The Dilemma - Fransykes

3. Soup

People stood idly by, anxiously waiting for the bus in the subway.

Two men stood there, beside the other, unknowing of everything that would happen between them.

Oliver stared straight ahead, a dead look in his eyes. He hadn't bothered fixing up his look. It was plain to everyone he was either a drug addict or insane.

The bus was heard roaring closer. He was right in front, easily he could jump in front. It wasn't a terrible option, but not there. Just make it through the day, right? That was his motto. Just get through today. Day by day. Although that's easier said than done.

The bus came, stopping Oli's chance at an unexpected public death. He boarded, the shorter blue eyed man following behind him.

He hadn't even acknowledged the man's prescence until he sat beside him. Taking a closer look, the boy had slight bags under his eyes, and he seemingly tried to put a nuetral, I'm okay, act, but it was clear something was up. His lip quivered suddenly, so he bit it roughly.

Oliver frowned. The poor guy. Whatever was going on, Oli wanted to help. It wasn't like him. He gave no shits about anyone or anything and resumed his day. The only thing he cared about was the high of drugs and forgetting what he was.

"Hey, you alright?" Oli asked the man softly before he could second guess it.

The man jumped, looking at Oliver. "U-Uhm, yeah." He flashed a smile, but Oli recognized it all too well.

"You sure?" Oli pressed.

"Yes!" The man hissed, his glare soon softening. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm just- I'm fine, really."

Oliver nodded, pulling out a pen and his notebook he wrote in occasionally. The majority of it was nonesense, really. A mix of poems and lyrics, him expressing everything the only way he could.

He wrote his number down and tore the page out, handing it to the man. "If you uh, ever wanna talk, here."

The man, hesitant, took the number with a blush creeping on his face. "T-Thank you," he mumbled shyly. Oli nodded, smiling softly. The man looked away, covering his face with his oversized sleeves. Oliver swore he saw a giddy smile on the man's face. Before he could allow himself to call it cute though, he was digging into his palm to quiet his thoughts.

You're not gay. That's a sin - that's terrible.

He wasn't even religious, yet it got to him. That it was a 'sin' in the eyes of a large group of people. That he was supposedly going to hell for liking the same gender as himself, that he was disgusting.

Because really, he agreed.

He was a fuckup. Look at his life, himself. He fucked it all up, because he wanted to feel numb.

The bus stopped, Oliver got off and walked into McDonalds, beginning to take orders.

~_~_~_~

"I'm hungry!" Dan whined. "Make me food!" He stomped his foot.

"You're such a baby," Josh groaned. "Spaghetti or soup?"

"Soup! Chicken noodle soup!" Dan cheered excitedly, clapping his hands.

"Okay." Josh shrugged and began cooking the soup over the stove. He set a bowl on the table while he waited.

"Aren't you going to have some?" Dan asked curiously.

"Not hungry," Josh answered with a shrug.

"You haven't been hungry all week." Dan was getting suspicious, slowly picking up on the increasing habits of his friend.

"I have been, actually. Just not when you're around."

"Eat," Dan ordered. "Otherwise I won't!" He crossed his arms, pouting.

"Dan, I just said I'm not hungry." Josh tried to hide the defeated, terrified look in his eyes, but he did not want to eat.

"Please? I'm worried about you, Joshie. Evee since you got home from that date you've been off," Dan pointed out with a sigh.

"If I eat half this soup will you get off my ass about something that isn't happening?"

Dan nodded eagerly, going back to his giddy attitude. "Let's eat!"

And so they did. Josh ate the soup with Dan, cleaning the dishes quickly after and going to the bathroom saying he would take a shower.

He turned on the sink and locked the door, sitting in front of the toilet. He'd looked up how to make yourself throw up, but as he stuck two fingers down his throat all he could do was choke out spit and snot.

"Come on, please," Josh whined as he fought back tears. It was already there, overwhelming, the feeling of the soup he'd eaten. Pulling his stomach down, making him fat.

Can't even throw up right, wow.

So he didn't throw up that night. He flushed the toilet, washed his mouth, turned off the sink, and sat in a ball against the wall.

So he ate that day, but he'd do better tomorrow. He'd tell Dan he had dinner with his sister when he'd go out and get more laxatives. He wouldn't eat the rest of the day. He'd be out of the house as much as he could, so Dan wouldn't notice he wasn't eating. He'd go for runs, he'd lose weight.

Josh wouldn't do it forever. He just wanted to be skinnier. It was all under control.

~_~_~_~

a little shorter but hey! they met, thats progress

honestly tho throwing up is so hard. how- i havent thrown up in three years when i ate chili while sick with like the flu or something
it was fucking hell

anywhore
here u go
i gotta go socialize

but yo my eyeshadow was pretty damn good if i do say so myself i like the colors i blended together huenue