ONE

Luhan had never had a problem with his appearance and body weight until he was nearly twenty years old, sprawled out on the floor of the practice room, tired and sweaty after a long four hours of rehearsals for their debut.

It was a rainy afternoon of March the 6^th, 2011, and all twelve members had been tirelessly going through re-run after re-run of their debut single, perfecting formations and dance moves as a whole group, then splitting up into sub-groups and practising with six members. They’d gone through the choreography as a full group once more, before taking a well-earned break on the polished floors, sculling water and catching the breaths they’d spent so long puffing out.

Luhan had his arms splayed out beside him, lids heavy and chest heaving with every gasp of air he took. Junmyeon was kneeling beside him, using one hand to wipe away Luhan’s sweat with a cool, damp towel, and the other to fan him with a sheet of paper.

Too puffed out to thank the younger, Luhan smiled weakly at Junmyeon, who smiled back and nodded in response. He noticed the sweaty locks of hair sticking to Junmyeon’s forehead, and frowned, before sitting up and gently pushing him to the floor, clambering onto his chest and fanning him in return.

He’d expected an offer of gratitude, seeing as Junmyeon’s breaths were shallow, his face was flushed from the intense practising and he clearly needed to cool down, if anything more than anyone else – but he only grunted and pushed him off.

“You’re so heavy, Luhan,” he groaned, “don’t sit on me like that.”

Luhan subconsciously pushed his bottom lip out, and threw the towel at Junmyeon’s red face. “You’re mean.”

He expected Junmyeon to laugh it off and cool himself down, but his stony expression remained.

“Have you been following your diet?”

Luhan’s jaw dropped, and he watched Junmyeon push himself up onto his arms, leaning back onto his palms. He was about to respond, when Sehun suddenly crashed into him, and he cried out in pain. Ignoring the hasty ‘sorry!’ followed by mocking laughter from Zitao, Luhan turned back to the other.

“Of course I’ve been following my diet—”

“You’re really quite heavy, Luhan.” He watched Junmyeon sit up fully and cross his legs, furrowing his eyebrows. “I mean, I don’t want to be rude or anything. But you’re kind of weighty right now.”

“But—but I’ve been following my diet perfectly; and exercising right.”

Luhan looked upset, and crossed his arms insistently.

“I’m not fat.”

Junmyeon was quiet.

“Am I?”

“I never said that you were fat. I was just…making an observation.”

Luhan stared at Junmyeon, ignoring the occasional blows at his back from Baekhyun and Chanyeol sliding across the floor on cushions, in utter disbelief.

“I—but—muscle weighs more than fat, you know.”

Junmyeon blinked at him for a few moments, before leaning forward and pinching at Luhan’s middle, making him cry out in horror.

“W-What the hell?”

And then he realised – Junmyeon was pinching for fat. He was checking to see if he had fat on his stomach.

Gulping, Luhan looked up and down between the shirt draped over his tummy and Junmyeon’s unreadable expression, trying to decipher what he was thinking.

“Wh…what?”

Junmyeon only gazed for a little longer, before standing up and walking away to pour himself another cup of water. Luhan felt his heart sinking, and for the first time in a long while, he wanted to disappear into the floor.

Choking on his own breath, he looked down at his shirt once more, colour draining from his cheeks when he heard Kyungsoo groan and exclaim from the other side of the room, “I wish my legs were skinny like yours, Jongin!”

The wavering thoughts soon dissipated from Luhan’s mind when he distracted himself over the laborious work he pushed through for the rest of the night, including many more hours of dance practice and vocal training. When his schedule finally came to an end and he returned to the dorm, he collapsed on his bed the moment he reached it and didn’t get up until dinnertime.

His previous conversation with Junmyeon lingered at the back of his mind as he joined the other eleven at the dining table, but the thought was soon forgotten once he saw a homemade meal waiting – homemade meals were always something to look forward to, seeing as they often were given packaged diet foods to help with their weight. Salivating, he slid into the empty seat between Yixing and Chanyeol, picking up his utensils hungrily.

“Did you sleep well, Luhan?” Yixing asked kindly, leaning close so he could sprinkle salt into Luhan’s bowl. Knowing Yixing always over-seasoned his food; he frowned and covered the bowl with his hands, pushing the younger away.

“That’s enough salt, don’t you think?”

“Definitely not.”

Luhan sighed as Yixing yanked away his hands and emptied more of the crystals into his soup, stirring it with vehemence.

“I didn’t even sleep, anyway.”

“What a shame.”

Luhan scowled, and Yixing smiled softly, unfazed, spooning the overcooked noodles into the elder’s mouth caringly. Luhan was mildly surprised – Yixing almost never messed up his food, and while it wasn’t inedible, it definitely wasn’t up to standards.

Before he could make a comment, Junmyeon’s soft voice pierced through his eardrums, and he wanted nothing more than to spit the food in his mouth away.

“Yixing, you’re messing around with the diet balance. You know we have a strict sodium intake level – which means, no extra salt.”

Luhan bowed his head, and Yixing laughed it off. “It’s alright. I only added a pinch.”

“A pinch of salt creates a pinch of fat.”

The words stung, and the whole table fell silent at the ferocity in Junmyeon’s words. Luhan swallowed hard.

Mouth agape, Yixing turned to face Luhan, who had his fists balled in his lap, a tear already slipping down his cheek. Panicking, he stood up, grabbing Luhan’s bowl.

“Fine, I’ll make a new one. Luhan, you can eat my—”

“Forget it, Yixing.”

Voice broken and quivering, Luhan stood up as well, and gently pushed Yixing back into his seat.

“Luhan—”

“Forget it. I’m not hungry, anyway.”

Everyone stared after Luhan in astoundment as he retreated from the room, shoulders drooping, wiping away the stray tears that escaped from his eyes.

Nobody stopped him.

Luhan had locked the door of his shared bedroom while the others ate dinner, before clambering up the bunk bed ladder and collapsing backwards, crying into his hands. He wasn’t hysterical, but Junmyeon’s words were ringing in his mind, and it hurt. It really, really hurt.

He tucked his knees into his chest and cried harder, uncovering his face and wrapping his arms around his legs.

He’d always had a good relationship with Junmyeon – heck, he’d always had a good relationship with everyone. Junmyeon had cared for him a lot and supported him through most of his trainee days, especially when he was struggling with the difficult language barrier. They’d never fought before, or been rude to one another, and it came as a big slap in the face when Junmyeon had suddenly turned so utterly critical.

He wasn’t fat. He was sure he wasn’t fat.

Was he?

Hesitantly, Luhan unwrapped his arms from around his legs and sat up, sniffling and wiping his wet cheeks. He climbed off the bed and walked over to the full-length mirror in the corner, facing his reflection and trembling.

He wasn’t fat.

Glancing at the door one last time, he shyly grabbed the edges of his shirt and pulled it over his head, throwing it aside bitterly.

He wasn’t fat.

His throat felt congested with tears as he reached up to touch his chest, tracing along his bone structure and feeling unfamiliarly disgusted with himself. He lacked muscle, and his body was too feminine and frail.

Turning to his side, he ran both hands up and down his front, frowning at the slight prominence on his stomach – it wasn’t fat, more body shape, but Luhan took no notice of that. He knew it, but he also knew he wasn’t meant to be like that. He shouldn’t be this scrawny; he shouldn’t have a slight increase in his stomach area – he should be taller, fitter, more slender.

Maybe Junmyeon was right. Maybe he needed to stop eating so much. Maybe his diet was making him gain weight. He had never thought of himself as fat before – fat meant overweight, obese, someone who almost waddled as an excuse for walking. He wasn’t fat, in his mind – but to have one of his best friends make, not one, but two comments about his body, hurt. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

Suddenly, he didn’t like what he saw in the mirror anymore. He didn’t want to see that bump on his tummy. He didn’t want his collarbones to hide away underneath the little fat he was unhappily aware of. He wanted to be fit, built, and skinny.

His thoughts drifted back to the event in the practice room. After Junmyeon had walked away, he’d watched Kyungsoo admiring Jongin’s body as the tan boy shyly pulled off his shirt to cool down. The words rung in his head – “I wish my legs were skinny like yours, Jongin!” – and Luhan bit his lip.

Jongin was perfect. He was tall; he was slim, with delicate creases of abdominal muscles on his chest – not too little, not too much. His arms were thin but showed prominent muscle when flexed, and his legs were long and slender.

It was painful, knowing he was so terribly pathetic compared to someone like Jongin, as he’d never degraded himself before.

A pinch of salt creates a pinch of fat.

Luhan sighed. It’s okay. Having a little less of portions can’t hurt – at least, for a little while.

He’d be fine. He was sure of it.

With one last exasperated glance into the mirror, he picked up his shirt and tugged it over his head, turning away from his reflection and trudging back to bed.

✏ [ a/n ] ok so half this chapter got deleted so i dont have the original authors note but it probably said something like THANK YOU ALL AND I LOVE YOU!!!!!!! WHICH I DO!!!!!!! KISSES

word count: 1687