--
It's the voice in my head that I can't erase.
As constant as the sun, the clouds, my failures.
And it talks, oh, how it talks.
It speaks and chatters at every moment of the day, and at night, too. When I'm  alone, when I'm with others, it doesn't take heed, it has no resting hours. 
At first, it just told me my problems. I was fat, what wasn't right, what I was doing wrong. 
Slowly, as I slipped, further and further, as I realized what the problem was, it spoke more. It tells me what I can't do, it warns me, not to eat because I can't. I don't wish to gain weight, definitely not. 
The scary thing was how often it was right. Always. Disobeying would end up in tears and fat and that voice, speaking, sarcastic, derogatory, always negative because that is what I am. 
So I started to listen. 
It told me to stop, and I stopped. It told me to purge, and I did. It told me to crumple, and I crumpled.
It told me that it was a part of me. And it is.
Somewhere along the way I started to realise that that voice is not an external force. It is a part of me, a single section of my mind, possibly the only part of it that is absolutely clear, the only part of me that understands myself.
And while this is happening, I am spiraling .
Downwards, always downwards.
Before I realise it I've  dug myself into a deep hole and I can't get out, because I've  put myself in it. In some morbid piece of my mind I don't want to get out, because that voice, that mindset, is what I know. It made me realise I was fat, it tells me what to do. It's helping, it is. 
--
The car is moving too fast for my liking, I don't want to get there, I don't.
We're headed for a photo shoot.
I really, really wish we weren't.
Having my picture taken and slapped onto the front page of magazines is bad enough, but today's photo shoot involves five of us, all of us. I can't even bear to think of how much I'll stand out, fat and ugly among the rest of my perfect, good-looking members. 
How disgusting.

The place seems messier than usual, louder than usual. I scowl. Would it be so hard to have a little more order and control in the place?

"Key-hyung, why do you look so mad? Don't be angry..."

Taemin comes over with Jonghyun, both already dressed. 
To my horror, I realise, the clothes for the shoot involve tight shirts, pants, leather jackets. Oh god. I'm going to look huge in those. I want to hide, run somewhere, anywhere, but here.

"Hyung?"

"Nothing, Taemin, I'm just tired."

Jonghyun comes close, uncomfortably close. He touches my arm gently. He's touching my fat, he's wondering how I got to be so huge. He's wondering where my bones are, wondering how thickly buried they were under my layers of flesh.
I flinch, moving away. 

He looks surprised, a little sad even. He's shocked that I've gotten so big.

"Go get changed, yeah? The faster we finish up, the faster we get to go home."
The faster I get to hide myself.

--

Camera. Pose. Smile. Camera flash. Move. Another flash. Disgusting. Flash. Ugly. Flash. Fat. Huge. Gigantic. 
Flash. 
Blurry. Fading. Flash. Flash. Nausea. Dizziness. Flash. Flash. Flash. 
Black.

a/n: next chapter :) thanks for reading