--

"Kibum-ah?"

Stop trying to talk sense into me, it's disgusting. You aren't helping, really.

"Key hyung?" 

Not you, too. 

"I'm not going to force you into anything, but...he's pretty upset. If it's anything he did...you know you can tell us, right?"

I'm pretty sure guilt tripping counts as emotional forcing. 
No, it's nothing he did, it's just my screwed up brain making me think he wants me to purge and I don't know whether he really does, because he did say I was fat in the first place. It's me and my flipping mental mindset that's making me think I'm huge, although everyone says I'm not and it's just my brain, thank you, thank you so much for letting me know that my mind is as messed up as the rest of my body is, and that it's probably just as fat, too. Thank you so freaking much because now I have no idea who to believe, my brain or you, and if I can't believe myself I might as well just die, because I'm going to if I carry on like this, anyway.

Damn it, don't cry.
Stop crying already. Childish. Disgusting. You've been crying practically everyday. People will be starting to ask for you to show your IC, soon, so that they can confirm that you are actually an adult and not some whiny kindergarten kid that sobs at everything. Some annoying child that has yet to lose his puppy fat. 

"Key hyung? Don't cry, hyung, I don't like it when you cry." 

He doesn't like it. 
He doesn't like you.

Of course.

Are you not disgusting, really? A young boy can control his emotions better than you, you can tell he wants to cry, too, but he's not sobbing like you are even though he should be, because the sight of you is enough to freak everyone out and make them want to kill themselves. He's thinner, too. He's the one allowed to have fat because he's the youngest and it's cute, but he's skinnier than you.

Get a hold on yourself. Idiot.

I'm going to tell him.

No, you can't, he doesn't want to know. Don't tell. He doesn't care about your stupid dreams, they're worthless to him.
He'll know that you're just as screwed up asleep as you are awake. He'll know that you're thinking of someone who doesn't even what you, because no one wants you, not even yourself. 

I want myself.
I want to get better. I want Jonghyun hyung.

Are you sure? If you get better you'll just be fat again. Are you sure? 
He doesn't want you, and you know it. If he did he'd be here, right now. Looking at you, wanting to come in. But he's back at the dorm, right? He doesn't want to see you, no one wants to see you.

Onew hyung and Taemin are here. 

Obligation. The media. You know for yourself that the life of an idol is just a lie to entice the public.

I don't care. I'm telling.

Your loss.
He'll be disgusted knowing that you dream of him. They'll try to tell you it was a figment of imagination. You know for yourself that it isn't. It's what Jonghyun thinks. You've penetrated his brain and you know what he thinks. He hates you. 
You should hate him, too.

But you don't, do you? 
--

"He says he had a dream. He dreamt that you hated him, or something. You told him that he's fat and he should purge and laughed at him for not having the discipline to puke out his food. That's why he doesn't want to see you."

He dreamt of me. 
He dreamt of me being evil, being cruel. Telling him that he was huge and disgusting and undisciplined.
He thinks of me as an evil person. 
He hates me.

I can't blame him. I hate myself, too. 
I did all this, all of this.  

In some sick and cruel part of my mind I just can't help hoping that if Key had been fated to have an eating disorder, it hadn't been caused by me. Anyone else, anyone at all. Just not me. A member of the staff, a manager, even another member. Just not me. It's this part of my mind that understands me better than the rest, because it knows that I am weak, and I can't stand this, not this self loathing or this hurt, knowing that each time he throws up, each time he cries and thinks to himself that he is fat and worthless, it's my fault. 

"Hyung...he really hates me now, doesn't he?"I force myself to ask.

In a way, I don't really want to know the answer.  I don't want to see Onew hyung nod and confirm that yes, Kibum hates my guts and would do anything to murder me, because I did this to him, I basically ruined his life just because of a couple of stupid comments that I didn't even mean at all.  

"I don't think he does, actually." He sighs a little, wrinkling his nose in thought. " I think it's more that he's scared of you. He doesn't want to meet you because he thinks that you think he's fat." 

And who planted these thoughts in his head? I did. 

"It's okay, hyung, we will try and talk to him again, alright? Just remember that he's scared right now and he needs time. That's not really Key hyung. Key hyung is...he's trapped in that thing that's telling him he's ugly and fat. I'm sure Key hyung loves you really. We'll speak to him again today." 

"Taemin will give Kibum puppy eyes." Minho added wryly.  

And despite the giggles from Taemin and the soft chuckle from Onew hyung, I feel like crying because those Taemin shouldn't even have to beg for Kibum to meet me in the first place, and those puppy eyes should have been mine to give.
--
It looks like Taemin's puppy eyes worked, because I find myself opening the door a crack, peering into the brightly lit room. I haven't been here for a while. 

I look for Kibum, and I feel shocked to realise that I have to peer hard before I realise that he's so pale, so sallow and thin that he practically blends in with the stark white sheets. If I thought he'd been thin before, that was nothing compared to how tiny he was now. 

His rib bones, wrist bones, collar bones, sticking out so obviously, they're like a patch of light in a tunnel of darkness. The thick blankets seem akin to a bed of swirling snow, covering him and burying him, swallowing him up just like how his disorder swallowed him up, like how my words swallowed him up. 

Taemin is grasping his wrists, one hand up to brush pearled tears off his sallow cheeks. Minho beckons for me to come in, come closer, but I see the unspoken words in his eyes, he's telling me to be careful, be very careful, to tread carefully and take care of Kibum, because he's as fragile as a glass whistle right now, and a single blow could ruin him for good.

I sit gingerly at the edge of the bed. "Hey, Kibum-ah."
I reach out a little, touch his fingers gently. I want to hug him, to grab him and wail and ask him what the heck was going through his brain, to hold him tight and never let go because I'm worried that if I do, if I let him go, I'll never see him again. But I don't, because of Minho's warning to be careful, be gentle. 

"We'll give you a little space, shan't we? Come on, Taeminnie." They leave the room to hover outside and hope for the best, and I am left with Kibum.

We sit in silence, and I stare at the walls. White, so plain and cold. Kibum always liked warm and bright colours, he must be really really uncomfortable here. As he would have said, "it's too cold here. There aren't any feelings."
Feelings had always been important to Kibum.

"I...I need to..." Surprisingly, he's the one who initiates the conversation, grasping at my fingers gently and trying to sit up.

"Don't move, Kibummie, just rest, all right, I can speak to you just fine like this."

"I...hyung, I want to tell you..." His speech is coming out fragmented and unsure, but I don't care. He's talking to me. 
"I'm sorry, hyung. I...I'm sorry for making you sad and stuff and for not seeing you. Jinki hyung says you thought you hated me...but I think you don't understand..." He falters in his speech, trailing off.

"Then make me understand, Kibummie. Tell me, tell me everything."

"I wanted to be skinny, hyung. I...you said I was fat, right? So I wanted to lose weight. I tried but it didn't work. Nothing worked. So I wanted to take everything inside out, then I threw up...but I was still huge, right? It wasn't going fast enough." He's crying now, tears trickling down his cheeks, arching over his sharp cheekbones and defined jawline. "Then I got scared, and frustrated, because there was this voice, and it was talking to me, and it's talking to me right now and telling me that I'm huge and worthless and everyone hates me, you especially, and it wouldn't stop and I can't get rid of it because it's part of me, and I think it's right. I'm ugly, right? And everyone hates me, right? Because I cause so much trouble and I can't do anything correctly." 

I'm past the stage of thinking, "how can he think that way about himself?" Because I realise that even though I don't know how, he thinks that way. He thinks that way now. But talking to me...that's a step, isn't it? 

"No one hates you...no one does, Kibummie." And I can't talk fast enough, can't tell him fast enough how much everyone misses him and wants him back. "At home, at the dorms, everyone is waiting for you, right? All of us, and everyone else. We all love you, Kibum-ah. You're beautiful and wonderful and you were freaking perfect the way you are, so you have to get better, alright? You have to get well again and be Kibum because everyone misses you so, so much. Everyone loves you, everyone. Don't ever think that way again." 

Then I'm pressing my lips to his forehead, caressing the soft locks, teardrops landing on his pale, sallow skin, because I've only just realised how close I came to losing him, letting him be buried in his eating disorder and his ugly thoughts. And I can't do this again.

"I...hyung, I love you too."

A/n: looks like we're done with this...thank you for being such amazing readers. Really. All of you are the most encouraging and wonderful people, even silent readers because views mean a lot to me, too! I'll be starting something new soon so do look out for it :)