Chapter Text
Gotham city, January (end-month)
Dick's introduction to anorexia.
"Look delicate and svelte," that idea had been tormenting Dick after observing the fascination on Bruce's face when he went out with all those "perfect body" models. He knew well that his mentor's interest was merely superficial, but still, he couldn’t help but feel irritated at the thought.
Superficial or not, those Asian skeletons liked Bruce and Dick wanted Bruce to notice him. Although the damn mirror in his room told him that he wouldn’t make it.
Richard Grayson had become a beautiful 15 year old teenager. His body had matured faster than the body of many boys his age —thanks to his rigid training as Robin, where he had acquired a certain amount of muscle mass that fit perfectly in his body— and although people envied his figure, it wasn’t what he wanted.
With everything and muscles, Dick was a slim person, but all those models were skinnier because they didn’t have fat or muscle (the teenager had noted).
The young boy thought about going on a diet several times, he even told his best friend, Barbara —who looked at him as if he had lost his mind—. Dick still remembers the conversation perfectly.
"Rob, are you kidding me?" she had asked.
"I'm being serious," replied the guy with annoyance.
"Don’t be silly. If you lose weight you'll surely disappear. You better knock that idea the Barbie Chantel probably gave you,” the redhead reprimanded him.
Dick has never understood Barbara's adversity towards Chanel. The girl was the only person —from that stupid school of wealthy pretenders— who had genuinely wanted to be his friend and who didn't care about his circus background.
***
Dick sighed a little and finally decided to go eat with his blonde friend, whose figure he envied. "Hey Blondie," he greeted, not very cheerful.
Chanel, the young model, looked at her friend surprised. Dick Grayson was the happiest being in the world, and seeing him sad was almost a sacrilege. "Did something happen, flying boy?"
"Not really," he said chewing —reluctantly— one of the pancakes Alfred had sent him for lunch.
"Don't sell me that Dick because I'm not going to buy it," Chanel said squeezing the young man's shoulder, tightly. "So put that pancake down and spill the beans because as much as I want to know what's going on in your mind without asking you, I can't. I'm a witch, but not that kind of witch,” the girl said, and then she looked at the little small laugh her friend let out, feeling satisfied with herself.
Dick looked at the girl undecided, What would Chanel think? Would she help him or act the same way as Barbara? Maybe, just maybe, if Dick was right, Chantel was the person who could solve his problems.
Despite her tender age, Chanel had become one of Gotham's most famous models and she owed it all to her doll body. When he looked at her, he saw in her all those beautiful women that attracted Bruce. Surely she know the secret.
"Hey, Chanel... What do you do to be so skinny?” Dick finally questioned trying not to seem desperate. Also, he crossed his fingers hoping the girl would help him.
"Why do you want to know that, sweetheart?" the young girl asked a little confused, would Dick want to lose weight? But he already had a georgous body. If he lost weight, he would also lose his attributes —his glorious butt—.
"I know it sounds silly but... I'd like to lose weight," Dick muttered a little embarrassed.
“Honey, I'm sure there’s more fat in a natural yogurt than in your body. Plus, you don't have thaaat much muscle,” the model observed.
"I've heard that a lot of times," the boy complained frustrated. If someone, whoever it is, tells him that again, he would hang it.
"Is that so," the model agreed softly. "And... What are you really looking for: weigh less or decrease your mass?"
When Dick heard Chanel he can't help but open his mouth in some surprise because that meant she was going to help him. "Mass," he replied without hesitation.
"Before I tell you my secret, you must swear not to tell anyone" Chanel said a little serious. The girl knew that what she was doing wasn’t right, but she didn’t want anyone's help. She live happily like this and — her lifestyle — do not harm to others.
"I promise!" said the acrobat with conviction, making the circus oath with his hands.
"Okay," the girl began, saying to herself that —Dick was too smart to listen to her terrible advice—. "My secret is that I basically don't eat."
Dick frowned, hoping for more. The boy thought that Chanel was going to reveal some teas that made him lose weight and some Asian technique that was related to needles. "So you don't eat?" he questioned a little incredulously. "But Bruce has told me that not eating is bad for our health and that it also makes us gain weight and—"
"Not so if you do it my way," Chanel interrupted. "It’s a gradual process... You have to get your body used to it by decreasing the food portions until it doesn't need it."
"It sounds logical, but where do you get the nutrients to survive?" Dick questioned again.
"I consume vitamins and food supplements when my activities are too consuming," she explained pulling out of her backpack a bottle of a brand that Dick recognized, one of the many brands that 'Wayne Enterprises' sponsored. “For example, today we have the 'Physical Education’ class —plus I have to practice with the cheerleaders— so I need it.”
"I see," said the young acrobat thoughtfully. "Anything else you recommend me?"
"Don't forget to drink at least 2.6 quarts of water... It’s very important that you stay hydrated," she started, listing with her fingers. "You should also do 2 hours a day of cardio, if it's 3, better" she said counting another finger. "And you can afford to drink unsweetened teas and occasionally eat some fruit, I recommend you tangerines or raspberries."
"Thanks, Chanel," said Dick with a sincere smile. The blonde's words were just what he needed.
"I won't say 'you’re welcome' because those tips are so bad, I told you about them because I can't deal with your sad puppy face" the blonde sighed taking her friend's hands and looking at him seriously. "Dick ... I want you to think better of it. You’re a healthy handsome boy with an amazing physique and if that weren’t enough, with the best heart in the world. You don't need these superficial things—"
"Neither do you," replied Dick, clicking his tongue.
"I have no choice... Look Dick, we are not talking about me, we are talking about you." She said grabbing the acrobate by the face to look at him. "I’m not scolding you, I don’t want to decide for you... Just tell me that you'll think about it —before doing anything—." Chanel asked genuinely. The remorse was already eating into her skin. The girl is usually a nightmare with people, but she wasn’t that with Dick. Dick is the best person (also the only) she has ever met in Gotham and with all her heart, she hopes there won’t be nothing that breaks that bright and pure boy.
"Okay," the guy nodded, removing the girl's hands from her face and squeezing them gently.
Chanel, still restless, continued to convince Dick not to follow in his footsteps, but he only pretended to listen to her with one of the many false smiles that only Alfred and Bruce knew weren’t true.
Dick had already made his decision, he would do his best to win Bruce’s heart, even if that made him a delicate, fragile, little and skinny doll.