Chanyeol reads the newly printed paper lying on his table in front of him.

Name: Kim Jongin
Gender: Male
Age: Nineteen
Issue: Anorexia Nervosa

A picture of a young man, blonde bleached hair swept back neatly and sharp eyes fixed on the camera is clipped beside the printed letters. Chanyeol thought of him handsome but he doesn’t look happy, even with that small curve on his lips . Well Chanyeol doesn’t really expect people coming in to a psychiatric rehabilitation to be happy, but most of them looked happy- because no one is ever normal in here. Even himself.

Graduating in one of the top university in the country was an advantage for him to get a job easily, but majoring in Psychology wasn’t really what he wanted back then. He loves photography, and now even owns a DSLR camera of his own, but his parents thought that it would be unproductive to take such major. At least Chanyeol didn’t have to see scalpels and blood in Psychology. Perks of having doctor parents, he supposed. He never really got many choices in his career- in the end he ended up not far from his parents’ job purpose: fixing people. A rehab counselor.

Chanyeol doesn’t exactly hate his job, he loves meeting people and the job involves more social interactions. Just not the crazy ones- and that is exactly what he has to face every day. Well not every day, some days he just had met almost crazy ones, or just depressed ones- and most of them are aged after thirty.

So when he saw in printed letters nineteen, he was a bit taken aback. Nineteen with Anorexia Nervosa and male too? He have had some patients suffering from anorexia and all were females- the youngest female he got was twenty of age. Though it is true that many people with anorexia started young, he rarely seen a male with it.

“Is this a typo?” He looks up to his partner, fixing his glasses while pointing to the biodata on the paper. Yifan, the health counselor, gives a small, held back chuckle. “I thought it was, but Jongdae don’t do typos.” Chanyeol stands up; eyes fixed again on the white paper as he takes the clip off the paper to get hold of the teen’s picture, inspecting it with squinted eyes. Yifan sips his cup of hot green tea- for detoxification, he said once- and mumbles idly, “Kids these days, they crave for attention and did way too much.” Chanyeol shakes his head lightly, half agreeing and half doubting. Somehow Kim Jongin’s crooked smile tells a whole  lot of different story.