Then one day, everything fell into place… and fell apart.

Taehyung comes running into the room at 1 in the morning, crying. He’s bruised and there’s a trickle of blood running down his head. I stand up. Taehyung flings himself at me and I instinctively hug him.

He’s so skinny… so fragile. I can feel his skeleton through his sweatshirt.

I’m fine.

He’s a skeleton.

Nothing but bones and a bit of skin.

Oh no.

No, no, no, no, no, no. No, not him, please not him, leave him alone. Please, take me, but not him, can’t be him, please not him.

“Bad bad bad, I wasn’t nice, I wasn’t pretty enough, I’m not perfect,” he wails. I shake my head.

Seokjin shaking his head.

“What happened, Tae?” I ask. Taehyung buries his head into my chest, hiccuping. “Tae?”

“He was mean,” Taehyung whimpers. “He was drunk and he was scary…” His voice trails off.

“He beat you… he’s been beating you,” I whisper. Taehyung nods.

“Help me, Yoongi… help me. I’m scared, I’m scared. I’m so scared.”

I’ll be fine.

I’ll be… worthless failure broken depressed stupid ugly fat suicidal help me save me love me… fine.

Really…

I’ll be… just look past the mask look at me really look at me… fine… really.

I’ll completely fine…

Just give me some time.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Pushing away meals. Looking at food, thinking of all the calories. The fat.

It’s the only thing I can control.

Control, control, control. The one thing I’ve been denied ever since Mom died. The one thing I lost forever when Jimin died. The one thing that’s been unattainable since Father smashed the piano. I want it badly, so badly.

My weight is the only thing I can control.

Taehyung watches me. Carefully, so carefully. So worriedly. There’s a plate of cookies in front of me. Taehyung doesn’t say anything. Just looks at me.

His eyes are pleading.

I try to move my hand. One bit of cookie won’t hurt, right? But it will, it will, and everything will fall apart. I’ll lose the control that took me so long to get. My hand stays at my side. I shake my head.

“I can’t… I can’t do this,” I whisper. Tears start to gather in my eyes. Taehyung whimpers.

“Please… please. Just one, please, just one, just eat one,” he pleads. He walks to my side and grabs my wrist. My wrist bones jut out. “You’re a skeleton,” he whispers. “Nothing but bones and a bit of skin.” I pull my wrist back. Taehyung’s big, sweet, innocent, kind eyes fill up with tears. He wipes his eyes. But still, tears run down his face.

“Please…,” he whimpers. “If not for yourself, then at least for me.”

“I… I can’t,” I whisper. “It’s… I… I’m sorry.” Taehyung keeps crying. I stand up and hug him. Taehyung whines softly.

“Stop… please…,” he whispers pleadingly. “Stop starving yourself, stop hurting yourself. Stop killing yourself…” He looks up at me. “Promise me that you’ll at least try?”

“I… I promise.”