A Place In This World

Desperate Measures

Taylor's POV

Ever since the incident, Josh had holed me up inside his apartment. I guess I'd been so out of it, I never learned he had his own drama in his life. Him and Amanda were still together, they were just living seperatley. He never gave me an answer as to how it got like that, and I never asked.

It had been a few weeks, and I was surprised I hadn't gone insane yet. Better yet, Josh hadn't even pushed me that hard to eat. I had fallen into the familiar pattern of not eating anything for three days or so, then crumbling and having a handful of grapes or something. But the hunger was good. The hunger made me feel lighter. Better—like I was making progress in whatever the hell I was doing to myself.

But with hunger, came tiredness. I had no energy—it was exhausting, and I wasn't even doing anything. I could feel this diet forming into a disease.

I think Josh had noticed that as well, because in the last couple of days, he had been pushing a little harder to make me eat something. He had yet to succeed. There had been a lot of fighting between us—mostly caused by me. I felt bad for yelling at Josh, which made me feel worse.

Desperate Measures was being filmed tomorrow, and I was absolutely terrified. I just didn't have the energy to have a fifteen hour work day. I was terrified to face Dave again. Would he scold me for not losing enough weight? Or would he laugh at what I've become? Fans were going to be there. I was worried they would judge me. Judge me about everything I am.

I felt even more alone than before. I had to keep my secrets barried even deeper with Josh around, although he already knew them all. How I got to this point in my life, I didn't know.

I was lying in Josh's bed, not bothering to get up. Getting up meant dizziness, and having to face Josh. Here, bundled under his covers, I could hide myself. Hide myself from him, and hide myself from me. The door opened, and in came Josh, holding a bowl of a cut up apple.

"Hey, Taylor. How are you doing?" He asked gently.

As usual, I stayed silent, and looked the opposite way.

"Alright, bad question. How about this, when's the last time you've eaten?"

To be totally honest, I had no idea. Maybe a week? I know that sounds ridiculous, but I had been drinking plenty of water—it took everything to convince me that water would do me no harm. It wouldn't make me fat. I could even loose some weight from drinking enough.

I stayed silent. I knew Josh knew the answer, he just didn't want it to be real.

"Look Taylor. I know I'm being pretty hypocritical, but it's not good. What you're doing isn't good for you. You're sick."

"I am not sick!" I snapped.

"Then stand up and do a dance for me!" He countered.

Obviously I was too weak. I wouldn't be surprised if I passed out. I didn't want to have an 'I told you so' come out of his mouth, so I just stayed out.

"Exactly. Look Taylor, I'm trying my best, but I'm no professional. There's going to come a time where I won't be here everyday. We need to get you better help—"

"I don't need help Josh! I was perfectly fine till you came along."

I didn't know which way he'd take that, and I wasn't sure which way I meant it.

"What are you going to do about tomorrow then?" He asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. I was hoping maybe he'd just cancel it. He eventually gave up, and left. The tray of food was on the night stand, beckoning me. I rolled over and faced the other way.