this much soup either, so he ignores both nagging feelings and digs in.
He hates himself a little more with each mouthful.
—————
‘The soup was too heavy in my stomach.’ He thinks as he sits by the toilet bowl.
—————
That’s as far as his plans to cut back on food go for a good few weeks. He pushes it to the back of his mind amidst the wonderful chaos that is Kingdom: Legendary War and lets himself enjoy the packed schedule.
It isn’t until Felix jumps on him for their Wolf performance that his head starts acting up again.
—————
“Yongbokkie, you’re so tiny and easy to hold!” Wooyoung shouts when the cameras aren’t rolling. The little Aussie giggles. Wooyoung wonders if Felix would still giggle if he could hear his hyung’s other thoughts. The ones he keeps to himself. ‘So light, it’s like holding a giant pixie.’ ‘I wonder what he eats in a day to remain so lightweight but fit…’
It’s the last thread keeping his healthy diet together.
Why does it always get slightly worse each time he goes on one of his weight loss fixations?
—————
“Wooyoung-ah, go make us sandwiches.” Hongjoong orders. ‘Us’, meaning Hongjoong, Wooyoung and Seonghwa. Hongjoong’s eyes don’t leave the computer screen, but he still sees Wooyoung shake his head. He sees it in the reflection, probably. “Ham, if we’ve got any. Lettuce and tomato works just as good.”
“Joongie hyung, I’m comfy.” He isn’t, but he’d rather not be around food today. Today feels like a particularly bad day.
Hongjoong takes off his headphones. He’s working on songs for the new album. “Did it seem like a question to you?” (Wooyoung regrets saying he likes Hongjoong’s sternness.)
“I’ll go, if he really doesn’t want to.”
Bless Seonghwa’s soul.
“No, Wooyoungie can go. I need your opinion on this line.”
“Fine, hyung. I’ll go. You want the same as Joongie hyung, hwa hyung?”
At Seonghwa’s nod, Wooyoung goes to the kitchen.
He pretends he ate while he’s making his hyung’s sandwiches. His hyungs don’t even ask.
—————
Yeosang seems angry with him. Yeosang often seems angry at everyone most times, but he seems especially angry with Wooyoung.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He asks with a straight face and a flat voice.
No, not flat. Exhausted.
Why is he exhausted?
Wooyoung bites his lip. “What do you mean, Sangie?” Wooyoung pretends he didn’t just reject the offer of snacks.
Yeosang inhales. He seems like he’s preparing himself for something. “I mean… this.” He gestures to Wooyoung’s body. “You’re getting so tiny.”
“Ok, and?”
“The fuck do you mean ‘and’?”
“It’s just a diet, Sangie. It’s normal with our job.”
Tears burn Yeosang’s eyes. No, this isn’t normal. Shaking his head, he sighs. “Don’t make me tell Hongjoong.”
“Why would you-”
“If you don’t get your shit together, I’ll tell him. I’m not losing my closest friend over a few pounds.”
Yeosang offers him the snack once again.
It tastes surprisingly good.
It doesn’t taste as good on the way back up.
—————
Wooyoung is confused. Why can he feel his ribs poking out, but only see fat in the mirror?
—————
“San-ah, I think I need help.” It’s scary to think, and even scarier to say out loud.
But he really does. Wooyoung is starting to scare himself, a bit. He’d rather not do this alone.
Wooyoung tells San everything. ‘It’s not a problem, I just diet sometimes. Sometimes I take it too far.’ He explains. He doesn’t mention the bathroom, though. That’s between him and the cold tiles under his knees. Wooyoung likes secrets.
San frowns. “Thanks for telling me… but… why me? Why not Yeosang? Or Hongjoong hyung?”
Smiling bitterly, Wooyoung shakes his head. It takes a surprising amount of energy. “Yeosang would tell Hongjoong. Hongjoong would tell Seonghwa. Seonghwa would tell the manager, then God knows what would happen.”
“And you don’t want them to know?”
“No.”
—————
They don’t see Mingi standing by the door.
—————
“Thank you for telling me, Mingi. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
—————
Wooyoung regrets telling San. San, kind, caring, compassionate San. San who watches him at every meal time. Because what the fuck? Telling San didn’t automatically give him the right to watch him.
He and the bathroom floor become much better acquainted.
He doesn’t consider that he’s really, definitely going too far this time.
—————
“You’re sure you heard them right?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“And it’s definitely Wooyoung?”
“Yes.”
“Hm…”
—————
Wooyoung ignores the black spots that flood his vision when he bends over. He ignores how easily his nails snap. He pretends his hair is so thin because of the dye and the bleach. He likes how much his veins stick out.
Tells himself he doesn’t want to die, he just wouldn’t mind not existing sometimes.
It’s only a problem if he lets it be one.
—————
“Youngie hyung, your hands are so cold! Get them off me!” Jongho exclaims, ducking out of the way of Wooyoung’s hands trying to pinch his cheeks. “How the hell are they so cold?”
“Sorry!” He giggles. “But you know what they say, cold hands, warm heart!”
Can liars really have warm hearts?
—————
Mingi feels so lost. He knows what he heard. He knows what San and Wooyoung were talking about.
So how come he sees Wooyoung eat two, sometimes three meals a day without fuss? How come he sees Wooyoung accept the snacks he’s offered? How come Wooyoung still shrinks if he eats so well?
He gets his answer when he walks past the bathroom after dinner.
—————
“He’s not restricting. He’s throwing up.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
—————
“Yunho, what’s up?”
“Wooyoungie, we need to talk.”
“Oh.”
Wooyoung doesn’t know what this is about. He doesn’t like secrets he isn’t in on.
“What do you need to talk to me about?”
“I know what you’ve been doing.” Yunho says simply, as if that one statement alone isn’t earth shattering to Wooyoung.
Feeling his heartbeat pick up and his hands get clammy, Wooyoung swallows thickly. How can his hands get clammy when they’re always cold? “What do you mean?”
“I think you know.”
—————
“I’m sorry, Yunho.”
“It’s ok, bud.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“Hm.”
—————
What a liar. What a fucking liar.
Wooyoung can’t see the hypocrisy in his own thought process.
—————
“Wooyoung, can I bother you for just a minute?” It’s one of the managers, the one Wooyoung is closer to. He nods, preparing to bring his bag. “You don’t need your things. We won’t be long. Bring your water though, if you want.”
Yunho looks at the manager and smiles. It’s a grim smile. It can barely be called a smile at all. “Hi, Yunho.” The manager greets. Yunho nods his head.
Odd, Wooyoung thinks.
—————
Turns out it wasn’t odd at all. Fucking snitch.
—————
“Wooyoung, correct?”
“I’m sorry, who are you?”
“I’m doctor Hana Choi. I’m a psychiatrist.”
—————
Oh.
—————
“You say you eat regularly?”
“Yes.”
“There aren't any foods you stop yourself from eating?”
“Not if I can help it, no. I really like food.”
“Do you make yourself throw up, at all?”
Ah. Now that’s a question, isn’t it?
Oh well.
“I mean I did once, but that’s because I found out it wasn’t cooked right. Didn’t really fancy food poisoning. Otherwise, no. I don’t.”
He’s never going to heaven, that’s for sure. Not with all these lies.
“Hm, strange. You say you eat healthily, you don’t make yourself throw up, and your BMI, while on the low side for someone as active as you are, is ok. Why are you here?”
Inhale. “Haven’t the faintest.” Exhale.
“I see.”
—————
The manager welcomes him into the car with a smile. “How was that?”
Wooyoung knows what to do. “Really confusing, actually. Neither of us knew why I was there. She says she’s been told something about an eating disorder..? Don’t really know why. We both agree I’m perfectly fine.”
—————
He avoids Yunho for the next few days.
He doesn’t eat for the next few days, either.
—————
“I don’t know what you were trying to pull, Yunho. I didn’t think you’d make up something like that. Did you just misunderstand or something?”
“I don’t… I don’t… I heard him… he told me… I…”
Yunho doesn’t know what to say.
—————
Wooyoung pretends to be fine for a couple of weeks. He eats normally with everyone else. It gets everyone off his back.
It’s so much easier to slip into his habits after that.
—————
Why’s it always worse the next time it happens?
—————
Wooyoung’s chest hurts.
Or rather, it doesn’t hurt as much as tingles uncomfortably. It only tingles because his heart is palpitating. It feels like it’s moving up his chest towards his throat and it’s beating so very quickly. He convinces himself it’s because of all the dancing.
His eyes widen in fear nonetheless.
It kind of feels like he’s dying.
Wooyoung knows he wouldn’t mind if he did.
—————
Stupidly, he thinks Yeosang forgot. He knows it certainly slipped his own mind for a while.
“What’s this?” Wooyoung asks.
Yeosang and Seonghwa are in his shared bedroom, standing by the door but not blocking it. It kind of creates the illusion that he could escape, if it pleases him. He knows he can’t.
“I told you, Wooyoung, if this shit carried on I’d tell Hongjoong. Consider yourself lucky, I told Seonghwa instead.” Wooyoung doesn’t feel particularly lucky. “You seemed ok, Wooyoungie.” Yeosang sounds like he might cry. Wooyoung doesn’t think he cares. Maybe he wants to care. Maybe he doesn’t have the energy to care.
He can’t remember the last time he wasn’t tired.
—————
“What’s going on with you, Youngie?” Seonghwa asks. He looks sad. He’s too pretty to look sad, Wooyoung thinks. His Seonghwa hyung has always been really pretty.
Wooyoung shakes his head. He hopes he doesn’t look as empty as he feels. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” He says. “I’m fine, Hwa hung.”
“That’s bullshit, Wooyoung. Stop bullshitting everyone. You need help.” Yeosang’s voice cracks, and Wooyoung figures it makes his own heart crack as well.
“Ok.” He breathes. “Ok.”
—————
“Sometimes I don’t eat. Sometimes, when I do, I get really mad at myself. I make myself throw it up.”
“Oh…”
“I don’t work out to lose weight. I don’t like… muscles. It doesn’t look right. Not on me.”
“Sometimes I think it’d be easier to be dead.”
“I don’t want to feel like this forever.”
Seonghwa holds his hand. “How old were you when this first started?”
He sighs. “I was seven. A boy at school said something dumb. Guess it just stuck.”
“Yeah…”
—————
“You know I have to tell Hongjoong, right?”
They’re sitting on Wooyoung’s bed, leaning against the wall. He’s in between Seonghwa and Yeosang. Strangely, he doesn’t feel trapped. Even more strangely, he feels comforted.
“I know.”
—————
“So.” Hongjoong starts. “Where do we start with this then.”