Chapter Text
Nick sat cross-legged on his bed, biting his nails. He wasn’t sure what to do - his brain was telling him two entirely different things.
He and his two brothers had just uploaded a video, and he knew the comments would start rolling in soon. He was put in charge of deleting the hateful ones. Every video, someone - usually Chris, the least sensitive out of all three brothers - had to filter through the hate and delete some of it. He obviously missed a few spots, but still. They preferred to keep their comment sections drama-free and supportive.
Actually, it was a miracle Chris even let Nick take on the task because it was his fault he had to do it in the first place. Nick’s tendency to overthink made things hard, and his tendency to take everything personally made everything impossible. They had to filter out the hate for his sake. But, to his credit, he wasn’t even the reason it was still going. That was mostly because of Matt’s anxiety.
And Chris? Chris seemed fine, honestly. Chris had always seemed fine. He was like a pillar, grounding his brothers when they needed it and always bringing them back together. Sure, he fought with Nick sometimes - and fought with Matt even more often - but that came with the whole sibling package. He was often more of a peacemaker than the one participating in the fighting. And he enjoyed the makeshift role he’d taken on, of the structure of the group. Nick was, of course, what fueled their Youtube channel. Everyone contributed with their own humor, but his loudness and ability to improv flawlessly made him an invaluable asset. Without him, they wouldn’t have even made it to a million. He was the comedic genius, the natural. And Matt was the mature one - sort of like a mom friend, except he was also a helicopter parent. He constantly asked how everyone was doing, constantly worried about everyone but himself. He knew how messed up his own mental health was, so he tried to save everyone else from going down the same path. Unfortunately, his plan hadn’t worked. Or at least, it wouldn’t.
Nick finally decided to choose the second option of what his brain was telling him: just suck it up and delete a couple of comments.
Really, Nick knew what was best for him - to hand the duty back to Chris. It would’ve saved him a world of pain. But to be fair, he’d endure endless teasing if he tried to make Chris do it. He’d be labeled a baby and it would probably be brought up in the next car video, whether he liked it or not, and he’d just have to pretend it wasn’t carving him out from the inside.
So he took a deep breath and opened up the comment section.
Most were nice. The others were condescending, but not outwardly bullying, so he decided to just leave some passive-aggressive ones. After all, balance is good. Their comment section couldn’t look too perfect because the fans didn’t even know they did it yet. If they were to bring it up, people would surely get curious and jump to conclusions. People would think it was because of Matt’s anxiety or a deeper problem. The point is, they’d read too far into it, and the triplets didn’t need another thing on their plate. Earning themselves the worry of a couple million people was not ideal on top of everything else they already had to deal with.
So Nick kept scrolling, searching for anything that might be pure hate. He was pleasantly surprised at the lack of rude comments. He’d expected much more; maybe he hadn’t waited long enough. Or maybe there weren’t going to be any, and he’d have an easy job.
Unfortunately, he was mistaken.
He went downstairs and grabbed a plate of spaghetti. He ate with his brothers, all of them too occupied on their phones to even glance at one another. It was dinners like that that were quiet, but powerful. Sitting in silence, each doing their own thing, somehow only increased their bond further, maybe even further than just spending quality time together did. Maybe it was because they could really sit in each other's company, get lost in their own thoughts but when they got pulled back to reality they’d have two amazing brothers waiting for them.
Nick got up for a second plate, and then a third. He was halfway finished with it when Matt stood up and started scooping it into a bowl.
“Are you guys done already?” Nick asked, looking between his brothers. They nodded, both keeping their heads down. He tried his absolute hardest not to overthink that.
“OK. Well, I was craving something sweet…” He stood up and started to head over to the pantry.
Nick reached for the bowl of Halloween candy (all collected by Matt, who insisted 19 was not too old to go trick-or-treating with friends.)
Matt cleared his throat. “You can only have one piece, Nick.”
“What?” Nick asked, already unwrapping a Kit-Kat. “One piece? Are you joking? That won’t get me through the night. Besides, you never cared before.”
“Well, I care now.” Matt’s voice was firm and a little sharp. It caught Nick off guard.
He muttered something about waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but he obliged Matt’s request and only ate one.
Chris suggested they watch a movie.
“Sure, I’ll pick out the snacks,” Nick replied eagerly. “What do we want? Sour gummy worms? Popcorn?”
“Actually, I’m getting tired,” Matt interjected. “I’m feeling kind of down, so I’m gonna head to bed early. Could you not watch anything without me?”
“Not even Riverdale?” Nick asked. “You hate Riverdale.”
Matt nodded. “Not even Riverdale. I’ll feel totally left out, kid.”
Nick shrugged. “OK. Well, I’m heading to my room to shower.” He hadn’t noticed anything off with the two at the time, but if he had turned around when he reached the top of the stairs, he would’ve seen Matt and Chris exchange a knowing glance.
Nick sat down on his bed, thinking he’d have the whole hate comment work cut out for him. His fanbase wasn’t very toxic, minus TikTok, and people barely sent him hate via YouTube. He thought he was safe, so he kept the filter on top comments and just scrolled through a few.
He stopped when he came to a promising one.
User 1394: im not tryna be mean but bro, i think nick has put on more weight. at 12:54 you can literally see his stomach hanging out, gross. he’s rlly let himself go🤷♀️
Nick’s eyes widened. The comment itself was bad enough, but 214 likes? Two hundred and fourteen people agreed that he had been gaining weight?
In the comments, someone was defending him with their life. That wasn’t new. Their comments cut off after a while, though. They must’ve given up on replying to everyone that responded to them.
Nick scrolled through the responses. A bunch were affirming the original comment, offering their own personal opinions and talking about diet options.
User 3828: my cousin had bulimia and kinda looked fat like him, what if he has an ed?
Nick furrowed his brow. What was bulimia?
A quick Google search told him it was a subtype of eating disorder where you would throw up after you ate. He did a little more reading on the topic, then went back to YouTube. Most comments were also commenting about his weight. Every single hate comment, except for one regarding Chris’s mullet, was about him. What was Nick supposed to do with that information? He was a laughingstock. The butt of the joke.
He saw a few more comments about bulimia and seriously considered it for a second. His heart sank to his feet, but what could it hurt? Trying it out one time?
He slowly made his way into his bathroom. He flicked on the light and stared at himself in the mirror. They weren’t wrong; he’d been putting on a few pounds for the past month or two. What would losing ten pounds hurt him? It would make him look better, maybe get everyone’s eyes off him.
He thought he was ready to handle the hate. He just hadn’t expected it all to be about him. Was he as fat as they claimed? As stupid, as ugly, as worthless?
Some part of his brain reaffirmed those toxic claims, solidifying them like concrete in his brain chemistry. He planted the root that would keep growing and growing and growing unless he did something to stop it. But he’d been entrusted with a duty. He couldn’t just stop the root, and besides, it was already there.
He turned on the shower, figuring it might hide the sound of him retching. He opened up the toilet and leaned over it awkwardly. He didn’t feel nauseous at all. It looks like he’d have to do that part himself.
He took a deep breath, all his senses heightened. Even so, he could barely feel the cold bathroom tile beneath him digging into his knees.
He hesitantly took his index and middle finger, putting them in his mouth. Then he shoved them against the back of his throat, becoming more insistent with every push.
His stomach churned and his throat felt sorer than before, but besides that, nothing.
Finally, he slumped against his wall, at a loss for ideas. Then he grabbed a hairbrush off the top of the counter and turned it over so he was holding the brush and the handle was pointed down his throat.
He jabbed it in, a little too hard, and almost immediately he was leaning over the toilet bowl throwing up. His entire dinner was splayed out in the toilet bowl, the smell awful. His eyes watered incessantly.
He tried again, to no avail. Then he used his fingers instead, this time digging his nails into the back of his throat. He did it twice, and then it worked, making him keel over again. He threw up via fingers until all he could throw up was stomach acid. His throat burned like crazy, his knuckles bruised and his breath horrible. He flushed the toilet and turned off the shower. He then opted for a piece of gum.
It took him approximately three chews for everything to click.
Earlier, in the kitchen. When Matt started cleaning up and no one would meet his eyes. It was because they didn’t want him to have a fourth bowl. When he reached inside the candy bowl, expecting to get a bunch, Matt told him he could only have one. When Chris offered a movie, Matt made an excuse because he didn’t want Nick to eat the snacks.
Even my brothers think I’m fat, He thought to himself. Maybe this is good.
And so for the next few weeks, that became his reality. He would eat something and then run to the bathroom, turn on the faucet, and throw up. It worked perfectly for a time. He didn’t eat, technically, for two days once. He was losing a decent amount of weight. He had been entrusted with deleting hate comments more often. And he noticed the ones about him being fat slowly starting to fade, replaced with ones about him getting thinner by the day.
So he kept purging and kept eating, although his portion sizes spiraled more and more out of control each day. He could eat whatever he wanted, and it wouldn’t matter! He could eat an entire buffet and go throw it up and none of the calories would count. How perfect was that?
But, as with all things, eventually, they must come to an end.
This happened at home, which was unexpected. Normally people are caught purging at school or a restaurant or in public, but never in the safety of their own bathroom.
Nick and his brothers had just finished dinner. Chris, like usual, offered they watch a movie.
“Sure,” Nick said. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”
“OK,” Matt said. “What snacks do you want?”
“Um, I’ll see when I come back.”
Matt started rummaging through the pantry nonetheless. He found two different types of popcorn, buttered and salted. He couldn’t remember exactly why, but he felt the need to find Nick to ask his preference. So he did, walking to the bathroom down the hall.
Even with the faucet running, Matt could hear something. It sounded like vomit.
Without thinking, mind clouded by worry, Matt swung open the door.
Only to find Nick shoving his bruised knuckles down his throat, eyes wide. He leaned over the bowl and let the contents of his dinner spill over his chapped lips.
“Nick?” Matt asked in a very, very small voice.
Nick turned in fear. His eyes widened even further and he wiped his mouth. “Uh, I-“
“Are you making yourself throw up?” Matt asked, his eyes filling with tears as he clasped his hands over his mouth. The popcorn dropped to the ground.
Hearing the noise, Chris stepped into the hallway and surveyed the scene, incredibly confused.
Nick started sobbing. “I’m sorry, Matt.” Then he stuck his fingers down his throat again.
“Stop!” Matt cried, his voice cracking. “Stop it right now!” He grabbed Nick’s shoulders, shaking him, which made Nick throw up the finality of his dinner.
“I had to finish,” Nick whispered. “I had to.”
“Nick!” Matt sobbed, slumping to the ground and wrapping his arms around the older. He was careful not to squeeze him too tight, but still grabbed onto him like it was his last day on Earth.
Chris snapped out of his paralysis, jumping to help Nick. His mind worked on autopilot, flushing the toilet and helping his brother to the couch, getting him a piece of gum, and fixing everyone tea. Everything went by in a blur, and the next thing he knew, they all had a glass of green tea in their hands and tears streaming down their faces.
“Kid, why didn’t- why didn’t you say something?” Matt asked. His leg was bouncing relentlessly. “We could’ve helped you.”
“No.” Nick’s voice was painfully raw. “You couldn’t have.” A tear slipped from his eye, running down his cheek slowly.
Chris looked down at the steam emulating from his tea, too immersed in his overthinking. What on earth was he going to do? How could he tell their parents? Was Nick going to be okay?
“Are you okay to answer a few questions?” Chris asked softly.
Nick hesitated, but nodded once.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Less than a month,” Nick said quickly. “Maybe two or three weeks.”
Chris exhaled. “OK.” At least it hadn’t been months without either of them noticing. He didn’t think he could ever forgive himself for not finding out sooner, even so. “And why did you start?”
Nick looked down at his feet. He knew he couldn’t say the real reason. He’d be coined a baby, given crap about it, and ridiculed for it. Even years down the road when everyone thought it didn’t bother him anymore, it would. He loved his brothers to death, but they never knew when to stop. So he wouldn’t be completely truthful. He never promised he would be, after all.
“Hated looking at you guys,” He admitted finally. “Hated looking at you guys and then seeing myself. It was like a fatter version of you two. I’ve always been the ugly triplet. The annoying one, the loud one, the big one. I was just so sick of it. I thought maybe if I was thin, I wouldn’t always be the odd one out. If I looked like you guys, maybe we’d be more equal.”
“Oh, Nick.” Matt reached over and wrapped him in a hug. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. You’re so perfect. You don’t need to be like us. You’re so, so perfect, honey. I love you. So much.” A hot tear slid down his cheek onto Nick’s shoulder.
“I know,” Nick whispered. “But I’m scared to stop. What if I gain weight again?”
“Hey,” Matt said softly, “If it bothers you, we’ll go to the doctor. She’ll help us with a weight loss plan. But please, you can’t keep hurting yourself like this. Promise me, kid. Promise me you won’t keep hurting yourself like this.”
“I…” Nick glanced around. He could see their eyes on him. Waiting for an answer. An answer he couldn’t give.
“I can’t,” He whispered finally. He couldn’t meet either of their eyes. He knew he’d disappointed them. He couldn’t bear to face the misery - the misery he’d caused.
“Okay,” Matt said, to Nick’s surprise. “We’ll figure it out, okay sweetie? But we’re going to try to help you. There’s a healthier way to lose weight, Nick, a faster way without killing yourself.”
Nick managed a smile, but he was just so scared.
“We’ll get through this,” Chris added softly. “I’m so sorry I didn’t notice.”
“It’s not your fault,” Nick offered weakly. “I’m just- I’m just messed up in the brain. But I want to get better, really I do.”
“Then you will,” Matt comforted, wiping another tear that fell down his face. “You will, Nick.”
In response, Nick turned and sobbed into Matt’s shoulder. Chris eventually put down his cup and joined them, finally allowing himself to cry.