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“So, how have you been?”
His therapist smiles at him, Taeyong doesn’t smile back. He doesn’t want to be here, he hates it. The therapist doesn’t know what he’s talking about, he makes it seem like Taeyong is sick. And while Taeyong didn’t know everything, he certainly knows that he is not sick.
He just attends his therapy sessions every Tuesday and Friday because his lover begged him to.
Taeyong doesn’t know why, he doesn’t understand.
“I guess today is going to be a silent session again, huh?”, the smile faltered. His therapist sighs, looks down to the notebook in his hands and writes something down. Taeyong wonders why he isn’t allowed to know what he’s writing, after all, isn’t it about himself? Why shouldn’t he be allowed to know what’s going on?
Taeyong doesn’t ask.
Instead, he looks away. There’s a window, framed by light purple curtains. Taeyong thinks they’re pretty, he wonders where they’re from. Taeyong stares, watches how other people are living their lives without having to sit in front of an old man who thinks he knows everything about everyone, without being stuck in a stuffed room full of books, pictures small children seemed to have drawn and empty mugs.
Taeyong dreads the moment he’s back in his lover’s arms.
***
”How was it?”, his lover asks without looking up from his phone. Taeyong’s gaze lands on the shattered picture frames, they were from earlier. His lover hasn’t bothered to clean, but it is okay. Taeyong is there, he loves cleaning.
Crouching down, he begins to pick up each piece of glass, careful to not injure himself. “It was good”, he says after some time and smiles. His lover nods, gets up and leaves the apartment. It‘s quiet, but it always is. Taeyong only hears his own breathing and wonders if it‘s normal to have his heart beating this slow. He stares at the pieces of glass in his palm and notices the soft hairs on his arm. It‘s like fur, he thinks. Soft, white, he feels like a newborn.
Taeyong thinks it‘s a good sign, it means it‘s working.
***
It took him time, but after a few hours Taeyong finally finishes cleaning. He hadn’t expected the mess to be this bad, but the hour long cleaning kept him occupied. He doesn’t mind. Taeyong’s stomach starts to growl and he slowly pulls up his sweater. “Hungry?”, he mumbles as he sucks in his stomach, watching how his hip bones start to stick out. His stomach still isn’t concave, he notices. He doubts that it’s okay to eat, considering that. Maybe his lover will bring him something to eat? He always cares for Taeyong. He makes sure he keeps his weight in check, lives in a clean apartment, drinks his water and takes his meds.
Talking about meds, Taeyong looks up. It is now 7:32 PM. Taeyong slowly gets up, feeling his legs shake slightly. He moves to the kitchen, light and slow, to not make too many noises. His bunny slippers gently rub over the clean floor, he looks down. They’re pink, though they’re clearly not the newest anymore. Maybe his lover would buy new ones for him, if he asked kindly.
He takes out the bottles of pills, four to be exact. They’re all different colours, Taeyong likes it a lot. On days where he doesn’t eat, on those days it seems like those little colourful pills are just enough.
One red pill, anti depression.
One white pill, appetite suppressant.
One yellow pill, vitamins.
And the last one is blue, Taeyong doesn’t know what it does. His lover had made sure that the bottle’s label is covered well and he trusts him. So he doesn’t question it.
He doesn’t take it, though. It’s for mornings and it always leaves him focused and hyper, it would be dumb of him to take it now, he would sleep soon.
Taeyong takes his white and red pill with a few sips of water. Sometimes he craves other drinks. He faintly remembers the taste of hot chocolate, or the taste of lattes. Taeyong doesn’t remember when he had one the last time, but he doesn’t care. He’s on a diet anyways.
He sighs and closes his eyes. Ignoring his stomach gets hard sometimes, he still doesn’t know what to do when it gets this bad. Taeyong wants to eat, when was his lover coming back? He doesn’t feel good, his pills don’t make him feel good.
Taeyong lets out a quiet whimper, licks his lips and opens his eyes again. Should he clean? Watch a movie? Try to sleep?
Taeyong decides for the last option. Sleep is always good, and most of the time he wakes up to his lover kissing his cheeks. Taeyong smiles thinking of him. He loves him, he loves him dearly.
Slowly walking to the shared bedroom, he crawls into the bed. The mattress is cold, Taeyong shivers for a short moment. He wishes to fall asleep soon, but he knows it won’t happen. It always takes him a while, so he grabs his phone. He also knows that staring at the bright screen will make it even harder to fall asleep, but he doesn’t care. He clicks on his contacts and stares. He only has two, his lover and his mum. Should he call his mum? She doesn’t like him, he remembers.
It’s only 7:39 PM, he sees. It’s alright, it’s alright to call him. He knows his shifts, he knows his breaks, he knows when he’s not angry.
Pressing his contact softly, Taeyong puts his phone on speaker and puts it next to him. Then he smiles as he waits for the other to pick up. It takes some time, but he does.
His lover always does.
”Taeyong?”, he hears his voice and he feels calm again. Suddenly it’s easy, ignoring the pain. He remembers for who he’s doing all of this.
“Hey”, he whispers, “am I bothering you?”
He hears some rustling of paper, then a small sigh. “No, you aren’t. I’ve got some time on my hands, I’m almost done anyways. What’s up?”
Taeyong cuddles more into the blanket, he grabs his stuffed pink bunny and holds it close to his chest. It smells like him.
”My stomach hurts, a lot. I’ve taken my meds already, but I think they’re making it worse.”, he mumbles. He feels embarrassed, who calls because he’s in pain? Taeyong feels pathetic.
He hears a soft ‘ah’ from the other side of the phone, then another sigh. Suddenly Taeyong feels tears in his eyes, he regrets it. He regrets calling, he should’ve just gone to bed without it.
”I expected that. You haven’t eaten since..”, a quiet cough, ”75 hours.” His lover writes something down, or at least that’s what Taeyong thinks. He hears the soft scratches of a pen against paper, he wonders what he’s writing. He wonders why he isn’t allowed to know. He’s writing about him, why isn’t he allowed to know more about himself? “Do you think you can still hold it in? I’ll be home in an hour, can you make it until then?”
Taeyong wants to cry. Another hour? He can make it, but does he want to?
”You know, if you hadn’t messed up all the times before, I would’ve trusted you to handle this alone. Did you take the white pill?”
Taeyong shakes his head, says no and hears him humming. “Go take it, then.”
Taeyong doesn’t want to. He still gets up, leaves his now warm bed and walks to the kitchen. “But why? You always say to not have it in the evening.”, he says softly and grabs the bottle. “I know, but you aren’t supposed to sleep this early. Do you want me to stay all by myself?”
Taeyong sighs, opens the bottle and takes one. “I don’t want that, no”, he says and swallows the pill. “Can you pretend again?”, he starts begging. Taeyong always begs, begs for more and more. Suddenly his lover’s voice tone changes. From uninterested and cold and demanding, to soft, calm and kind. “Babe, did you do what I said?” Taeyong smiles and giggles softly, he tells him yes.
”Good boy. Now, just relax in the living room, yeah? I’ll be home quick with something to eat, then we’ll do something fun.”
Taeyong does what he’s told to, he grabs a pillow and holds it close to himself. “Can we cuddle afterwards?”, he asks shyly, playing with the hem of the pillow. “Yes we can”, his lover says, “we’ll cuddle the whole night. And if you’re doing well, you will even get a kiss.”
Taeyong giggles again, he feels his cheeks warm up. “Alright”, he mumbles, he knows he’ll have to hang up now. “I love you, Doyoung.”
The phone call ends, Doyoung doesn’t say it back.
***
After 30 minutes pass, Taeyong is laying on the floor. It is cold, and it helps. His head feels warm, his whole body feels warm. His heart is beating too fast and Taeyong doesn’t know what to do. He feels dizzy, his head feels foggy and Taeyong lets out a small sob. What’s going on? He doesn’t know.
The cold floor is a nice contrast to his heated body, he thinks. It feels good, even though his breaths are short.
Taeyong hears the door open, he hears keys being thrown carelessly away, he hears shoes getting taken off and a jacket getting pulled off. He hears steps, he knows he’s walking to the living room. “Oh, baby..”, he hears him. Taeyong looks up to see his lover and he smiles. “Welcome home”, he whispers and smacks his dry lips. His mouth feels weird, as if he hasn’t drunken anything in ages, even though his last cup of water was only some minutes ago. Doyoung walks around the couch and sits down, he doesn’t help him sit up. Taeyong is fine with that, he doesn’t need help.
“I brought you food”, he says and takes out a white small box. Taeyong wonders what kind of food it contains, and why was it so small? Taeyong craves more, he needs more. He waits until Doyoung opens it and tries to hide his disappointment. Two chicken nuggets, and salad. Dry, simple salad.
His lover notices, though, because he scoffs and hits the back of his head. It isn’t a gently hit, but Taeyong knows worse. Still, it leaves a faint headache, Taeyong feels like crying.
“Do you really think you deserve more?”, Doyoung mumbles and turns on the tv, he leans back and skips through the endless different channels until he lands on something he finds interesting. “I can’t let you eat anything else, you’re going to gain back everything. Do you want that?” Doyoung leans a bit forward, looks down to him and raises one eyebrow. “Do you want to be fat again?”
Taeyong doesn’t. He remembers him promising that he’ll love him skinny, so no- Taeyong doesn’t want to be fat. He needs to lose a bit more, just until his stomach is concave like on all of the pictures in Doyoung’s gallery. All of the pictures from random, young and handsome men.
They were all loved by Doyoung, and Taeyong wants to be loved, too. So he shakes his head and smiles, and Doyoung smiles back. He gently pats his hair, just a little bit, and whispers a soft ‘good boy’.
Taeyong likes it like this, he likes getting praised. Getting praised for the bare minimum, he loves it.
Taeyong starts eating as he watches the random show his lover put on. Each bite, chew it 30 times. Swallow and count to ten, then take another bite.
It takes him a lot of time to finish his meal, though he wonders if he can even call it one. He doesn’t know what they’re watching, but he doesn’t like it. It‘s about fat people, no, even worse. They’re obese, he decides. It makes eating harder, a lot harder. With every bite he takes, he stares at the screen and he wonders, does his lover think he looks just like that as well? Taeyong looks up to see his disgusted face. His lover mutters insults every time one of the people talk about eating, he mutters words that Taeyong doesn’t want to ever be directed at him.
Before he met Doyoung, Taeyong was fat too. His cheeks were a lot fuller, his arms a lot stronger and on good days he even had abs. He had met him on the internet, a site where people discussed diets and tips to lose weight. Taeyong hadn’t wanted to lose weight at that time, but after seeing one of Doyoung‘s body posts, he decided he fell in love.
Taeyong and Doyoung had talked for a short time, only a week, when Taeyong confessed. His lover didn‘t want it, though, he didn‘t want his love. And Taeyong didn‘t want to lose him, so he promised to lose weight instead.
His lover didn‘t want him to have abs. Muscles were a waste of time, he had told him, they take up more space and make you appear slimmer, even if you weigh more. There isn’t any need to look slimmer when you’re just as heavy, the results must be as accurate as possible.
“Are you done?“, his lover asks and looks down to him. Taeyong stares at the box and only then notices the faint grey powder on the bottom. Curiosity kills the cat, he remembers, so he doesn‘t ask. He doesn’t ask why he’s slowly feeling so floaty, why everything is becoming a little more blurry. “Finished.“, he says proudly and licks the remains of the powder from his lips. He looks up to Doyoung, but he can barely recognize him. Whatever it is, Taeyong feels like he’s flying.
He feels his lover pick him up, he doesn’t make a noise. He thinks it’s good like that, it means the starving is working. “150 calories“, he hears as he gets placed on the bed. It has turned cold again, Taeyong shivers. And yet, he feels like he’s breaking out in sweat. “Better get rid of it quickly“.
Taeyong doesn‘t really know what’s happening, but he knows it must be good. He stares up to the ceiling, it moves a little every time his lover‘s body rubs against his own. He smiles, he feels full. Full and happy, Taeyong feels loved. He hears faint noises, it sounds like Doyoung is working out, but Taeyong knows he isn’t. He doesn’t know what he’s doing or why he’s suddenly feeling sharp pain in his lower area, but he knows Doyoung isn’t working out. He barely does, he doesn’t need to. It‘s Taeyong, it‘s him who needs to workout. So he embraces the sweat, the pain and the sudden warmth.
He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but he knows it‘s over when the blurriness gets worse, he knows it‘s over when he feels the pain get worse and when he feels tears fall down his cheeks. Taeyong smiles, he waits and soon, he falls asleep.
***
He doesn’t know what time it is when he wakes up, but Taeyong doesn‘t care. He slowly sits up and bites his lip when he feels the pain in his body come back. He still doesn’t know what exactly happened yesterday night, but who was he to ask? Even if it affects him, he shouldn’t ask. He isn’t allowed to ask. Taeyong looks to his side and smiles, Doyoung stayed with him. His lover was naked and fast asleep. His black hair was dried in sweat, he looked calm and comfortable. Taeyong gently pushes away some of his hair strands, just to take a better look at his face. He doesn’t deserve him, he concludes. But soon, soon he will. Soon, when his ribs and bones are there without having to suck in, soon. Taeyong notices the phone next to him and takes it. It’s Doyoungs.
He knows the password and the curiosity overtakes his mind as he unlocks the phone. He doesn’t take a look at the messages, he doesn‘t care. He doesn’t care the opened chats where Doyoung tells others to starve, where he tells others to stop eating or else they‘ll never be pretty. He doesn’t care for his blog, full of reasons to not eat, full of reasons why skinny people will always be prettier in his eyes.
Taeyong doesn’t care about all of that, he cares about his gallery.
Clicking on the little flower icon, Taeyong gets greeted with 3.642 pictures. Doyoung‘s storage is almost full, he notices.
The pictures are sorted in folders.
Jeong Jaehyun,
Kim Jungwoo,
Lee Jeno,
Park Jinyoung.
He scrolls through the pictures and frowns. All of them were the same, he already knows that. All of them were just like him, fat. With strong arms and abs and round cheeks. He continues to scroll, and feels weird. He feels weird seeing nudes from random men, they don‘t look conscious. Taeyong notices how all of them are slowly turning skinnier with every month that passes, and he feels amazed. He wonders if one day, maybe one day he will be the same.
“Didn‘t everyone teach you to not go through others‘ phones?“, a groggy voice makes him jump in surprise. The sudden movement stings, and Taeyong blinks the pain away.
With a sigh, Doyoung sits up as well and gently takes the phone from his cold hands. “If you are so curious, fine. But why don‘t you look at yourself instead of random men?“ Taeyong doesn’t understand, he doesn’t want to understand.
His lover clicks on random icons, Taeyong doesn’t dare to look. Instead, he watches him. He looks beautiful, he always does. Doyoung always looks like an angel, even if he has just woken up. “Here, look at this instead.“ Taeyong gets the phone placed in his hands, he doesn‘t want to look at the screen. He is still staring at his lover and he feels fear in his body. He doesn‘t want to look. “It is fine“, he mumbles and tries to give the phone back again, but Doyoung just chuckles. It is cold, a cold smile on his lips. “I told you to look.“
His voice is demanding again, and Taeyong is afraid. Afraid of the things his lover is capable of if he disobeys, so he gulps his fear down and turns to the phone in his hands.
His eyes meet the picture on the screen and Taeyong wants to scream and throw the phone away.
It‘s him, it‘s his face and his body. It‘s him, on the screen. His stomach is concave, his legs are bent and his eyes are half open. His cheeks are stained with tears, his body is full of marks and white spots. Taeyong counts his ribs, every single one is there. When was this picture taken? He doesn’t know, he doesn’t remember, he doesn’t want to remember. He feels his body start to shake and Doyoung takes his phone. “Next time, don‘t take my phone without permission, alright?“, he whispers into his ear. Taeyong wants to slap him away, Taeyong wants to leave. “Baby, are you okay?“, his lover sounds worried. He doesn‘t want to worry him, so he nods. “Just, surprised..“, he whispers. Doyoung giggles and kisses his temple. “Beautiful, don‘t you think so? You‘ve come so far already, I‘m proud of you, darling. You‘re doing amazing.“
Taeyong loves praises, but suddenly he feels like throwing up.
“Let‘s try 96 hours now, alright? Take your meds, you need to write some essays today, don‘t you?“ Doyoung gets up and stretches his body, Taeyong thinks he’s beautiful.
A beautiful, cruel creature.
***
Taeyong stays in bed a little bit longer, the picture lingers in his mind and the pain in his lower body is still there. He knows Doyoung has left already, he knows because he had heard the front door close. Taking a deep breath, Taeyong softly unwraps him from the blanket. He is naked and his thighs are bruised. There‘s a spot of blood under his bottom, it‘s dried already. He knows he won‘t be able to clean it now, the bedsheet is ruined. Taeyong gets up slowly, he tries his hardest to ignore the pain and regain his consciousness, but for some reason it‘s harder today. He never likes getting up because the black spots will always ruin his vision for some time, but this time they don‘t disappear. No matter how hard he blinks, the dark spots are still there, making it harder for him to see his room.
He tries to ignore it.
With careful and slow steps, Taeyong wants to reach the door. He feels his naked foot hit something, he hears something getting spilled. He notices a mirror, since when did he have a mirror?
Taeyong stares.
He watches his chest rise and fall with every breath he takes. He recognises the empty bottle of pills on the floor, most of its content was spilled everywhere. The pills are white, but it isn‘t what he normally takes.
Taeyong watches.
He bends over, careful because he’s afraid of falling, grabs one of the pills, and stares.
Taeyong recognises the shape, the colour, he knows what it is.
He smells it, he remembers the taste of the powder in his food yesterday. He picks up the bottle, blinks a few times for his eyes to focus on the words on the label, and starts reading the words. “Gamma-Hydroxybutyric acid“, he mumbles, then he begins to laugh.
He knows this, he knows it because his mother always told his cousin to watch out. “Never leave your drink alone“, she would tell her in a worried tone, “don‘t trust anyone there. Many, many people are cruel in this world, don‘t ever trust anyone.“
It‘s what they put into women‘s drinks, he knows it. He‘s heard it in the news.
Taeyong shakes his head and lets the pill and the bottle fall back to the ground. “It is what it is“, he says to himself and giggles. He doesn‘t realise the state of his room, he doesn‘t realise how messy it is. Taeyong carefully steps over paper, printed pictures of skin and bones, printed trackers of calories, weight and measurements.
“Lee Taeyong, met on 13.03.2019
starting weight: 57,7kg
goal weight: 43kg“
He ignores the unopened letters, letters from lawyers, the police and families.
“Mr. Jeong has filed a lawsuit against you. You‘re accused of murder.“
He ignores it. He doesn’t want to ask, he isn‘t allowed to ask.
Taeyong leaves the room and walks to the kitchen, he ignores the dizzy feeling and his shaking legs. He takes his pills, the red one, the blue one, the white one and the yellow one. He drinks his cold water and wonders when he last had the chance to taste warm chocolate on his lips. Taeyong watches the people from afar, living their lives without having to care for their health.
Taeyong pities them, no one has the pleasure to be loved like he has.
He giggles and sighs contently, he dreads to be back in his lover’s arms again.
With a slow beating heart and his nails turning blue, Taeyong starts to clean the apartment.
He loves cleaning, he loves clean spaces. And he knows Doyoung loves it, too.
Taeyong can‘t wait to be back in his arms.