There's something wrong with Key.
Something, but I don't know what.

His voice cracks, for the second time in our single hour of vocal training.  I'm thanking god that our trainer isn't here today, or he'd be in for it. Perhaps he didn't warm up enough before we started?

We try again, and he misses the note, again. This time he stops singing. Instead, he turns away, covers his face with his hands, and sobs.

"I'm sorry," I hear him through his tears. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it's okay, Kibum-ah." I try to calm him down, because he's sobbing really hard, and him hyperventilating is just about the last thing I want now.  "It isn't your fault, okay? Everyone makes mistakes."

"You don't-you can't-it is my fault, I cannot-" his words get cut short as he gasps for breath.

"Shhh...calm down, tell me later, okay? Don't cry, everything will be alright."
It has to be alright.
--
My stomach hurts. 
It hurts so badly, and it feels so empty, I'm hungry, so hungry.

People exaggerate a lot, I've realised. They say, "I'm starving", when they are hungry, and "I'm hungry", when they simply feel slightly peckish. I don't know about starvation yet, but I know what hungers is, and it hurts.
It really, really hurts.

All I really want right now is to go and join my members for dinner, but I sang so badly today that I know I don't deserve any food. I lied, told them I wasn't hungry, and hid in my room. But I am. 

I'm not going to join them, though. I have enough self discipline to control my hunger. I don't need the food, really, I don't. I just want it. 

Yet the want for food is making me feel dizzy, nauseous, and the pain, oh god. 
I let out a slight whimper, but turn my head to muffle the sound into my pillow. I don't want to alert the members, let them continue eating, they deserve food and besides, they need it. Unlike me.

But I can't help it, it isn't possible, and, much as I try not to, I find myself whimpering again, softly because the ache is overwhelming, the nausea so bad that I curl up on the mattress and squeeze my eyes shut in the hope that it will go away, but it doesn't.

"Kibum?" 

Look what you've done, you stupid boy.  Jonghyun heard you. 
He heard you because you aren't strong enough to keep quiet. He's going to see you curled up into a fat ball on the bed now. As if he didn't think you were fat enough.

But I'm hungry to the point of dizziness, the nausea clouds my mind, and I can barely register him coming over, sitting on my bed, asking me if everything is alright. Hyung's voice is really gentle, soothing and sweet, and I find tears leaking out of my eyelids because I don't deserve this, I really don't.

Crying twice a day, Kibum? Good job. 
Go on, prove to the world how weak you are.
And still fat, too.

Then I can't take it anymore, the lump in my throat pushing itself up further every second, until I lean over the edge of my bed.
And throw up.

In some part of my mind, I know there isn't anything to throw up and I'm just doing empty retching, vomiting out stomach acid and water. Yet there's this desperate feeling to clean myself, empty myself, make it so that there is nothing left in me to get rid of, and besides, I'm vomiting out my hopes now, my dreams, because I realise that I'm useless, fat, ugly, there's nothing in me worth hoping for so why try?

a/n: Next chapter! And it seems to be the longest so far.