Death didn’t scare him. Maybe that was why he was on his fourth day of not eating, or maybe it was the fact that the reflection in the mirror wasn’t changing. Perhaps it was the fact that nobody gave a crap about his changed eating habits. No one would question his poor excuses or mention that he hasn’t eaten dinner with them in what felt like years.

Don’t be silly. You thought they cared? Think again, they are probably jumping with joy at the fact you’re finally losing weight. About time, fatty.

Sighing, he traced his now protruding hip bone, a habit that has formed. His delicate fingers danced along the sharp surface as his other hand worked hard on stirring the pasta sauce. A thought crossed his mind; should he join them tonight? He was so close to fainting most days, succumbing only once to the darkness while alone at home.

You’re right. You can’t let them get suspicious now can you? Eat half of your pasta. Don’t worry, we all know what you’ll do after putting such disgusting fat into your body.

Right. Yet another habit had formed. He shivered as he remembered the first night he had purged.

“Kim Kibum! Get out here now! Dinner is meant to be shared.” Their leader being the only one who had cared enough to speak out.

“Hyung I feel sick!” Kibum yelled back, selling his act with a slight cough afterwards.

“Bummie you’ve been sick every day. Get in your seat right now. Please.” He argued, his soft plead plucking Kibum’s heart strings.

Regretting his decision, he sat down at the table, staring at the food before him. It looked good. Any food made by Kibum looked good. One taste won’t hurt, right?

Of course it hurt. The guilt that coursed through is veins was no joke as he felt the fat already forming.

He needed to do something.

So he did.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Foods ready!” He shouted, sounding timid as he placed his delicious pasta onto the table.

Everyone flooded in at the sound of only two words.

“Looks good!” Jonghyun gleefully smiled as he dug into his steaming food.

Kibum slightly smiled, his stomach secretly protesting any sort of food. This wouldn’t be easy.

As everyone finished their plates and gobbled down seconds, Kibum had only eaten a few bites, shoving the sloppy sauce around his plate.

“You okay?” Jonghyun pondered, seeming genuinely concerned, but Kibum knew that wasn’t the case.

“Hm? Yeah.” He quickly replied, whishing that this conversation would end as fast as it had begun.

“You should eat some more. It’s really good.” He smiled brightly, something that could only make Kibum giddy inside.

“Mhm.” He replied, pulling a big mouth full towards his awaiting lips, not thinking about the calorie contents, only Jonghyun’s request.

He knew he had eaten too much of the creamy pasta, feeling his gut full of the starch and cream. Kibum could already feel the bile rising in his throat, his stomach doing the only thing it knew to do; reject the food. He hopped up from his chair, excusing himself before darting to the bathroom, receiving a few worried looks. The truth was that they knew. They knew about Kibum’s late night trips to the fridge, peering inside the coldness for an hour before deciding against eating. They knew the events that happened in the bathroom. They knew his bones where becoming more visible. They knew. But what they didn’t know was the harm, the damage. How there was no way Kibum could consume something without his stomach tossing it right back out, how death was only around the corner. And yet they let it continue, too afraid to draw attention to the topic. They didn’t know how to address it. So as of now, all they did was share knowing glances as worry appeared in their eyes, keeping silent as their friend and bandmate destroyed himself. Kim Kibum will never be the same. He’d never be okay.