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a cry for help, says the news article, a young girl seeking attention that nobody gave her
so jeongguk shouldn't feel this way. after all, he has all the
fucking attention
he could want.
it begins -
does it? has it ever really begun? did it begin when he was small or did it begin when he was big?? (bigandfat) or did it begin yesterday or will it begin again tomorrow? the terror makes him feel ill. everything makes him feel ill. when does it begin?
it doesn't begin when taehyung kisses him for the first time. kisses
soft and sweet and tasting of chocolate
chocolate
silky and smooth like taehyung's voice, lips moving with more experience than jeongguk will ever have, hands pushing him back into the wall and soft hums of encouragement, and the sound of love somewhere. love is here. in potentia. love in potentia - love to be made.
jeongguk has always fallen in love too quickly.
when he was a trainee, the others
(twenty-two vying for his place)
used to try and put him down. "they're just
jealous
of you," says namjoon, a tall and gangly kid with a secure position, patting jeongguk on the head. "don't
listen
to them, you hear me?"
they called him piggy because he ate so much at group meals and they called him tubby when his thighs wobbled in the dance practice room and they called him chubby-baby when they pinched his cheeks too tight and laughed. laughed. but they were more talented than broken-voice-awkward-jeongguk and they were his hyungs, so he had to listen to him.
and that's where it began.
and here he is now, tasting three fingers in the back of his throat and crying because it hurts too much but it doesn't hurt enough, does it?
yoongi-hyung paid for meat tonight and jeongguk ate too much. he ate so much he thought he was going to be sick right there and then
how embarrassing
in the middle of the meal. and the worst thing, the thing that horrifies him, is
taehyung knowing. taehyung
would recoil (shudder) away at the mess the golden fucking maknae has become, three fingers and a toilet bowl and the glaring glaring glaring of the yellow light above the bathroom mirror when he stands to clean his face and his sticky-saliva hands. today he ate
an apple
meat
rice
a bowl of cereal
and that is ridiculous. that is stupid.
he nips the fat at his waistline between index finger and thumb and vows to do harder
because he's the golden fucking maknae, that's what he does, he tries he tries he tries
he tries harder
and he's going to be the best at this.
on a weigh-in day he's praised for getting down to 60 kilograms.
not enough. yoongi-hyung is 57. jeongguk is too heavy.
their twitter handle is jonghyunsthighs and they say in their bio that they are a seokjin stan and proud and jeongguk is learning english so that he can communicate with his fans so he scrolls, the pads of his thumb hot on the overheated screen, to see what the seokjin stan has to say
my jeongguk threat (17 replies)
and he thought it would be nice. oh,
how lovely to get some praise. once. once in a while it makes him feel good.
reply 17: and thats why i feel like jk doesnt try enough to keep in shape for bangtan but idk what do u think
he doesn't.
he feels happy when the screen clicks shut. all he wants is some
validation
for what he's doing. (to himself.) (for himself.)
"baby."
"sweetie."
"honey."
"gukkie?"
"jeongguk?"
taehyung is waving pancakes under his nose and the smell would make him sick if he had anything in him to throw up. "morning," he says.
"you never eat breakfast," says taehyung with alarming awareness. "i made pancakes."
jeongguk forces two into his mouth and then goes to brush his teeth.
it takes him five minutes.
nobody wonders. nobody asks. is that for the best? are they letting the golden maknae do what he wants, find his feet, get rid of all this excess?
jeongguk collapses.
hoseok finds him.
yoongi cries.
taehyung refuses to sleep for four days.
jeongguk wakes up to the sound of beep-beep-beep and the taste of acrid vomit in his mouth. he wants to cry, so he does.
golden fucking maknae does what he wants, anyway.
"baby," taehyung says, pats his head, smelling of coffee and shaking so much jeongguk has to hold him (as best he can with an iv in his arm)
and maybe he's never going to be okay.
but maybe he is.
it's up to him to decide that. what's future is future.
what's present is present.
what's past is past.
"i made you breakfast," says taehyung.
jeongguk eats half a pancake and doesn't bother brushing his teeth.