Work Text:
1, 2, 3 , 4 ...
he was panting, his body felt sore already.
“20 more”, he thought.
8, 9 , 10 , 11 ...
he wanted to cry. his arms hurt so much, his legs were already shaking and he could’ve sworn he had just seen black spots.
“20 more”, he told himself.
13, 14 , 15 , 16 ...
his legs gave up, wooyoung fell down on the ground.
god, he was so stupid! he knew the others had been planning to go out and eat after their first win with inception, he knew it!
why did he agree?
why did he indulge on all this food, as if it was his last day on earth?
wooyoung had been so strong for so long already, he had successfully lost all the weight he had wanted to lose, so why was he still not satisfied?
he knew he wasn’t fat anymore. he knew it because his pant size had dropped two sizes, he knew because his waist was closer to being seonghwa’s size, he knew because his collarbones were as easily seen san’s.
but it seemed like he was still fat enough to feel like rice was heaven on earth, to inhale chicken like it’s air, to avoid vegetable like it’s the pest.
so now he was in his room, the others were playing games in the living room, and he did one burpee after another. or at least, he had been doing that until his stupid legs decided to stop moving to his will.
“i just need to eat less again, stick to my rules”, he told himself as he slowly got up, holding onto the wall for support. the mistakes had been done already, it would be a waste of time to continue feeling regret. he just needed to work harder again, he couldn’t risk gaining weight. not again. he couldn’t risk looking like he used to.
before wooyoung had decided to go on a diet, he didn’t like searching his name on twitter. it wasn’t like he hated himself, he just knew he wasn’t as handsome as yeosang. or as tall as yunho, or as strong as jongho.
he wasn’t as good of a dancer as mingi was, he sucked at composing, unlike hongjoong, who was a genius when it came to music.
he didn’t have the deep yet soft voice like seonghwa had.
wooyoung‘s stage presence also wasn’t the best of the best.
when it came to fancams, san’s would always have more views than his. of course, he was a born idol. from being absolutely horrible in dancing to being called the new standard, san was the embodiment of hard work and passion.
what did wooyoung have that made him so special?
he couldn’t think of anything. he was the loud, annoying other part of san.
it was like he wasn’t his own person, rather he was just the shadow of his best friend.
one night, when wooyoung decided to weigh himself at 3:29 AM, he started crying.
67.9 kg at 173cm. age: 21 , male. a bmi of 22.7
that was healthy, so why was wooyoung looking so obese?
staring at his reflection in the mirror, he started to randomly pinch at his skin. on his stomach, his arms, his neck and cheeks.
he wouldn’t come close to his thighs, too afraid of feeling the fat. his thighs were the worst. he could always hide a fat tummy or arms, but his thighs would always show what he tried to hide so badly.
he needed to lose weight, as much as possible and as fast as possible.
one week later, wooyoung weighed himself again.
66.5kg.
he had only lost 1.4kg in a week.
what did he do wrong? he ate twice a day and made sure to never snack. he refused to eat as much rice as he used to, he worked out enough.
why wasn’t he losing any weight?
“i should maybe eat a bit less, not too much. just enough to survive.”, he mumbled as he slowly put on his pyjama again. seonghwa had called them for breakfast, but wooyoung decided he shouldn’t have it today. saying ‘diet starts tomorrow’ only was a waste of time and he knew damn well if he didn’t start now, he would probably never.
on the second week, wooyoung went from eating 1500 calories to only 1000 calories.
he went from only exercising when the others did to staying in the practice room two more hours.
on the third week, wooyoung decided to limit his carb intake and forced himself to eat more vegetables. he also decided that one meal a day was perfectly enough as he didn’t need so much food anyways.
seven weeks later, wooyoung had already lost 8.5kg.
he had avoided carbs like rice and noodles and potatoes and didn’t allow himself to even have a second salad after the first one didn’t fill him up at all.
on the eight week, wooyoung weighed 59.4kg.
a bmi of 19.8
he was still healthy.
he was still healthy, he was smaller, so why did he still feel fat? why did he still see himself like he did weeks ago, like the 68kg heavy young man?
his friends were supportive, though san and yeosang were always trying to make him eat a little bit more.
“one bite won’t hurt!”
“you look like a skeleton, woo.”
“you’re practising so much, you deserve a treat.”
“are you sure? seonghwa makes the best tteokbeokki!”
one bite would hurt, wooyoung would think.
how can i be a skeleton if there’s still so much... fat?
i’m not a dog, i never deserve treats.
when seonghwa told the others one night that the company decided to put him on a diet as well, most of the “please eat!” moments stopped. after all, he was grown.
on some nights, he would sit together with seonghwa at the dining table, staring at the fridge.
“do you think we can eat delicious things one day?”
“maybe. if it fits the limit.”
“yeah, the limit.”
some nights, both boys would be practising all night. they would repeat the choreos again and again, they would sweat oceans and wooyoung felt like he was about to die in his sweater. he had read that sweating more would help with weight loss, so he refused to wear t-shirt’s and rather exercised in hoodies.
“should we take a break?”
“not sure, do you think we reached our goal yet?”
“our goal?”
“yeah... how many calories do we wanna burn tonight?”
“there’s no goal, wooyoung. there’s never been one.”
“then let’s exercise more.”
sometimes, wooyoung would have to pull seonghwa away from the kitchen. seonghwa would whine in protest, he would beg for just one more meal, he would tell him that he didn’t need to starve in order to lose weight.
but no, wooyoung couldn’t let him. he couldn’t stand the thought of seeing him eat when he himself had been refusing meals for the past two days.
“just do more crunches, you wanted abs, right?”
“i never wanted abs, the company wanted it.”
“just 60 more, hyung.”
sometimes, when seonghwa wasn’t there,
wooyoung would eat. and eat. and eat.
and he would think “seonghwa never did this.”
so he would get up, licking over his dried lips and decide that a little throwing up wouldn’t hurt. just a little bit. just, just to be in control again.
because while wooyoung wasn’t in control, he was sure everyone else was.
seeing seonghwa being so strong, even while the others were eating his favourite foods and he just had his dry looking chicken breast, made wooyoung feel competitive. seonghwa had always been skinnier than him, but wooyoung was smart. he knew more, he had been dieting for longer.
he knew that if he just skipped his one meal a few times a week, he would quickly be skinnier than seonghwa.
and then, three months later, he weighed 52.9kg.
a bmi of 17.7, wooyoung was now underweight.
he was skinnier than seonghwa , skinnier than san and skinnier than mingi.
wooyoung was skinny and pretty.
wooyoung finally was someone.