(◞‸◟)
Bulimia nervosa, commonly called bulimia, is a serious, potentially life-threatening eating disorder. People with bulimia may secretly binge — eating large amounts of food with a loss of control over the eating — and then purge, trying to get rid of the extra calories in an unhealthy way.
an eating disorder?
no way.
minho sighed wearily and laid the phone in his hand next to the toilet, his eyes were filled with water and stung as he got up to wash his hands, which were still covered in puke.
the water splashed on his hands and not shortly after over his face to wash the vomit off of it, too. while the cold water splashed over his face, minhos mind was unusually blank. something shifted, at least that's how it felt like.
this was his third time making himself throw up. but... this for sure wasn't an eating disorder. he was just like any other idol that wanted to be pretty, that wanted to be perfect. he was okay, he wasn't sick.
because idols weren't supposed to be sick.
he lifted his head and looked into the mirror in front of him once again. the comeback was tomorrow and he still fucked up, despite knowing he would be on stage very soon. he still ate all the bread that was left, two packages of ramen and a few chocolate bars. of course he needed to get rid of it, considering that he would stand in front of so many people so soon, right?
the familiar feeling started to creep up in him as he continued to stare at himself in the mirror. it wasn't sadness or anxiety this time, it was this constant uncomfortable feeling of being himself, of being in his own skin and having no way to change it, or get it out of it. it was the unbearable feeling of looking like that, with his chubby cheeks and his soft tummy.
as he finally stopped the water and turned around to leave the bathroom again, he felt his knees wobble a bit and quickly reached out to grab the door handle to steady himself. his fingers felt unusually cold, considering that it was midsummer. his feet were awfully cold too, but his forehead was sweaty, yet he was shivering.
minho slowly started to become tired. not quite literally sleepy, he just started to get exhausted from all this.
losing weight so quickly for the comeback was hard, trying to impress the trainer was hard, wanting to fit the standard was hard but the hardest thing was still, after all that effort, after all those nights he went to bed hungry, even after throwing up...
minho still didn't see a difference.
minho was so goddamn tired. he thrived for validation, but posting even more pictures of himself on instagram and reading all the comments wasn't enough. leaving bubble messages for his fans and getting so much love from them wasn't enough. or maybe it just wasn't right. his fans telling him that he had lost weight, that they were worried, might've felt validating for a few moments, but it was too hard to believe when he couldn't even see it himself. he just wanted someone who saw him everyday, someone who actually knew him, to tell him that he had lost weight.
that he could stop now.
"minho?", the voice of his leader made minho freeze. his hands quickly let go of the door handle and he stumbled back a bit, accidentally hitting the shower door with his back.
it was quiet for a moment before the same voice was heard again, this time slightly softer. "are you in there?".
minho felt his heartbeat quicken and released a shaky breath. what if chan heard him throw up? what if he found out? shit, he was totally fucked.
"yeah?", minho simply managed to answer, still stuck in his tracks, his thoughts going haywire now. he knows. he found out, he knows and he is going to confront me about it.
"uhh, I really need to pee and you've been in there for a while so I wanted to ask how long it's gonna take", chan chuckled a little and minhos chest automatically stopped clenching together as if he couldn't breathe.
oh
chan didn't hear him.
thank god.
just as fast as his heart almost jumped out of his chest just a few seconds ago, minho quickly caught his breath again, swallowing down the last pieces of anxiety and finally answering with a hurried; "I'll be out in a second!".
back in his room, minho looked through his phone one last time. the comeback was tomorrow, just a few hours from now and minho had never felt worse about himself.
his thighs were uncomfortably big in his sweats and he was practically able to feel them rub together when he walked. how was he supposed to go on stage tomorrow? that was a one way ticket to become the embarrassment of the whole group.
"I don't want to", minho quietly whispered to himself and a single tear finally escaped his eyes. he roughly wiped his face with his fist but quickly stopped, too scared to activate redness or soreness and look even worse tomorrow.
minho inhaled and bit his lip, trying to hold back a sob that had been trying to escape for the longest now. "I don't want to", he repeated and his voice wobbled almost imperceptibly.
its good that chan didn't notice, he had told himself after coming out of the bathroom, but deep, deep inside him minho knew that he wished chan had noticed it.
—
minhos lip trembled a little as the makeup artist did the final touches on his face. for the past few hours in the dressing room he had been fighting down the urge to cry, trying to swallow down every last piece of fear and anxiety that tried to reach the top of his throat.
but now, 15 minutes before the comeback stage, it was like every single weight was on minhos shoulders. he recalled the last few weeks - the weight in, the trainer, the dance practice, the panic attacks, the vomiting... it all went through his head like a rush and didn't let him breathe regularly.
he just wanted to sink into the ground.
you big baby, minho scolded himself as he looked at himself in the mirror. his eyelids were covered in pretty, glittery eyeshadow and his lips had a faint red tint. you don't even look that bad today.
behind him was hyunjin, being just as touchy as he always was, with his hands wrapped around minhos shoulders. minho looked at his face through the reflection of the mirror and felt another wave of an oh-so-known feeling:
jealousy.
hyunjins hug was probably supposed to be comforting - but considering how he had felt about the other lately (though he knew it was wrong, he knew he shouldn't) and how he felt about himself lately (which was even worse), the hug was just comfortable, not comforting. it wasn't enough to make minho feel ready for the comeback, at least.
"excited?", hyunjin asked with a smile on his face that immediately told minho that hyunjin was so ready to be on stage again. it was almost funny how big the difference between both of them was.
before minho answered, he plastered his usual smile on his face. this time however, it looked weird, as if it didn't belong to him - as if his face wasn't his. he started to wonder if he would even be able to recognise himself on stage later.
"I have butterflies in my stomach", minho finally decided to answer and hyunjin quickly laughed because of the silly answer.
it wasn't even a lie. the only difference was that the butterflies weren't portraying the feeling of excitement but more the feelings of dread and nervousness. it was similar to the feelings he had back then in the survival show, always afraid of being eliminated if he wasn't good enough. the only difference now was that he genuinely wasn't good enough and more scared of being ugly on stage than being eliminated.
oh god, I'm dragging the whole group down.
"ready on stage in five minutes!", the staffs voice made minhos stomach drop once and for all. with all that terror stuck in his throat, he had the feeling he needed to throw up.
he definitely didn't want to go on stage.
but time didn't care about that. those five minutes went by in a rush and minho found himself standing on the pedal, which was about to go up and throw him onto the stage as if he was an animal about to be sold.
like a pig, his silly brain whispered and minho couldn't help but chuckle.
the pedal jerked under minhos feet and finally started to go up. despite his feet being firmly stuck to the ground, minho felt how weak his knees were. there were only a few seconds left now, only a few seconds until-
the flashing lights and screams dulled his senses first. then a camera zoomed by his nose, way too close for his comfort, and it finally shook him back into reality. he was on stage.
in front of him were hundreds, no thousands of fans, cheering with such a loud voice that it would've hurt his ears if he didn't wear the ear-ins.
his breathing hitched for a second, his heartbeat quickened and minho was practically able to feel the adrenaline rush into his veins. the fear was almost too much too handle, almost numbing and minho quickly noticed that he was frozen in his spot, paralysed by the pure terror of fans, lights, screams and cameras.
but before he realised what was happening, before the rising panic attack in his chest was finally able to burst out, the music started and there was only one thought in minhos head;
be an idol.
so his body started moving to the song, the choreography that was chiselled into his brain was smoothly flowing off his bones and for a moment minhos mind was quiet.
all the terror and anxiety, all the fear of the comeback was suddenly washed away and minho danced on stage as if the last few weeks didn't even happen.
be an idol.
the lights were still too bright for him, he felt the cameras following him and the tiny voice inside of him yelled at him, told him that they were recording all his flaws but at this very moment minho was able to push those thoughts aside.
be an idol.
his voice was just as stable as he watched it to be. the words rolled off his tongue like butter and for the first time in a while there was another feeling in his chest.
be an idol.
minho felt free. genuinely free. he didn't know if it was because his rational mind was still paralysed, but it felt so, so freeing to finally dance and not see himself in the mirror in front of him. it was ecstatic to feel his body move just how he wanted it to, it was thrilling to hear his voice sound just like it did in the recordings.
be an idol.
for the first time in a while, minho felt like he was okay. not good enough maybe, but still okay. maybe, just maybe, even the slightest bit of pride sneaked into him and he shot the cameraman a slick smile, earning a loud range of cheers right after. maybe all this wasn't so bad. maybe being part of stray kids was okay after all.
be an idol.
the music ended and minho was completely out of breath. his eyes flicked around the crowd and he saw thousands of different people, smiling and cheering just as much as they did when he entered the stage. this time however, it felt different and minho closed his eyes.
he was able to believe that they cheered not just for the other members of stray kids, but for him too.
an euphoric rush came over him. for the first time all the worries were pushed far back into minhos brain and it felt so incredibly freeing to be free. minho would've jumped into the air if he still had any in his lungs.
minhos eyes fluttered open and the blinding lights rushed past him again. at last, at very last he felt relief.
numb. blissful. relief.
-
he was supposed to be exhausted. he was supposed to be sleeping by now, like every other member at 4 am.
minho didnt mean to do it. he hadn't even noticed it at all, but by the time he caught himself reading every single comment on every single platform possible, minho realised he had stayed up all night.
it wasn't on purpose. it started with minho actually trying to sleep, but after today's rollercoaster of feelings, minhos mind was restless and he just couldn't bring himself to sleep.
with all his strength he tried to hold onto that feeling he got on stage. he tried to remember it, grasp onto it with dear life, but somehow his thoughts spiralled down into the path of negativity again and his mind started playing tricks with him, as always.
recently he started to think about meaningless things like the meaning of life, or what waits for him after death. his mind dwelled on negative thoughts like that and he knew it was stupid, because nobody knew, but they still pressed themselves back into his skull and were there at night, when he didn't have anyone else to distract him when he was conscious.
he snickered in spite to himself, knowing that thoughts like this only ended up ruining the only calm part of the "day" for him. so he ended up going on instagram, then youtube and twitter and before he could stop it, the countless comments on all websites had emerged minhos consciousness completely.
most of them were positive, of course. fans all over the world still cheered for them and minho found himself a bit at ease after all this. he had been worried for nothing,
right?
almost automatic, his fingers swiped over the screen and minho, even though he felt his chest tighten again, typed a few words into the search bar on twitter.
he had been curious (or scared) of it all day.
lee minho fat.
the timeline was full of pictures and videos of him and minho shut off his phone for a second before quickly turning it on again, not quite sure what to think.
the comments weren't mean. they were talking about his ass, mostly, or were using the word fat in a context that wasn't even related to him.
but the way he looked on the videos made minhos stomach turn upside down.
he was wrong. the stage didn't go well. he looked absolutely huge on video. the leather pants made his legs look even thicker and now he understood why people talked about his ass like that. they probably weren't complimenting him, they couldn't be.
how embarrassing. it was so embarrassing. and the part of him smiling? absolutely horrible. minho just wanted to go back in time and stop himself from going on stage, stop himself from eating so much and maybe, just maybe stop himself from becoming an idol at all.
at least he was right about one thing;
he sure as hell couldn't recognise himself.
just as the clock hit 5 am, minho found himself in the bathroom again, looking at himself and picking on every single flaw he saw in the mirror - like he always did.
it started to become a ritual. standing there, picking at his skin, no, his fat, and deciding which parts he wanted to change.
deep down he knew it was ridiculous. he couldn't change parts of his body completely, or actually even get rid of them, but the little softness over his underwear tells him different and he couldn't help but fantasise, dream about how much better he would look without it.
it's horrible. staring at himself and counting every single thing that was wrong with him felt horrible, but he did it anyway.
fat. this word always came first. mean, ugly, huge, stupid, unlovable - they repeated in his head over and over again until his lips finally started forming the words to make them feel even more real.
"I hate you", he finally managed to tell his reflection, but it sounded hesitant at first until he said it again. "I hate you".
"fuck you", he finally spat at himself, his brows furrowed and his look is more furious than pouting this time. "fuck you, lee minho".
★彡
omg hi guys, I have made an epic comeback.
sorry, I kinda had a mini hiatus cuz my boyfriend broke up with me and I am kinda balls deep into my ed right now lmao but aye this was very fun to write and I hope you're enjoying it xo