And He Was.

It wasn't similar to how it was always portrayed in movies and TV and media. It wasn't anything like when people see those gorgeous models and tell themselves and others that they aren't healthy, it's not worth it to drool over them. Maybe that's why Dan found it so hard to tell people about his anorexia. As much as he hoped it would be pretty boys kissing your scars and body and telling you you're beautiful and helping you eat, he knew that wasn't the truth. He knew it'd be gross and disgusting and he'd be in large sweaters to hide how thin he'd gotten but he wouldn't be able to stop himself because its not like that and it's just not that simple. He didn't think it'd get this far, he didn't want it to. Dan just wanted a flat stomach. He didn't like his pudgy stomach or huge thighs that made him have to buy skinny jeans in the next size up because skinny jeans would hide his thighs better but they wouldn't even fit inside of the disguise. It started small, cutting down his lunch. He didn't want people to know, being insecure about your body was such a feminine thing and embarrassing. He figured lunch isn't too important and nobody would notice if he only had an apple or a small snack for lunch or didn't eat anything at all. A few months past, nobody noticed, and Dan didn't know how he felt about that. He didn't want people to know he'd cut down for that flat stomach but he also wanted to be told he looked good with the stomach, that he had now noticed wasn't really flat enough yet but that wasn't an issue that he couldn't fix, and even somewhere at the back of his mind was the small itch wanting people to notice so he could get help because it wasn't going to be this small for long. He told himself it was healthy and perfectly fine and normal for a grown man to diet but soon after he realized it wasn't healthy or okay when he lied to his flatmate about what he'd eaten that day. He'd had breakfast, a small bowl of cereal, he had lunch, a granola bar, and dinner slipped his mind, but it was fine. He was editing a new video anyway and there'd been times he didn't have dinner because he was editing. This time was different to Phil and he couldn't guess what it was but he knew something was wrong and he was wondering if he should be worried for his best friend. So he asked Dan if he was hungry.

Dan of course said no.

Phil then asked him what he had eaten that day. Dan considered it, telling the truth and that he'd only snacked a few times because he couldn't help it and he was slowly falling and could tell this wasn't a diet but was in fact an eating disorder and he was scared of becoming those bony people you hear about. Before he had a chance to think, he lied. He told Phil he had eaten a good, healthy lunch and breakfast and a lighter one for dinner, as he wasn't as hungry. Phil seemed content, but still slightly worried. Dan sighed in relief when he let it go.

It wasn't a week later when Dan found himself breaking down for the dumbest reason. This was the moment he'd realized an eating disorder can't be stereotyped and isn't what you'd normally think it is. He stepped on the scale. He really shouldn't have, but now he was breaking down at the number that stare up at him for the most un-stereotypically anorexic reason ever. The number was too low. It wasn't like he didn't like or want the low number, but it made Dan realize that he had a problem when the number made him a bit happy for a split second. So here he was. Sitting in the bathroom with the scale as far away from him as he could have pushed it, leaning against the wall he had slid down and with his knees brought to his chest. Tears streamed down his face.

And that's when he heard the door to the flat unlock.

He tried to stop crying, but he couldn't. He quickly hurried to put the scale away so Phil wouldn't find that at least, even though a part of him wanted to leave it out so Phil could realize and help him. Dan heard his name called out and he froze. He called back that he was in the bathroom, his voice a little too shaky for his liking but he didn't think Phil noticed. He slowly got up off the floor and looked in the mirror. He had managed to stop crying at least, but his eyes were still red and if he made eye contact Phil would know something was wrong. He sighed and flushed the toilet before opening the door to rush to the safety of his bedroom, which was only a short path away. He didnt make it though, he ran into Phil on the way.

"Oh, there you are," Phil smiled, hoping he was imagining Dan avoiding eye contact, "The cereal was on sa- Dan? Were you crying? What's wrong!?" Phil put a gentle hand on Dan's chin and tilted it upwards to look in his eyes as he saw Dan's red eyes. Dan finally looked into Phil's eyes and Phil saw how lost he looked. He didn't know what to do, how to react, so he pulled him in for a hug, holding him tight and feeling how thin Dan was. His mind raced, slowly remembering every time Dan said something about not being hungry or too tired or busy to eat. Phil squeezed Dan, as Dan let out a sob, wrapping his arms around Phil, feeling small and hopeless.

"I've got you, Bear, you'll be okay."

And he was.