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He didn’t know when it first began, exactly, but it was a while ago. Before debut, even. Maybe it was when he realized that all of the boys in the locker rooms in high school had more meat on their bones than him. Maybe it was when his grandfather started making jokes about his grandson’s less-than-manly physique. Who knew?
What Chanhee did know, however, was that the first time he went a full day without eating was in the tenth grade. He only lasted that long before the hunger eventually won him over and he was forced to eat a full meal. In the very back of his mind, buried somewhere underneath the utter relief from having the pangs in his stomach disappear, was the disappointment that he couldn’t go any longer, that he had just destroyed whatever progress he had made in twenty four hours. Next time I’ll do better, he resolved.
And he did, if you counted an additional ten or so hours as better. It still wasn’t enough.
He found that over time his tolerance to hunger increased and he could go longer with shorter and shorter intervals between. No matter how hard he worked, though, there was always one fault, one wrinkle in his plans that he couldn’t smooth out for the life of him.
Now, don’t think him ungrateful. Truly, he was anything but. He loved his mother, he really did. He was so very thankful that his mom was a good one. She let him get away with much more than she should’ve, looking back on his childhood years. She dried his tears, kissed his scratches and scrapes before plastering a bandaid even on the ones that weren’t bleeding just because it made him feel better, she helped fix his problems, and she always, always found a way to cook for him. If she wasn’t going to be home for dinner because of work she would put extra care into his lunch for school. It was just who she was. Unfortunately, that became a problem for her son.
His excuses of “Oh, I’m not hungry,” or “Oh, I ate more for lunch today than usual,” wouldn’t last very long, and she would catch on after a week, at most. One day he would emerge from his room to discover what seemed like a full buffet laid out on the kitchen counter, with his mom standing there next to it, a nurturing look in her eyes, and he couldn’t find the heart in himself to say no.
And so, easy as that, all of his hard work went down the drain.
At least, that was how it went for a while. Eventually the need to get better, look better became too strong for even his mother to pull him out of. He would see the meal sitting there and just tell her he was tired, goodnight. The way her whole body seemed to crumble down on itself almost changed his mind, almost, but then his stomach growled and he was reminded of how far he’d come, how he was doing so well, and he knew that he couldn’t give that up, not even for his mother whom he loved so dearly.
She had her suspicions about what was happening, he was sure, because when she took him to the doctor for his yearly physical and he came out and said: “He told me I’ve lost some weight,” with barely any emotion in his voice, she teared up and started down the hall without a word. That almost cracked his mindset, because if there was one thing in the world that could make him cry without a doubt, it was his mom crying.
Still, she never said anything about it. It might have been because she convinced herself that right now it was just her jumping to conclusions, but as soon as she spoke of it it would be manifested into reality. Maybe she didn’t want to accept that Chanhee finally had a problem that she couldn’t simply swoop in and fix.
Chanhee spent more time in the high school weight room than ever before. He wanted to look like his classmates, with more muscle than fat on their bodies. He wanted the toned arms and legs, he wanted to get rid of his baby belly. His gym teacher pulled him aside while his class was running laps.
“Are you feeling alright, Choi? I’ve noticed you putting more effort in during class, and while I’m normally all for it, this is getting to be a bit drastic.”
“I’m feeling fine, Mr. Jeon. I decided to start taking my health more seriously, that’s all,” responded Chanhee, getting more nervous. While his school didn’t really have a good track record when it came to taking care of the mental health of its students, they were certainly able to take action in order to avoid a lawsuit. If Mr. Jeon snitched…
“If you’re sure.” The teacher set a hand on Chanhee’s shoulder, looking him in the eye. “I may just be a teacher, but I care about my students. If you ever want to talk, my door’s open, son.” Then he clapped Chanhee on the back. “Get back out there before I give you extra laps.”
Passing his audition into the company was one of the best things he’d ever experienced. It felt like he would finally be able to do what he’d always wanted to do. His hard work was finally paying off.
The first person that he really connected with as a new trainee was Juyeon. He was the first other trainee that he met, but they didn’t get to know each other until around a month after their introduction to each other.
Chanhee was in a practice room alone, trying as hard as he could to get a piece of choreo down. He had passed his first monthly evaluation, and he had no intentions of not doing the same on this one. The difficulty had already been upped, even though he’d only been training for a few months in total at that point. He'd been working on this one particular move for at least an hour now. Try as he might, the footwork didn’t want to cooperate with the timing and beats of the song. He had to twist his legs around and hit several different spots with the pads of his feet all in the span of a few seconds. The more he tried, the more he was convinced that he would never be able to perform the sequence. He laid on the cold floor on his stomach, his shirt riding up just a bit. Becoming a trainee meant that he kind of had to eat more than he was used to, which he was not happy about. He could deal with it, he supposed, in the name of accomplishing his dream. He went into this knowing that sacrifices would have to be made. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out in the mirror that he had gained a bit of fat around his hips. Fat, not muscles. Could you even get muscles on your hips? He didn’t know. If you could, though, he would do it.
He felt about ready to cry. He had been with the company for less than half a year and he was already going to fail. His mother had been overjoyed when he told her that he passed his audition. How could he ever feel good about himself again after he told her that he bombed it? She wouldn’t insult him about it, he was aware, and that made it worse. She would be so goddamn understanding that it would hurt.
“You good, dude?” Chanhee’s head snapped up towards the door. He saw a boy standing there, that he vaguely remembered being acquainted with. If only he could remember his name… He realized that the boy was still standing there, gazing at him, looking rightfully concerned. Chanhee reached up and wiped the tears that had just restrained from falling. The boy’s eyes tracked the movement; he didn’t mention it, seemingly realizing that it would only bring embarrassment to Chanhee. Juyeon! That was his name!
“Uh- yeah, I’m good,” Chanhee stammered, fully aware that the atmosphere was becoming more awkward the longer he went without answering.
“...Do you need help with anything?”
“Well, there was this one move…” Juyeon’s face lit up.
“I can help you with that!” He practically skipped over and grabbed Chanhee by the forearm, pulling him to his feet.
Juyeon walked him through it, going over the steps as many times as Chanhee needed without losing a bit of patience, and within an hour’s time, Chanhee was confident that he would have no trouble with the next evaluation. After they decided to call it a day, the two stuck around in the practice room, laughing and sharing their stories. It was nice for the both of them to gain a new friend, especially for Chanhee, who had been on his own ever since he moved away from his hometown.
Over the next couple of days, Juyeon introduced Chanhee to a few other trainees. There was Hyunjae, whose laughter could break glass, and Haknyeon, who was quite a shy boy, being the youngest current trainee, and finally Changmin. He was the same age as Chanhee and Juyeon and, after only two weeks of knowing each other, was on a fast track to becoming one of Chanhee’s closest friends. There was something about the other boy that Chanhee couldn’t put his finger on. He was loud, even more so than Hyunjae when he wanted to be, which was normally something that would turn Chanhee away from a person. But, contrary to the previous observation, he was also very quiet and thoughtful. He could give his honest opinion on things without coming off as rude or disrespectful. If you needed to confide in him he was able to lower his volume and calm down, to let you take your time as you put your thoughts into words.
With the help of all of his new friends, he was able to expand his circle by a lot. In between the training periods they would go out and just mess around together, getting a chance to act their age instead of spending their entire exsistences singing and dancing.
There was a point where Chanhee had a realization. Thinking back from that moment, he had known it subconsciously ever since he first met all of them. They were all out at a family restaurant down the road from the company building. The atmosphere was lively; glasses that contained nothing more than coke were being clinked, conversation was buzzing. The group of boys was sitting at a large table in the corner, the area lit up by a tabletop candle and fairy lights strung around the place. All eleven of them passed their monthly evaluations. To most people it wasn’t cause for that big a celebration. To them, it was one step closer to accomplishing what most could only dream of.
Sangyeon, sitting in his spot to the right of Chanhee, stepped back from the conversation to turn to his neighbor. He raised his eyebrows at how little food was missing from his plate. The only person who had a similar sight in front of them was Kevin, who was suffering from a stomach bug. The oldest had noticed that Chanhee ate significantly less than the rest of them, but he had chalked it up to being a quirk of his.
“Is that all you’re eating?”
Chanhee startled at the sudden question. “Oh, uh… yeah. I never eat very much, it’s alright. I can pay you back for this if you want.”
“There’s no need, you’re fine.”
There was a clatter, and then a hurried scramble for the middle of the table. As they’d all come to learn, Sunwoo was a very tenacious person when it came to the most trivial of things. The current debate that was being held was how long it would take for five ten-year-olds to take Sunwoo to the ground. Sunwoo was absolutely certain that he could last more than five minutes. Eric, Changmin, and Hyunjae all bet against him. In his growing determination to convince them he was right, he stood up from his seat to try and gain the high ground. (Hey, he wasn’t above intimidation). He’d bumped the table on the way up, knocking over not only Younghoon’s glass, but also the candle in the middle. The subsequent ruckus was the result of everyone except for Sangyeon and Chanhee making a leap for the candle. The goal was to pick it up before it set the restaurant ablaze. What was actually achieved? Nine different people got caught in a, quite literal, head-on collision. Granted, the candle did go out at some point, but it was up in the air whether that was a direct result of their efforts or not.
Being in the presence of nine people with possible concussions arguing about ten-year-olds and candles and whose fault it was, and just watching amusedly from the sidelines, was not where Chanhee thought he would be in his life. But he found that he much preferred it over anywhere else. And it was there, deciding whether he believed in Sunwoo’s odds against a handful of children, that Chanhee realized that if he was going to debut, he wanted it to be with these people. All of them.
Chanhee was self-aware enough to recognize that if he wanted to continue with his career in this industry, he had to eat enough to be able to function. Enough. He could manage that.
Even though he had reconciled himself to the fact that he would be taking in a lot more calories than before, he had to compromise. Instead of letting himself run wild with it, he had to have a strict menu. He started eating the same thing for breakfast everyday, the same thing for lunch everyday, and the same thing for dinner everyday. There was no room for daily snacks of any sort. Every so often, sure. But daily? No way. As far he was concerned, he was already taking in more than he should be.
With this new schedule in place, it was easier to keep track of how many calories he was consuming. The amount he burned varied on a day to day basis. He figured that he burned so many calories from dancing that it would eventually balance out with the sudden change in his diet.
It took some time getting used to. He didn’t try to ease himself into it, no. The very first day of putting his plan into action he ate everything that he planned to. He had taken about a week deciding which foods he could take eating every single day. His stomach was, understandably, not used to such quantities of food. He had a stomach ache for the entirety of day one, and the days following.
He was relieved to discover that he didn’t gain much weight because of the new diet.
The members found his habits… odd, to say the least. They noticed that his palate was limited, and that he was skinny. Incredibly skinny. Most of them took it to be his natural state. Privately, Jacob thought that it might have gone past that. The only thing that stopped him from asking about it was the worry that it may be too personal of a question.
So, while they thought it mildly interesting, maybe strange at the worst of times, no one was too concerned about it. It was just one of the many features that came with Chanhee.
Choi Chanhee was doing absolutely fine, thank you very much. One hundred percent, completely and totally, A-okay.
There was a knock on the door. “Chanhee? Is everything okay there?”
What do you think, idiot? is what he wanted to scream back, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead what he said was, “Yeah, you don’t need to worry, Younghoon-hyung. I’ll be out soon.”
He waited for the sound of retreating footsteps to bury his face back into his pillow to continue his sob-fest. He really didn’t know what happened this time. His day was going fine. Great, even. There was no reason for him to be in this position right now.
The whole group was down in the practice room. They were taking a quick break, just to catch their breath. Haknyeon dropped down onto the ground in the middle of the room and laid down in one single motion, the air movement flinging his shirt up a bit to expose his stomach. The skin shown was still soft; you could pinch and pull up a bit without too much struggle. Eric saw this from his position in the corner, legs spread apart as far as they could go. He wiped some sweat off of his forehead with his arm, immediately getting scolded for it by Kevin, who insisted that everyone use the provided towels. “What else are they for?” he would argue.
“No abs yet, hyung?” Eric teased.
“Like you’re doing any better,” Haknyeon scoffed.
“Actually, I’m getting pretty close.” As proof, he lifted his shirt up halfway. Sure enough, you could see faint outlines of abs there. Wolf whistles came from all directions. Eric looked pleased with the reaction.
No one noticed Chanhee tense up, gripping his midriff tightly.
He made sure that he was the first one to walk into the dorm, rushing to the bathroom. Hyunjae yelled after him, complaining. He was ignored.
Chanhee stood there holding up his shirt. The smooth skin taunted him. Why didn’t he have Eric’s almost-abs? Was he not doing enough? The question made him tear up. He thought that he was doing well with the diet and exercise.
He speed-walked down the hall into the room that he shared with Changmin. He closed the door behind him but didn’t bother locking it; Changmin would probably want to come in soon, and it wouldn’t be fair to lock him out.
Chanhee pushed his face into his pillow and let the tears pour down his face. Now that he was falling into this rabbit hole there was no getting out. No matter what he tried to distract himself with to make his head be quiet, it was knocked down by stupid Eric and his stupid almost-abs, by oh my god why isn’t it working.
Then Younghoon had the nerve to ask if he was okay, like he could be anywhere near that right now. And when Chanhee lied despite his wish for someone to come in and comfort him, Younghoon walked away. He cried even harder.
To his ears it was like an air raid siren was wailing. How his members didn’t hear him going off like a swing set in need of greasing, he had no idea. He wished that someone would. He wanted to talk to someone, anyone.
His stomach growled. It was a bitter reminder that this was all for nothing. He wasn’t any closer to reaching his goals than he was back in his scrawny high school days.
He thought of how back then, his mother wouldn’t stand for hearing that sound. When she started hearing that noise more often was when she started preparing the meals that were so big they would keep the whole family fed for days to come. Before his mind even caught up to what his body was doing, he had already pulled out his phone to call his mom.
It rang, and kept ringing. He realized that she may not pick up. It was late for a woman her age; she might be sleeping.
The ringing went on for several more beats. He was getting ready to hang up. He didn’t think that he could handle hearing her voice on the voicemail. The red button was intimidating, and he couldn’t help hesitating. He was glad that he did.
“Chanhee? What do you need?” came the groggy voice of his mother.
“Mom,” he sobbed out, but he couldn’t say anything else.
“Chanhee!” she sounded more alert now. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Mom, I- I can’t.”
“You can’t what? Come on, talk to me.”
“It’s not working! No matter what I do, I can’t!”
“Okay, it’s okay, honey. Listen to me for a second, please,” she spoke calmly, determined to be strong for her son. He didn’t let out anything other than a sniffle, so she continued. “Whatever is going on, I promise it’ll be fine. Have I ever lied to you about this?”
He croaked out a no.
“That’s right. Can you tell me what’s wrong? I’ll be real quiet while you explain.”
That was exactly what he needed to hear.
“I- I’ve been trying to get more muscles, so I’ve been working out more on top of dancing.” She hummed. “But that’s not all. I’m on a diet, one that I chose myself. It’s… you wouldn’t like it, I know. But I like it. Or I liked it. It hasn’t been working at all. I’m not any more muscular. And I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried everything but I’m still just as soft as before.”
She hummed again. He recognized the tune as a jingle from a commercial that aired constantly when he was younger.
“Well, honey, I think that if you want to have a bunch of muscles, there are easier ways to do it. Ways that won’t hurt you. I won’t ask you to tell me what the details of your ‘diet’ are, because you have a reason for not telling me. Whatever happens next, you’ll have me with you.”
Chanhee could feel himself tearing up again, this time for a completely different reason. While listening to her he thought back to the last time he actually heard her speaking. It was at least three months ago. Never before had he gone that long without talking to his mother. He’d just been so busy, the whole group had. As much as he tried to tell himself that, he couldn’t help but feel like he was making excuses. I was busy before, and I still found time to talk to her.
She heard him start sniffling again. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“I realized that I haven’t been calling you as often as I should have been. I’m sorry,” he said, truly regretful.
His mother laughed lightly. “Don’t worry about it! We’ve been texting a lot, and I’m grateful for that. You’ve been making time for me even though you have so much to do every day.”
“Still, I wish I could talk to you more.”
“I do too, honey. But we both also have our own people to talk to, so we won’t get too lonely.” She was silent for a moment. “Speaking of which, I think you should talk to your friends about this. They’ll be able to do a lot more for you, being so close and all.”
“I can’t! They would-” he faltered.
“What would they do?” she asked gently. “Honey, they love you. They just want to help.”
He sighed. “I guess you’re right. Like always.”
“What can I say? I have a mother’s intuition.”
“It’s getting late. I better go now if I want to catch them all before they go to bed.”
“You stay in here for a while and get yourself cleaned up. Give me ten minutes.”
“...Mom, what are you planning?” he asked cautiously.
“I want to talk to them quickly before you go out there. Is there something wrong with that?” She purposely tried to make herself sound more innocent.
He elected to ignore that. “Goodnight, mom,”
She laughed with her whole chest this time. “Goodnight, Chanhee.”
Only a few yards down the hall sat ten other boys, all gathered in one place. They had managed to cram everyone into the one living room, with several people spread out on the floor.
Younghoon walked back in, shaking his head. They all slumped.
“I was really hoping he would just tell us what’s wrong,” said Eric. All of them knew that something was up with Chanhee, but they couldn’t figure out what it was.
“Things would have to be really bad for that to happen,” reasoned Sunwoo. “Frankly, I would be more worried if he gave in that easily.”
The room was quiet enough for everyone to hear the buzzing of someone’s phone. Sangyeon pulled it out of his pocket, frowning at the name shown on the screen. He put it up to his ear.
“Mrs. Choi?” As the leader, he had the phone numbers of most of the members’ parents. It was a safety precaution, in case he needed to get in contact with one of them quickly. He listened to what she had to say and then put the phone on speaker. “I did it.”
“Good,” said Chanhee’s mother. “What I'm going to say is important so I want all of you to pay attention.”
Her voice was colder than any of them had heard before. It scared them; they had no idea what was going on.
“My son, your groupmate, has been struggling for quite a while now, and none of you have noticed. I can’t say that I’m not disappointed, or that I understand, because you all have been living with him for a a couple of years now, and I don’t know how you could have possibly not realized -” the tone in her words changed as she spoke, and she now sounded less angry and more distraught.
“Mrs. Choi! Calm down. Chanhee’s fine,” Juyeon cut in. He waited for her breathing to level. “What were we supposed to notice?”
When she responded, it was shaky at best. “Chanhee is on a diet. Not a healthy one, either.”
Kevin got a funny feeling in his gut. Having been raised in a country with less of a stigma against mental health, he was more familiar with the euphemisms used in regards to eating disorders. He locked eyes with Jacob, and could tell that his fellow Canadian was thinking the same thing.
“What do you mean by that?” Kevin asked, trying to sound neutral.
“He wouldn’t tell me anything specific. It’s- when he was in high school, he struggled with… eating, at all. I don’t know if it's still that, or if it’s different now. But I’m worried about him.”
Looking around the room, Kevin saw that the others were just as affected by the information as he was. Hyunjae was huddled into Younghoon’s side, the latter’s arm wrapped around his shoulders. The three maknaes each looked as if they’d just been sucker punched, gathering together for support. Kevin himself felt like was tricked into biting into a lemon after being told it was an orange.
Jacob took the initiative.
“Thank you for letting us know. We’ll help him as best we can, Mrs. Choi. You have my word,” he spoke quietly yet still rushing to get the words out.
“I trust you. Please, don’t let my boy hurt any longer.”
She hung up. The buzz echoed throughout the room.
No one opened their mouths to speak. If they did, nothing would come out. No one knew what to say.
Luckily they didn’t need to know. Chanhee chose that moment to emerge into the living room. He had washed his face, but his eyes and nose were still clearly pink. When he walked out to everyone staring at him, he gave his best smile. It was weak, and obviously fake. Nevertheless, it made everyone else feel a bit better.
“Hey guys.” His voice cracked in the middle, which was something he would normally be made fun of for.
Haknyeon ran over and pulled him into a hug, making Chanhee let out a surprised squeak. Haknyeon shushed him, holding Chanhee’s face on his shoulder. They sat there for a minute or two, either not noticing or not caring about being the focus of the room.
Sunwoo cleared his throat. Haknyeon glared at him, not wanting to let go. Eventually he had to, grabbing Chanhee by the wrist and taking him to sit between him and Eric, Sunwoo sliding down to the floor in front of them.
Chanhee clasped his hands together on his lap. Eric was leaning his head on his shoulder.
“I’m not starving myself, if that’s what you want to hear,” he said finally. He felt Eric relax. It was short lived.
“It doesn’t matter what we want to hear,” Younghoon reminded him. “What matters is the truth.”
“Good thing that is the truth, then.”
Disbelieving looks were aimed at him.
“Your mom said that you had a hard time eating in high school,” added Sangyeon.
Chanhee closed his eyes.
“I was hoping she didn’t mention that,” he said slowly. “That’s true. In high school I didn’t eat a lot. As little as I could, actually. But that didn’t last long, I promise! It ended after debut. Now I’m on a diet.”
“Chanhee, stuff like that doesn’t just go away. What exactly does this diet entail?” questioned Jacob.
“I eat the same things every day. I exercise. It’s not that complicated. Really guys, I’m fine.”
“And what are those things?” Kevin was currently fighting to remain collected. He asked that as if they didn’t already know. They all knew what Chanhee ate. They all saw him eating it. But they wanted him to say it. Maybe, by some miracle, they were wrong.
Chanhee listed the meal plan he had meticulously set up, taking into account both how much he liked the food and how many calories it contained. With each detail out of his mouth, he grew more uneasy. Saying it out loud made it seem a whole lot worse.
Juyeon stood and paced the room. It took a while for everyone to process everything that they’d taken in.
“You know that this can’t continue, right.” Jacob stated it as a fact, like there was no way that Chanhee couldn’t be aware of it.
“But I’m doing okay! If anything, I need to be stricter. I’m clearly not improving at all.”
“And what would you count as improvement?” Younghoon asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the honest answer.
Chanhee snorted without humor. “I still look like a fucking stick, hyung! What else do you want from me?”
Beside him, Eric paled, connecting the dots. He jerked back to get a better view of Chanhee.
“Hyung… this doesn’t have anything to do with what happened earlier, does it?”
“I mean, kinda?” Chanhee shrugged, rubbing up and down the back of his neck. “I wanted abs and muscles and all that before you mentioned it. That just kind of triggered this whole… episode. Not that it’s your fault!” he hurried to add. “It’s not your fault at all. I’m just way too sensitive.”
“I’m really sorry,” Eric said, ignoring the entire previous statement.
“Whether you like it or not, Chanhee,” Sangyeon began, trying to get the conversation back on track (they would deal with the maknae’s misplaced guilt later), “this needs to stop. You’re hurting yourself.” His confidence died out near the end, replaced by a plea. “I don’t want to see you hurt anymore.”
“You don’t need to be jacked to be handsome,” Juyeon found his voice, “I thought so too. But then I saw you and I realized that wasn’t the case. You’re ridiculously attractive, and it’s a wonder how you think you need any improvement.”
“You really think so?”
“Hell yeah!” said Hyunjae. “You could probably take Juyeon’s place in the visual line.”
There was a muttered, “I wouldn’t go that far,” from Juyeon, and then the chatter died down.
Someone cleared their throat, breaking the silence. They all turned to Changmin, who hadn’t been heard since before the phone call. He looked pale, his eyes glassy.
“Choi Chanhee, you goddamn idiot.”
He shut his eyes to the looks of shock.
“You are single handedly the most idiotic person I know right now. The fact that you looked at yourself and thought: ‘I could be better’, and then looked at all of your options and chose fucking starving yourself to be the next logical course of action? Already not a good start. But oh no, you couldn’t just stop there, could you? Instead of, I don’t know, coming to one of the eleven people you live with , you just shoved it all inside yourself, because the great Choi Chanhee always knows what he’s doing! You’re usually the smartest one of us all, but this is the most brainless thing any of us have ever done.”
By the end of his rant he was shaking and panting. He gathered his courage and looked his best friend in the eye.
“Please, if not for your sake, then for mine, let us help you.”
Changmin’s voice broke in the middle of the sentence. The tears welled up, and it hurt Chanhee more to see him like that than he had hurt for the past few years. While Changmin’s words stung, Chanhee knew that he could never stay mad at him for long.
Chanhee opened his arms invitingly. Changmin took it. He dashed there, only making it halfway before he decided that it was taking too long and diving there. He cried, and that made Chanhee cry, and oh god now everyone was crying.
We’ve done a lot of things together, Chanhee thought, but we’ve never had a group crying session.
Oh well. There’s a first time for everything.
Eventually they all dispersed. Changmin refused to let go of Chanhee, but so did Sunwoo, so the trio ended up crashing together on Chanhee’s bed.
Everyone was aware that a few compliments wouldn’t destroy Chanhee’s insecurities. It would take a lot more time than that, and like Jacob said, it wasn’t just gonna go away. It would always linger. But they would go through it together, like they did with everything.
They would help get Chanhee back to a healthy diet, and to a healthy weight, and only then would they let him try to gain abs if he still wanted to. It would be a struggle not to smother him, but they would manage. For him, they would manage.
And if a bouquet of flowers showed up on a certain mother’s doorstep a few weeks later, attached to a card signed with eleven names, then, well, there were some things that Chanhee didn’t need to know.