Jongdae and Minseok work on a school project together all weekend, the latter never suspecting Jongdae's intentions. Unfortunately, it's all that's ever on Jongdae's mind.

At first, he didn't want to believe that Minseok has an eating disorder. It was terrifying, and he couldn't imagine seeing his hyung anything but healthy. He finds himself avoiding the internet to research the effects the disorder will have on Minseok. He would rather not know; it saves him heartaches.

But he knows that in some ways, it is obvious Minseok is suffering. From the very first start, he noticed the changes. Jongdae did not “deem his friend's change in appetite as the beginning of a disorder though. He supports healthy eating and daily exercising too, and if Minseok wants to change his lifestyle, he couldn't see a reason to not encourage him.

After his conversation with Mrs. Kim, Jongdae finds himself observing Minseok more closely. Half of him is determined to prove her wrong while the other half wants to make sure that Minseok is not harming himself in any way. He knows Minseok is worried about his weight, but it isn't enough for him to endanger his life. Right?

There are many signs that point towards a mental condition, but he always puts it off, fearing the worst for his best friend. Now is the time that Jongdae prepares himself for the worst. Like Minseok's mother, he will not stand by and do nothing. The deal has started, and he's just wasting time by watching Minseok eat, sleep, and breathe.

The first step he must take is get Minseok to acknowledge his problem. Knowing his best friend, Minseok is probably denying that it is a problem and making up silly excuses for his actions. There will be no more of that once Jongdae is done with him.

There is one tiny setback though. Jongdae couldn't just outright tell Minseok that he has an eating disorder. That will definitely freak out the other and perhaps sever their friendship. Jongdae can deal with his unrequited feelings for his best friend, but his heart can't bear not being friends with the target of his admiration.

“Jongdae, what's up, dude? You're spacing out again.” Yixing stops waving his hand in front of his face. “Did all that studying this weekend fry your brain or something? You're starting to act like me. And I appreciate your undying obsession with me, but it's kind of freaking me out.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes and lightly pushes his friend. Yixing shrugs his shoulders in response, only glad that he's back on Earth.

“But seriously, what's bothering you?” Kyungsoo quietly inquires, chin on his palms. “You're only distracted when it has to do with Minseok. Did you two get into an argument?”

“No, why do you always assume that? You know we could never be mad at each other. We love each other.” Jongdae grins. He rolls onto his back, pressing against the cold bleachers.

“Not in the same way,” comments Jongin, who's stubbornly resting his head on Kyungsoo's lap. Kyungsoo taps the bridge of his nose, casting a disapproving glance at him.

“Spit it out,” Yixing says, settling down next to the center of their focus, attracting their other friends' attentions. “Minseok's in the shower, so you might as well while you have the chance. Are you having love problems again?”

A shoe is thrown in his direction, courtesy of Kyungsoo (the only sensible person out of their group).

“No, it's not that,” Jongdae chuckles. “It's...”

“Are we going to finally going to speak up about this?” Luhan pulls his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on his knee caps. “Because I've been waiting for a long time but was too scared to say anything.”

“Oh,” is all Yixing says. The playful atmosphere is almost completely gone now that they all know what Luhan is referring to. Zitao leans his head on Luhan's shoulder, mirroring his position. Yifan continues to dribble the basketball. They know he's listening, but he always tries to appear tough, emotionless.

“Mrs. Kim talked to a therapist this past weekend, and he said it really is an eating disorder.” There are no reactions yet. Jongdae continues. “She signed him up for this support group thing at a hospital center. He's supposed to be starting next week.” There are gasps and rustles as everyone leans in to hear clearly. Yifan stops bouncing the ball.

“Is he...?” Kyungsoo doesn't finish his question. Even Jongin, who jokes around the most, is silenced.

“No. I managed to convince her to let me try first. She gave me a month. I just don't know where to start. I can't just go up to him and say 'Hey, hyung, you have an eating disorder. I want to help you,' but I also can't waste any more time.”

“Don't exclude us,” Kyungsoo orders. “We'll help, too. Right, guys?”

“Yeah, you're not the only one who's worried, Jongdae. We're all in this with you.” Yixing places his hand on said friend's shoulder, squeezing it gently. Jongdae offers him a weak smile. “Thanks, you guys. Minseok will be happy to hear this.”

“If he knew,” Luhan interjects. “What else did the therapist say? Any advice?”

“Other than group, nope. That's why I'm so troubled.”

“We know Minseok hyung is hardly eating enough,” says Yifan, out of nowhere. They all jump a little, least expecting him to join them. But it's Minseok they're talking about, and everyone cares for their dearest hyung.

“And he's lost a lost of weight recently,” Zitao adds, pulling the tall male next to him. “I don't think he fits his clothes anymore.”

“He used to cut out junk food and eat healthier meals, like salads and whole wheat grains. Now he doesn't eat at all. Not even my food, which he said outbeat all the restaurants in town.” Kyungsoo pouts. “Only when Jongdae hyung forces him to. There was also that one time he...” he trails off, hesitant to continue. Regret washes through him once he sees the group's curious expressions.

“When he what?” Yixing asks, a little too loud. His voice quivers with anger. Jongdae closes his eyes, knowing what Kyungsoo will say next.

“H-he... Jongdae and I once caught Minseok hyung th-throwing up,” he professes, twiddling his thumbs. He avoids their gazes and scrunches his shoulders, afraid of being lectured for not telling any of them. Jongin reaches up and cups his right cheek. “It's okay,” he reassures the older male. “You told us in the end. We're not angry with you.”

“No, but we are angry with someone else.” Yixing stands up to pace up and down the bleachers. “What is he thinking?!” he nearly shouts, throwing his hands up in the air. “Does he know how dangerous that is? How that affects him and us?”

“Do you think he's hurting himself in other ways?” Zitao wonders out loud, fingertips prodding his bottom lip.

“What do you mean? Like self-harm?” Luhan rasps. The thought evokes another round of silence. He didn't want to say it, but it's best to get it all out before Minseok returns. They only had a few minutes left...

Zitao shrugs, then hugs himself tighter. “I don't know. I hope not.”

“He better not!” Yixing barks. The boys stare at him, wide-eyed. Yixing never yells. Sure, he teases them and pretends to raise his voice, but he has never been this angry before.

Jongdae realizes just how much they all care for Minseok. It scares him, how greatly and deeply Minseok's health affected them, and how his future actions will affect them even more. Minseok will not be the only one suffering throughout this.

“So what should we do?”

“I think we should tell him,” Luhan declares. “We know someone's wrong, and we can cleary see it. Maybe Minseok hyung's in denial, you think? That's why he hasn't confided anything to us; he probably doesn't think he has a problem.”

“Or maybe he doesn't think we can help him, and so he keeps it to himself.” Yixing's gaze is fixed on a point, lips tightened in a thin line. His fists clench and unclench at his sides. Each breath he takes racks through his chest and sends shivers up and down his spine. Rage emits from every movement he makes. “I can see him doing all these futile methods to help himself, but it's probably making him worse.”

“It could be he doesn't know how to tell us,” Jongin suggests. “How easy is it to admit you have a problem?”

“I agree with him,” Zitao and Kyungsoo chorus.

“What if you're all wrong?” Yifan says, more to himself than the others. “What if he doesn't have a problem, and you're jumping to false conclusions? Minseok hyung wouldn't appreciate that.”

“Yeah, but he wouldn't appreciate us standing by doing nothing if he really does need help. We stand a bigger chance than support groups. Group is just a bunch of strangers talking about their feelings and therapists telling them how they should feel.” Luhan shakes his head. “It's meaningless.”

“Isn't that what we're doing?” Yifan still doesn't look at them, idly swirling the basketball on the tips of his fingers. “Forcing him to accept something that may not be true, speak about how he feels, and then tell him what to do afterwards? How is that different than a support group? At least support groups have professionals.”

“Are you saying you want him to join one? What, you think we can't help him?”

“No, that's not what I'm saying, Luhan. I just... I think that even though we're all friends and we should know him the best, that we really don't. Think about it: we're all just a bunch of teenagers. What do we know about eating disorders?”

“Yifan ge...” Zitao lightly brushes his forearm, but the former ignores his touch.

“You said this therapist has a degree, right? And he has experience. What about us? We don't know . How can we help him if we don't know what we're doing? Shouldn't we leave this to people who know how to? Minseok could end up getting worse if we play the 'I know what I'm doing' card. And then what? Whose fault is it then? It'll be ing ours. Can you live with that?”

“Minseok might feel more comfortable around people he knows, Yifan ge. He's never really been open around strangers. We don't know a lot, but that's what books and the internet are for. We can learn, and we can try. Aren't you afraid of him going there? He'll be away from us, no contact at all. Won't you miss him?”

“Yeah, but...”

“No 'but's!” Luhan cuts him off. “We're going to do this. Wipe off that frown and turn off that pessimistic switch in your head. It's making us sad.” He claps his hands and stands up. “So, we're officially telling him, right? Good.”

“Who's going to tell him?” Jongin asks. He looks up at Kyungsoo, who widens his eyes and shakes his head.

“Not me.”

“And definitely not me. Yixing?”

“If I get over wanting to rip his throat out.”

“Okay... How about you, Luhan? Since you suggested it?”

“Me?” Luhan gulps. “You see... I can't do these kinds of things. I'll end up crying and nothing will come out of it. Jongdae, you should do it. You're his best friend.”

All eyes land on him.

He sighs, giving in. “What do I tell him?” His question rings in the silence of the gym. An answer doesn't come forth fast enough.

“Hey, how much time do we have left?” Minseok asks, appearing from the boy's changing room. He has a towel around his neck, and his clothes clings to him due to his damp skin.

Jongdae can count the ribs showing through his thin uniform shirt. He swallows the lump in his throat.

“About five minutes. You hungry?” Kyungsoo's voice is steady for the most part, but they can all hear it waver at the end.

“Nah, not really.” Do they ever get tired of asking the same questions and replying the same answers? Minseok hops up the steps to sit down on Jongdae's stomach. “Am I heavy?” he jokes, bouncing lightly.

“No, you're lighter than a feather.” And he means it.

Minseok raises an eyebrow. “Thank you, I guess. Why are you talking like that? It's... weird.”

“Oh, nothing. Just admiring your handsome face.”

“There he goes again,” Yixing mutters, loud enough for all of them to hear. They laugh, momentarily forgetting the conversation.

No, scratch that. They just set it aside or push it to the back of their heads, because none of them can forget. Especially when it's lying right in front of their eyes.

***

“Kim Minseok,” a shrill voice calls. Minseok merely grimaces as a hand is slammed onto his desk. He refuses to look at his classmate, who needs some skin lotion and a new pair of glasses (who wears thick-rimmed glasses nowadays?). His classmate, Han Insu, also needs a haircut for his hackneyed bowl cut hairstyle is as floppy as a mop, and Minseok can practically hear his hair bounce when he walks.

“Yes, Insu-ssi?”

“What did you score on our latest math test?”

“I just took it last period.”

“So? You don't know what your score is? Don't you always finish first?” Something about the way Insu speaks makes Minseok itch to knock out his front teeth. “I took it five minutes ago and I scored 100.”

“Congrats.”

Insu's lip twitches. He shifts his weight onto the other foot, pushes his glasses up, and crosses his arms across his chest. “Is that all?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

“How can you not know what your score is?”

“I could care less what my score is.”

“Oh yeah? Is that why you're ranked ten and I'm number one?”

Okay, so Minseok has yet to mention who this guy really is. Insu's grudge against him never really went away. Ever since Minseok scored a higher score in the math section of the high school entrance exams, he couldn't live with the embarrassment, and he dedicated his life to shoving his high test scores in Minseok's face.

Which really doesn't affect the other in any way because he honestly couldn't care any less. Minseok is a natural math genius; the equations and word problems are like puzzle pieces that he automatically knows how to put together. He can't help it if the tests are easy.

He knows he's not smart, that's why he's not number one. And it's not like he doesn't try on his tests, it's just he does good in things he excels in. Give him a soccerball and he'll score on you ten times, maybe more. Throw him in a taekwondo match, and he might just kick your .

But if you hand him a novel or possibly a map, his mind is blank. Minseok feels this is just how everyone is like. They stand out in their hobbies, but they're normal in everything else. After all, you can't be good at everything, and especially if you're not interested.

Insu just happens to surpass him in studying. Hey, he has no problem with that! But when he acts nonchalant about his rank, Insu takes these kinds of things to heart.

Which really annoys him.

“What? Did I hit the bull's eye?” Insu smirks. “Does that irritate you, knowing that I'm first and you're not?”

“No, not really.” Jongdae glances between the two silently. He goes back to reading his book once he's reassured that Minseok isn't bothered. Well, bothered to the point where he'll start reacting to Insu's pathetic “bullying”.

“Don't lie to yourself, Kim Minseok. I would tell you that if you tried hard enough you could reach my level of intelligence, but then I'd be lying.” Minseok coils his fists. He taps Jongdae's thigh under the desk.

“Doesn't that sound preposterous? Kim Minseok at my level?” he snorts, elbowing a few of his nearby friends. They chuckle along with him, and Minseok's anger grows.

Just shut up. What's the use of bragging and pointing it out every single day? You already know you'll be first all year.

Insu doesn't quite get the message that Minseok isn't in the mood for his stupid ramblings and he continues to pick on him, making a joke of his studying.

“Do cut out snacking,” he advises, biting his lip to prevent himself from snickering. “You're starting to gain weight.”

Now this is the last straw.

Minseok storms out of the classroom without bothering to tell anyone.

“Did I do something wrong?” Insu wonders, shrugging his shoulders.

Jongdae slams his book shut. “Hey,” he says, calling Insu back. His classmate turns his neck slightly, as if the former wasn't good enough to be given his full attention. “This,” Jongdae pulls his elbow back and lets his fist swing forward, catching Insu in square in the jaw, “is for Minseok, my best friend.”

Insu whimpers as he holds his face, shouting at his friends to get a teacher. Jongdae gives them one look, and they stay frozen in their spots.

“What are you doing, you idiots?! I said to get a teacher! This rebellious punk just hit me! This is assault!”

“Oh, shut up, Insu,” Jongdae groans. He grabs his collar and yanks him towards himself, leaving only a few centimeters between their noses. “If you ever talk crap about Minseok again, I'll make sure to break your face instead.”

He lets go and doesn't spare Insu another glance. Where are you, Minseok hyung?

***

“I know it's spring, but it's about seventy five degrees outside, hyung,” Luhan points out, motioning towards the sun beating down on their backs. “Don't you have a t-shirt to change into?”

“No need. It feels good.” Minseok wipes sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and smiles to show he's perfectly fine. His shirt is loose, fanning his warm skin as he runs.

“How aren't you dying in that long sleeve?” Zitao pants, both hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. Despite wearing a sleeveless shirt, he's sweating like a hog. He hates soccer. Sprinting is not his forte. Wushu does not require this much exertion!

Minseok smirks. It's hot, but it's nothing he can't handle. “Tired already, Peach? Want to take a break?” The younger male growls. There's nothing he detests more than being called “Peach”. Doesn't anyone know his name? How hard is it to remember that the “Zi” comes before “Tao”?

“Of course not! Bring it on, old man!”

After an intense round of the Chinese wushu student tripping around the eldest hyung, flailing for the soccer ball, he calls for quits, wheezing and crying dramatically for air. Minseok highfives Jongdae, who's leisurely prancing across the field, claiming that he's “playing soccer” when they all know he's not really. The things people will do to avoid exercise.

Meanwhile, Yifan jogs over to the spazzing Zitao to offer him a piggyback ride. “Your carriage awaits you, my princess.”

“Ugh!” Zitao groans, rolling away from the mushy love-struck teen. It totally contradicts his manly looks! I mean, can't he just come out with it and ask me to be his boyfriend? These corny *mannerisms are petty and useless. Plus, they make me feel uncomfortable. Like, really uncomfortable. “My Princess?” Really? Since when was I a female? And where is Luhan when I need him to give this ridiculous gege a beating? “Please get away from me. I am too out of breath to even process a proper rejection, and if you keep bullying my poor heart in this condition, I cannot guarantee you that I will resist.”

“And this is bad for me why?” Yifan wriggles his eyebrows. It's rare for his Zitao to drop the innocent facade and lash out at him with that adorable, sharp tongue. Where is Luhan so he can make sure he stays there and why does he not have his camera on him?

“Because I have no problem sticking a pole up your after replenishing my energy and a long afternoon nap.”

Ouch. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea... But it's cute how he said “”. I like his . “Very reasonable. I'll get you some water then.”

“Thank you.”

“You always give him such a hard time,” Minseok scolds lightly when he leaves, pulling Zitao off the ground. Poor kid is covered in grass stains and currently fighting the urge to pick the largest wedgie he's ever had. “Just give him a chance, Zitao. Try dinner. If you don't like it, you don't have to go for a second date.”

“Are you kidding me, Minseok hyung?” Yixing hollers, looking at him as if six arms and legs just sprouted from his sides. “I feel uncomfortable for our Zitao. Come on, if Yifan's going to use those outdated pick-up lines, he should find some better ones. Don't you agree?”

“Uh, no!” Zitao cries. No pick-up lines!

“I think the guy needs to grow some balls and just ask my baby out,” Luhan comments, shuffling the ball between his feet. He passes it to Minseok, who chips the ball and starts juggling it on his toes. “Right, baby?”

Zitao furiously nods. He's still busy trying to brush off a green smudge off his shorts when Jongdae steps forward to throw more grass on him. The younger gasps, then pouts, wiping at his clothes in a mini, frantic attempt to save them.

“So you would say 'Yes'?” Yixing asks increduously. “What, you mean you actually like him?” Zitao flushes and raises his fist to fake a punch. He hisses at the airhead gege to “Shut up before someone hears him”. Jongdae snorts and shares a look with Minseok. As if the whole world didn't already know Huang Zitao and Wu Yifan are in love with each other.

“Wait, wait, wait! Let me get this straight. I'm actually right? You do? Oh my—seriously? What in the—am I missing something here? The dude harasses you, Zitao. And you... You like him?”

Zitao throws his head back, clenching his fists at his sides. These geges are so clueless! “Yes, Yixing ge. I like him,” he says slowly.

“Okay, I'm going to ask one more time,” Yixing interrupts to position himself for gesticulation. “You. Like. Wu Yifan? That tall guy who always bothers you with throw-up worthy romantic bull? The same guy who doesn't let any other male within three feet of you unless he's positive they're not trying to get in your pants? We're talking about the same person, right?”

“Yes,” Zitao sighs, exasperated. “Yes! I like him, okay?!”

“You like who?”

Yixing, whose jaw slackened, smacks his palm over his mouth. Luhan's eyes flicker between his baby and the basketball player crushing on him. Minseok and Jongdae clasp their hands together and lean into each other to prevent from collapsing due to their laughter. Their faces are red, similar to fear-stricken Zitao's, who is frozen.

He slowly turns around to face Yifan, who's now looming over him with a dark expression. “Y-Yifan ge... You're b-back! So soon! Is that wa-water? May I have some please?” He chuckles nervously, reaching out with tentative fingers.

“I'll give you three seconds to tell me who this bastard is before I tear down this city searching for him.”

“What if I don't want to tell you?”

“One...”

“Come on, ge! Do you have to do this? Can't I say it somewhere private?”

“Two...”

“Please don't make me say it here...”

“Thr--”

“It's Wu Yifan!” Zitao squeaks.

Yifan scowls and races across the field, arms swinging with the force of his jealousy. “I'm going to find this Wu Yifan bastard and castrate him! No one gets in the way of me and my boyfriend, and no one wins his affection while I'm alive!”

Several meters away, Yixing face-palms. “Idiot.”

“I bet you five bucks he won't find out 'til tomorrow,” Luhan sings.

“I'm not even his boyfriend,” Zitao grumbles.

“Ten that he'll realize it right now,” Minseok grunts, passing the ball to Jongdae. He clumsily receives it with the inside of his foot and sends it back.

“What makes you say that?”

“'Cause he's coming back right now,” Jongdae explains.

The three boys swivel to see Yifan indeed returning, a michevious glint in his eyes paired with a creepy smile. “Oh no,” Luhan breathes. He throws his arms around Zitao protectively. “I don't like that look on him. It's erted.”

“You like him?” Yixing repeats, still unable to grasp the fact. “That? Do you need glasses? I can get you a pair. Look, Zitao! Look at his face! You like that?!”

“Mommy,” Zitao whines, completely ignoring Yixing to tug on Luhan's sleeve. “What do I do? What if he does something weird again?”

“I would totally save you cupcake, but this is your fault, so you solve it yourself.” Luhan untangles and steps away. He skips in the direction of the playground, waving his fingertips at his son. “Have fun~!”

“Wai...”

“Why hello there, Huang Zitao.”

Oh no, he's using my full name. This is so embarrassing...

“I heard you like someone, and that someone happens to be me...”

Okay, this is just absolutely absurd. I cannot take it anymore.

“Yifan ge, you have three seconds to kiss me and officially make me your boyfriend before I change my mind.”

“No need, just give me .143 seconds.” Because 143 stands for "I love you". 

“Shut up, please.” Kiss me already!

“As you wish, my lady.”

“You know wha...”

“I'm just kidding!”

Minseok wrinkles his nose and turns away from the scene before his eyes. He hopes they aren't the kind of couple who each other's faces off in public. Jongdae mimics his reaction. They agree to leave, pulling a speechless Yixing along.

“You guys! Are you seeing what I'm seeing?”

“Regrettably,” Jongdae winces. “Come on, leave them to... yeah... And let's play with Luhan hyung.”

“Yifan is like eating our Zitao!”

“Too much information, Yixing!” Minseok yells, grabbing him by the collar.

“But...!”

“How are you not sick from watching that?” Minseok utters under his breath as he pushes him onto a bench. Jongdae clutches his stomach, lips pursed sourly. “Please stay down breakfast. You would not look pretty on the sidewalk.”

Sniffles resound from the top of the playground and all three boys turn to see Luhan rocking back and forth. “My baby... My innocent baby...” he wails, digging his nails into his legs.

“Uh...”

“Should we comfort him?”

“Who says Zitao is innocent?”

“I give up,” Minseok grabs Jongdae's wrist and starts walking away from the park. “You people exhaust me. Let's go, Jongdae. I need someone to scare off the nightmares I'll have after today's turn of events.”

“Wait, I was kidding!” Yixing calls out. “Don't leave me alone with the bipolar maniac!”

“I dare you to say that again, Zhang Yixing,” comes a deep, sultry voice in Chinese.

Minseok doesn't look back when Yixing's screams are heard in the distance. “I like Kyungsoo. He's the only sane one around here. Where is he?”

Jongdae bites the inside of his cheek. I'm sane too, aren't I? “I think he's helping Jongin study or something. You know how clingy that kid is when it comes to Kyungsoo.”

“Yeah, yeah, cause they've been together since they were in diapers. I've heard it a million times. Will all our friends end up going out with each other?”

“Why? Are you jealous?” Kyungsoo might choose you over Jongin...

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when I have you?” Minseok scoffs. “Come on, I think I can still hear Luhan strangling poor Yixing. Why invite friends over when all they do is flirt with each other?”

“Flirt? You call Luhan strangling Yixing 'flirting'?” Jongdae places his palm on Minseok's forehead, asking if he is running a fever or not. Minseok punches him lightly and sticks his tongue out.

“No, but I seriously want to get through one hour without any romance crap. Now that Zitao and Yifan are official, do you know how much lovey-dovey we'll be seeing? It's going to be more sickening then Yifan's pathetic tactics.” Jongdae chuckles in agreement. “And Luhan needs a boyfriend or something because he sure doesn't need to be pressed charges for murder. Yixing... let's just pray that he'll find someone who will take good care of him.”

Jongdae bursts out laughing, doubling over as he grips his sides. “What?” Minseok asks innocently, shrugging his shoulders. “Am I wrong?”

They manage to get through the front door and up the stairs to Minseok's room without Jongdae dying from lack of oxygen. His face is red though, and he can't speak full sentences without pausing to laugh again.

***

“Who was that?” Minseok mumbles. His eyes are closed, but he's fully awake to sense his surroundings. Jongdae, who is returning from the hallway, jumps on his mattress, heaving a large sigh. They're both tired from the last two hours of video games, wrestling, and about four minutes of homework.

“The others. They went home.”

“Wow, they didn't even come and say it themselves.”

“You locked the door and told me not to open it for them.”

“Still.”

“I wonder why we're even friends with you, hyung.

“Because you laaaaahv meeeeeh,” Minseok grins drowsily, throwing his arm across Jongdae's chest. The latter rolls his eyes, but doesn't take his arm off of him. It's silent for a moment before Jongdae asks if Minseok is hungry.

“Not really.”

“Are you sure? It's like seven and we haven't eaten since noon.”

“I made you a sandwich.”

Jongdae purses his lips. He shifts to lie on his side. Minseok's eyes remain closed. “Yeah, but you didn't eat. Don't think I didn't notice, hyung.”

“You know me, Jongdae. I don't get hungry.”

“Which means you don't eat. That worries me.”

Minseok finally opens his eyes. “Why?” Jongdae expects to see confusion, but is instead faced with irritation.

“Hyung, I'm concerned about you.”

“Why?” he asks again. “You don't need to be.” His tone is brusque, and Jongdae resists the urge to wince. He doesn't like that tone being directed towards him.

“It's not just me, everyone is. You haven't been eating regularly, and we can see that because you lost a lot of weight. It's kind of scary.”

“Scary?” Minseok knits his eyebrows. He sits up and shuffles away from Jongdae. “Isn't it a good thing that I lost weight?”

“No!” Jongdae gasps, horrified. “Why in the world would that be a good thing, hyung? You were perfect before!”

“Perfect?” The elder mocks, and he throws his head back to let out a long, throaty laugh. “Are you ing with me?” The abrupt change in attitude catches the younger male off guard. “You are, right? Because last time I heard, I am nowhere near perfect.” He spits out the last word.

“And didn't I tell you numerous times before that their words don't matter? They still don't, Minseok hyung, and they never will. Why do their opinions matter? They're just old ladies gossiping.”

“The funny thing is, their gossip always seems to be the truth.” Minseok turns until his back is facing him, his expressions hidden. Jongdae feels fear creeping up his spine. Something rustles inside of him: a warning. Stop, Jongdae. You're making him angry.

But he presses on because this is his chance to bring up the situation that's been nagging at him for days.

“Do you really think so? Is that why you're starving yourself?”

Minseok visibly tenses. “What?” He faces him, disbelief apparent on his features. “What the hell are you talking about, Kim Jongdae?”

“Minseok hyung,” Jongdae starts slowly, standing up to walk towards him, “you're eating less. A lot less. It's not hard to notice. It looks likes you shrank or your clothes somehow magically grew one size larger. Look at your face, hyung! I can't even recognize you anymore. You've changed.”

“For the better,” the elder replies through his teeth. “You heard what people said about me. You heard them call me nasty names and make fun of me. And I am fixing that, Jongdae. I don't have a ing problem like you and my mother keep on assuming!

“We're trying to help you!” Jongdae cries. “We want to help you. Look, your mom signed you up to see this therapist about support group, and I stopped her becau...”

“She's sending me to a mental institution?”

“It's not a mental institution.”

“Don't lie to me. I know what that is. If people say I'm fat, then I'll ing show them that I'm not. That's what I'm doing, Jongdae. I'm not doing anything wrong. And it's not only for that, but for myself. I feel good. I feel better about myself. I can look in the mirror and actually see that I'm handsome. You don't think I'm handsome anymore?”

“Why does it matter what you see? It matters more what you think. If you don't believe in yourself, love yourself, and say to yourself that you're better than what they say, then you're not going to be happy. If you have to see yourself disintegrating into a twig to think you're handsome, then you're ing wrong. Being twig skinny doesn't mean you're handsome.”

“I think I'm handsome when I'm skinnier,” Minseok retorts.

“Do you? Is it what you really want, or are you doing this because of you're scared you'll be made fun of again?”

“You don't ing know, Jongdae!” Minseok gets up right into his face and jabs a finger in his chest. “You don't ing know how it feels like. You're skinny, your face isn't ed up, and everyone likes you because you're funny. You don't know how it feels to have people saying about you behind your back or right in front of you. You will never know.

“So don't ing act like you're trying to understand me. Don't ing say like I can get help because I don't need it! And I don't want it, either! It's all a bunch of fake bull. How can you feel the same things I feel? How are a bunch of strangers and some er with a college degree going to stop those people from saying about me? They can't and they won't.”

“Hyung, you have a problem.” Jongdae tries to hold his hand, but Minseok shrugs him off. “This is getting out of hand. I don't want you to hurt yourself over this.”

“I'm not!”

“How do I know?”

“Because I never lie to you, Jongdae. Never. And I'm telling you I don't have a problem nor am I hurting myself; I'm not ing cutting my wrists, if that's what you're really asking,” Minseok yells as he walks out of the room. He makes his way towards the hallway bathroom, immediately slamming the door behind him and locking it.

“Hyung!” Jongdae raps on the door, fear overcoming him. “Hyung, open up the door! I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said anything. I was just worried. We're all worried. I won't say anything more, so please open up! Please?”

Minseok covers his ears and climbs into the bathub, curling himself into a ball. Go away, go away, go away. I don't want you near me. I don't want to hear whatever you have to say. Stop bothering me.

“Hyung! Please! I'm sorry! I'm so, so, so sorry!”

Minseok. He's not sorry about the things he said, he's sorry that you're ed up and he can't do anything. Minseok snaps his neck in the direction of the mirror. He sees himself, half covered by the edge of the tub. The knocking slowly dies down, the muted thumps disappearing altogether.

W-what?

You heard me, the mirror answers sharply. He came here thinking he could help you, but you can't be helped, can you? You're stuck like this, Minseok. Forever. You're stuck in this cycle, and I'm going to make sure you can never leave.

What do you mean?

Hush, and just open the medicine cabinet. You know what to do.

But I don't want to. Jongdae is still here.

He knows you're already insane. Didn't you hear him before? He thinks you have an eating disorder! But you're only making yourself better.

I am.

You are. You're doing good, Minseok, really good. See, not eating isn't such a bad thing, right? And if you continue your nightly visits to me, you're going to look real good in no time.

But Jongdae says I'm starving myself. That's not a good thing.

Don't listen to that brat! He doesn't know , Minseok. He doesn't know the crap you have to go through every day. Why listen to him? Why do you care so much about what he thinks and says?

It's not only him. He said the others are worried, too.

That's what friends are for, pretending to worry about you when they really don't give a damn.

I don't think that's true. My friends are dorks and we argue a lot, but we know that we're not being serious. We're brothers.

Well, brothers don't ing accuse each other of being having mental illnesses, do they?

Do I really look skinny?

You're not the old Minseok anymore.

Is it a bad thing?

What the hell are you asking? Are you kidding me? What have you been doing for the past months, Minseok? We've been working towards this. This is the outcome you wanted, isn't it? Why are you suddenly hesitating? You know I hate it when you second guess yourself. Your first instinct should be how you decide your actions. Not by what those people say. Your mother, your friends, and even Jongdae have never understood you. Only me, Minseok.

Minseok stared at it, terror draining the blood from his face. He needed to get away. He didn't want to stay with the mirror forever.

Why are you looking at me like that? You know you can never escape me.

He began shaking, from his fingertips to his torso. He lunged for the door, but due to his trembling fingers he couldn't turn the lock. Help! Jongdae, help me! Get me out of here!

What do you think you're doing, Minseok?

The petrified teen pressed his head to the door, hoping that Jongdae didn't leave. His heart dropped when he heard a low voice murmuring on the other side of the wood.

“Hyung... we care so much about you...” Jongdae sniffles. He's crying. “I hate seeing you like this. I hate seeing you do this to yourself. I'm so scared. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't our Minseok. We don't care about the way you look Minseok, it doesn't matter to us. We look up to you, and we... We love you. It hurts us when you hurt yourself.

“I don't know how to make you realize it. I don't know how to tell you that those words you said before scared the hell out of me... What's been going through your mind? Why didn't you tell me? Am I not reliable anymore?”

No. You're my best friend, Jongdae.

“Probably not after this. I made you angry and hurt your feelings. It wasn't right of me to tell you what you have and what you don't have, what you feel and what you don't feel. It isn't my place to do so... I'm just sorry, hyung...

“I don't want to give up on you. I don't want you to be lonely or feel like you have to keep this to yourself. You don't. You have me, your mom, and the others. We just want to see you happy and healthy... So please... can you forgive me?”

You can't escape this, Minseok.

Minseok clumsily turns the lock and twists the door knob, wretching the door open. He sees Jongdae sitting against the wall and falls onto his knees, pulling him into a hug, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry" he chants over and over again.

“Help me, Jongdae,” Minseok begs. He buries his face into Jongdae's chest and clutches his shirt as sobs rack through his ribs and comes out in shuddering breaths. “I can't stand it anymore. Everything hurts so ing much and I'm so scared... It won't go away, and it keeps saying I can't escape it... I'm so scared, Jongdae, please don't leave me alone here. I have a problem, okay? I have a problem, and I don't know what to do about it. So you have to help me!”

Jongdae shushes him and holds him close, rocking them and singing softly in his ear to pacify the elder.

“I don't want to do this anymore. I'm chained to it, but I don't want to be. I want it to go away. Make it go away!”

“What is it? What do you want to go away?”

Minseok doesn't answer directly. He just squeezes them closer together. Against Jongdae's shirt, he pleads for him to stay.

And with that, Minseok's first cry for help rings loud and clear.