18.0 jumping from roof to roof

(◞‸◟)

"idol-star lee minho has died. his body was found in the JYP building's bathroom today and his death has been confirmed just a few minutes later by the-", minho didn't listen to what was playing in the radio, instead he was happily swinging his legs in the back of the police car. the open window let the cold breeze into the car and minho was enjoying the pleasant cooling, a little smile on his face as he saw the trees rush past him.

it's every little boys dream to be in the police car once in his life - though he didn't quite remember getting inside of the car in the first place, and sitting in the backseat.

well, it didn't really matter though, knowing that two policemen sat right in front of him was exciting enough.

"what a coincidence", the driver of the police car said with a shaking head. his tone was low, a little sad maybe, but minho couldn't really tell. "poor boy, my stomach hurts thinking about that we have to tell her".

the man next to him hummed, his leg bounced anxiously while he looked out of the window just like minho did, lost in his mind. "it's awful, really. don't you think she already got a hold of it?".

"the tragic death of lee minho is just one of the few reminders how dangero-", the radio continued to play in the background, getting drowned out by the voices of the policemen again.

"maybe. I don't know", he sighed. "he was so young, too. how old was he? twenty two? twenty three?", they turned left, minhos body getting wrecked to the other side of the car and only now he noticed that he wasn't buckled up. it didn't hurt, though. he didn't feel anything.

"don't know, all I know is that teens, no, idols-", the other policeman clicked his tongue, as if the word 'idol' ticked him off. "- they put themselves through too much shit to be famous. isn't worth it, look what it brought that guy".

"wanted to be an idol, now he is- is", he stammered, eyes still on the road. "dead".

"I'm not dead", minho corrected them, almost absentmindedly, staring at the car they passed. his voice sounded like it wasn't coming from him, like it was coming from outside, too far away that it could come out of minhos mouth. like a ghost.

"did it just get colder in here or is it just me?", the driver asked as they turned into a very, very familiar alleyway.

"I feel it too".

the car came to a stop in front of a big, white house. it looked just like the one next to it, but minho recognised it immediately. his house. his parents house.

without any thought, he opened the door and got out, the two policemen did the same, not even glancing at minho for a second, as if he wasn't even there. minho brushed it off as they walked towards the front door.

everything looked exactly the same. the flowers his mom used to plant in the garden were withered because of the cold, but the grass was still, kind of, green. it probably smelled like winter, but minho didn't smell anything. he couldn't even feel the cold breeze on his pale skin.

before they arrived at the front door, minho caught a glimpse of himself at the window and immediately stumbled back. the person staring back at him wasn't him, his cheeks were so incredibly carved in, that it made him look ten years older, maybe twenty. his hair was thinner than ever, his eyes looked damp and his lips were blue. worst of it all was his body though - all that was left of him was a pale looking, skeleton-like ghost, that was barely able to hold itself up. minho almost yelled at the sight.

a shrill doorbell rang and minhos eyes quickly stopped looking at himself and turned to the two policemen, which waited for somebody to open the door. minho walked up to them, his body felt incredibly light. "what are we doing here?", he asked and before anyone could answer, the front door opened.

his mother looked as beautiful as ever, though she seemed a little tired. her black hair swayed in the wind as she tucked a strand behind her ear, she looked at them with big eyes, opened her mouth, then closed it. "...oh", she whispered and minho almost missed it, it was just a rush of air coming out of her. "oh", she said again, then almost imperceptibly stepped back and suddenly, she looked old and exhausted.

"I'm kim seojun, an investigation officer, am I talking to lee bora?", the driver of the police car was the first one to talk. minhos mother seemed lost, overwhelmed as she nodded. "would you mind if we go inside for a second?".

silence. minhos mother looked away, tears in her eyes and minhos insides twisted. it hurt like a physical cramp.

boras chin wobbled and she took another step back as she answered with a cracking voice. "so it's true? it's really true?".

"what is true?", minho asked, but his voice sounded like it came from above him. he stared at his moms beautiful hair and reached out to touch it, but his fingers slid right through her face, leaving his fingers cold. his mother only scrunched her nose, as if she felt it.

"we-", the officer on the right helplessly looked at the other. "we'd like to tell you about the incident inside".

her response was almost borderline vehement. "you're not fucking serious now, right?", her breath hitched. "right?".

the two men looked at each other, eyes almost as wide as minhos mothers. "let's just- let's go inside".

"he is dead, right?", his mother concluded and in her eyes minho saw nothing but pure pain. minhos eyes instantly filled with tears, though he wasn't quite sure what he was so sad about.

"who is dead?", he asked, but nobody answered. instead, he heard a different voice next to him, a voice much clearer than his own, yet so similar.

"you are", it snarled and minhos head snapped to the side - next to him was his abnormal reflection, staring at him with its dull eyes and a wry, mocking smile. "lee minho is dead".

"I'm not-".

minhos attempt to answer was interrupted by a bone-wracking, heartbreaking scream from his mother, who sank to her knees, not able to catch herself with her hands. her knees scraped open on the rough concrete, but she didn't pay attention to this. instead, another scream left her throat and minho almost fell to the ground himself by seeing his mother crumble apart in front of him.

"my son- my-", bora ran her fingers through her hair as she started to sob. she started to completely break down, messing her hair up while her body shuddered after every heartbreaking scream or sob. minhos father was nowhere to be seen.

"my baby!", she sobbed into her hands and minho suddenly heard a piercing sound behind him, then a cold hand on his shoulder as his reflection climbed out of the window and stopped next to him, staring at his mother just like minho did.

"my baby", bora and minhos reflection cried together, though his reflection seemed to think the situation was quite funny by the way it giggled after every word. "my baby is dead!".

"I'm not dead", minho said again, his voice was still so far away, but minho was still able to hear his throat close as the tears started to dwell up. "I'm right here, mom! right here!".

"my baby!", his mother just continued to scream as she choked on her sobs, hyperventilating. "how, how, HOW!".

"I'm not-", minho tried to answer, but his reflection interrupted him again. its mocking stopped for a moment, it looked at minho, then grinned. "can't hear you", it giggled, almost inhuman, "you're dead. gone.", then it looked at his mother again and screamed the same things she did.

minho was completely out of it by now. he fell to his knees and crawled over to his mom while his tears fell to the ground. he stopped in front of her, reached out to hold her arm, but his hand just slid right through her. yet again, minho felt that same, cold tingling in his fingers.

"mom", he cried out, chest racking sobs leaving his throat as he tried to touch her, failing over and over again. "mom, I'm right here!".

but minhos reflection was right, she couldn't hear him. it was as if minho wasn't even there in the first place, maybe he wasn't. all minho could do was scream and bawl.

"minho?", another voice. much softer, much more calming. minho didn't recognise it.

"my baby!", his mother and his reflection yelled again.

"minho?", such a calming voice. minho pressed his hands onto his ears. "minho?".

"my baby! my son!".

"minho", the voice spoke, so incredibly soothing, dripping with honey and minhos cold, fragile body leaned towards the warm sound. "minho", it repeated, settling in minhos racing mind, so kind, kind, kind.

minho cracked.

minho shattered.

and then he fell back, his back hit the concrete and right before his head could join the ground-

minhos eyes fluttered open.

the harsh light immediately made minho shut his eyes again tightly and as if on command, his head started to throb.

surrounded by pain and the memory of his dream, minho groaned and tried to open his eyes again, this time being met by a very familiar face, which provided shade for minhos eyes by the way he was leaning over him.

"minho...", ah, minho thought as he slowly started to recognise chans features. the voice I heard in my dream.

minho still heard his mothers screaming as he slowly tried to sit up, failing miserably as his arms folded under the pressure of his own weight. chan immediately held his back and helped him lay down comfortably again. "easy, minho, easy".

after that, they both went silent for a while. chans gaze was heavy, he looked at minho as if he couldn't recognise him. it was something minho, kind of, expected. after all, he was laying in a hospital bed for a reason he didn't figure out yet, head throbbing and throat sore. and chan just stared, stared until the questions in minho itched on his throat so much that he had to speak up.

"hi, chan", minho looked at the leader under his lashes and as chan, finally, blinked after what felt like eternity, minho couldn't help but feel intimidated by his stare.

"hi, lino".

"so, uh", minhos voice was rough, "not dead, huh?".

on that, chan quirked an eyebrow. "not dead, indeed", he said as he slowly leaned back, pushing a red button to call for a nurse. then he just looked at minho again.

the nurse arrived slowly after, just checking on minho and telling him that a doctor will explain what happened to him shorty. minho only nodded every few seconds, uncomfortably shifting every now and then under chans hard stare.

minho felt like a terrible person. he must've been.  his face turned red as the nurse did her last check-up-thingy and minho couldn't help but tear up. maybe because he couldn't even blink as he stared at his lap, at least that's what he blamed it on as his fingers started to tremble.

he tried to open his mouth, closed it again, then sighed. before he could even try to stutter out a meaningless, awful apology, chan reached out and put his hand on minhos. only now minho noticed his ice-cold fingers.

"you're not dead", chans voice was firm.

minho swallowed. "hm".

"but you sure as hell were close to it".

minho looked up into chans eyes and despite chans firm features, minhos was able to detect that familiar softness in them. his lips turned into a smile, the bright hospital lights blinded him again as his eyes danced around the room and he slowly understood how severe this situation was. he was in a hospital, apparently only escaped death by a hairs breadth and minhos felt the corners of his mouth wobble. he felt how close he was to crying and, at this point, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to hold it in this time.

"do you...", chan broke the uncomfortable silence after a while. "remember what happened?".

minho thought, thought about the last thing he remembered and then slowly shook his head. chan squeezed his hand in response.

"the doctors said you raptured your esophagus", chan continued and slowly started to move his thumb in circles over minhos hand. "jeongin found you covered in blood and vomit".

silence fell over the room again. minho started to feel the painkillers he was on starting to kick in.

"it's because of all the throwing up you've been doing".

minho only shrugged. he was still tired. a little irritated maybe. confused. sad. scared.

"okay", minho simply answered, wrinkling his nose as he smelled his own vomit, which was still left in his nose. or maybe it wasn't and he just remembered the smell. he couldn't tell. he was so, so tired.

chan let go of his hand and minho felt cold at once. the atmosphere had gotten noticeably heavy again and minho swallowed thickly, immediately wincing from the pain in his throat. chan looked a little alarmed, but he kept quiet.

"do you have anything to say to me?", minho asked. his head hurt.

"I want you to tell me what happened", chans voice was still firm, but for some reason minho couldn't help but soften by hearing it.

"what does it matter?", minho muttered, his voice was wobbly and he bit the insides of his cheek to stop himself from bawling. "you wouldn't get it".

"maybe I would".

"no", minho insisted. "you wouldn't".

a deep sigh sounded from chan and minho quickly turned his head as he felt the first tear fall from his eyes. great. the waterworks broke. no going back now.

"you know, minho", chan said as he reached out again, this time to fix minhos messy blanket. "you've suffered enough. too much. I think it's time that you, at least try, to tell me what has been going on with you".

minho whimpered and another tear dropped down on his shirt. he hated the sound he made, he hated the position he was in. his throat felt tight.

"I can't do it", the defeat was evident in minhos tone. "I don't want to".

chan chuckled and minho turned his head to look at him. maybe he glared a little at chan, but laughing in this situation felt very, very wrong. "sorry", chan seemed to realise what minhos expression wanted to tell. "it's just-", the wry smile on chans face didn't fade. "do you personally enjoy pushing people closest to you away?".

minho watched the clock on the wall tick. a silly crocodile design was printed on it and minho scoffed. "no", he snapped. "I'm not fucking dumb".

and what did the nurse inject him with anyway? he was so fucking tired.

"then tell me what happened".

minho turned his head away again. tears ran down his face like a waterfall by now and minho angrily wiped them away as soon as he felt them. "but I can't!", he cried out. "because I'm fucking crazy for what I've been doing, okay?! I don't even understand how I came to this point, how am I supposed to tell you then, huh?!".

minho wasn't sure why he was suddenly yelling, but he quickly came to realise that it took all the energy he had left inside of him. he slumped, if possible, even further into the hospital bed and let his hands fall into his palms. as he tried to breathe out, the air in his lungs left his mouth in sobs which wrecked his body.

"okay", minho didn't look at chan, but he could tell by his voice that he wasn't smiling anymore. "okay, I get it. if you want me to leave, I will. I can give you some alone time to think if you-".

minho was quick to answer on that. "no!", he splurged out, immediately looking at the leader with puffy, red eyes. he didn't know why exactly, but chan leaving him alone right now was the last thing minho wanted. "stay", he whispered.

and then he laughed. this was so terribly humiliating. minho was in the hospital, feeling himself coming down from the high the hunger had given him for the past few months. it all came crashing down on him at once. his secret was out, he felt terribly exposed and all he could do was cry and hope everybody would just leave him alone.

but minho didn't even want to be alone. he only had to, for the sake of losing weight, but minho never, ever truly wanted to be alone. he felt terrible when he was alone, cold, abandoned and irritated. yeah, it really all came crashing down on him right now.

so he completely broke down. minho sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, burying his hands in his hair as he tried to catch his breath, unsuccessfully. "fuck, no don't go", he sobbed and for the first time in forever, minho didn't lie. he thought, if chan left him alone now, he would shatter like an old plate on the ground. and if somebody came back to put him together after that, he would've been too tired to be.

"I just-", minhos voice was thick with saliva and tears. "what does it even matter".

minho felt a pair of strong arms around him. he was pulled to chans chest and he felt how much bigger, how much more muscular the older was. minho would've liked the feeling of being small yesterday. right now it was terrifying.

"I've been wanting to see you cry", chan whispered into his ear and though it was comforting, minho felt how chans words pierced right through him.

but minho didn't have any energy to fight back his tears, or maybe he just wanted to be taken care of for a second before going back to his usual self hatred. he shakily breathed out and rested his head on chans shoulder before closing his eyes.

"you're warm".

-

minho had to stay in the hospital for quite a while, his esophagus had to get operated, so going back home the next day was in no way possible. the company also insisted on him staying in the hospital until the doctor said he was okay to go. that would probably take a while, minho figured.

seungmin visited him together with jeongin a day after chan had. felix came the next day, then changbin, then felix together with jeongin and so on. minho barely spent any time alone at the hospital and, even though he wouldn't admit it, he was incredibly grateful whenever one of them entered the room. playing stupid board or card games with felix or listening to weird stories by changbin was a lot better than drowning in his own thoughts.

they didn't talk about what happened. none of them opened the topic and minho was okay with that. jeongin was tense at first - minho had to imagine the youngest finding him on the floor, and cringed. but as soon as minho tried to say sorry, jeongin shushed him and placed down the last card of uno, finishing the game with a grin.

only jisung and hyunjin hadn't visited him yet.

it took a week until one of them finally decided to visit.

it was hyunjin.

hyunjin was also the first one to cry.

he entered the room in silence, his eyes scanned the room until he found minho, who froze in his place. the older stayed quiet too, unable to read hyunjins expression until hyunjin came closer and closer to the hospital bed.

they both stayed silent as hyunjin sat down next to minho. they both didn't say a word as hyunjin embraced minho in a tight, much needed hug.

they both cried in silence in each other's arms until all that was left was heavy breathing and a small smile on both of their faces.

it took another few minutes until hyunjin spoke up.

"what is this?", he asked, pointing to a drink that was standing on minhos desk next to the hospital bed.

"chocolate milkshake from yesterday", minhos sniffled as they both finally let go of each other. hyunjin picked it up and gave it to minho, who frowned.

"from yesterday", hyunjin took the straw out of the package and poked it into the lid of the drink. "you should drink it now, then".

minho bit his lip, then shook his head. "I don't feel like it", he lied. hyunjin cocked an eyebrow. he didn't buy minhos lies anymore. nobody did.

"it's just a drink", hyunjin tried to reassure minho, who scoffed in response. if it was just a drink, if it was just a meal, then minho wouldn't be in this situation. was it really this hard to understand?

probably. because nobody did.

"I can't throw it up here, though", minho simply muttered and put the drink back. he avoided to look at hyunjins face after he said that, knowing that what he said sounded absolutely horrible, but in his mind it was right. he ate if he was able to throw it up. he didn't eat it he couldn't. simple as that.

he heard hyunjin sigh and started to fidged with the ends of his blanked. they kept him warm most of the day, as long as he didn't open the window.

"I-", minho bit his lip. "I'm sorry, hyunjin".

he didn't even dare to look up as he continued to talk. "I'm sorry, really. I was being such an asshole to you for the past weeks, there really is no excuse for my behaviour".

next to him, hyunjin tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. minho could only see it from the corner of his eyes, but he could tell how gorgeous hyunjin looked. his stomach churned as his usual, selfish thoughts crept back.

"you're beautiful. and you're a great dancer. and a great singer", he said, picking at the dry skin on his fingers. "and I'm not just saying this because I'm apologising right now, I'm serious. I mean it. you're seriously the best".

"minho, I-", hyunjin sounded slightly dumbfounded. "what are you trying to-".

"and because you're all that, I couldn't help but be incredibly jealous. I know it's stupid. we're both in the same band, we both dance, both sing. we're in the same position but-", minhos shakily exhaled. "you're just so much better than me".

hyunjin quickly shook his head. "no, no minho. nobody is better than anyone".

minho just continued to talk without listening to what hyunjin said. "so, that evening when I said all those stupid things to you, it was just my inner jealously trying to convince me that you're not all that. like, you know, I wanted to take a break from looking at you and feeling like I'm the biggest failure of all time. I didn't mean anything I said, hyunjin. it was stupid to think that making you feel bad would ultimately make me feel better", minho chuckled, humourless. "I'm a little stupid lately".

minho left out the part in which he had a panic attack in the toilet later or how he purged the food he had with hyunjin in the same restaurant they ate it in. he didn't want to make the whole situation even more awkward than it already was.

"I really didn't mean any of it", minho repeated for the last time, voice wavering.

hyunjin was silent for a moment. thinking. "I don't hate you, minho. I don't know if you thought that, but I don't hate you", his voice was suspiciously thick as he spoke, minho knew how hyunjins close-to-crying-again-voice sounded like. "I mean, yeah", hyunjin chuckled drily. "I was mad at you. very mad, actually. but, honestly, I can't hate you, or stay mad at you seeing you like this".

minho couldn't help but snicker. "you pity me".

hyunjin looked at the chocolate shake, picked it up and placed it in minhos hand again.

"no", he whispered as he got up, the clock next to minho showed him that the visiting time was almost over. "I just want you to get better and, to be fair", hyunjin smiled at minho with teary eyes. "I also really don't want you to die".

minho decided to drink the chocolate shake later that evening.

-

"so", minho looked at the woman in front of him sceptically. "you're a therapist?".

the woman, who introduced herself as miss hak earlier, had grey, damp her and a hooked nose, on which she wore simple, black glasses. shooting minho a comforting smile, she sat down, keeping a pleasant distance, and took out her clipboard. "yes, your therapist", she answered. she somehow had a soft, dreamy voice. "precisely".

minho swallowed, fairly uncomfortable from the idea of needing a therapist now. when some managers came to check up on him, they suggested minho to get therapy. he had immediately told them he didn't need it, because he still didn't come to terms with being sick, but they insisted. minho didn't feel like fighting them either, so he agreed after chan told him that him, changbin and jisung had all gone to therapy before and that there was nothing to be ashamed about.

"okay", minho simply answered.

it wasn't like minho was ashamed of getting therapy. there was nothing foreign about celebrities going to therapy anyway, it was just that it was weird that minho had to. he had always been totally fine with dealing with his problems himself - maybe he also had some internalised fear of opening up to anybody at all.

but, he had already learned something in the past two weeks of being in the hospital:

minho really needed a breather.

it wasn't like the anxiety and overwhelming fear of gaining weight left his side as soon as he entered the hospital, but he finally came to notice how worn out he actually was.

his back hurt, his throat hurt, his legs hurt and his bones hurt. and on top of it all, he was mentally exhausted to the core. if he didn't talk to the other members or distracted himself with netflix or some other stupid phone game, minho found himself breaking down over the tiniest things. he cried when a movie ended, he cried when the sun set, he cried when his hair poked his eyes and he cried when the machines were too loud. minho was so overwhelmed. and he was so sick of it.

"you're here because you purged until you raptured your esophagus", miss hak skipped through the many pages on her clipboard. "and you ate cotton balls - am I reading this correctly?".

miss hak eyed minho from under her glasses and minho quickly avoided her stare. with a hesitant tone, he answered a low, "yes".

"how come?", was her next question.

"how come, what?", minho snorted. "how come I came to this point?".

his therapist nodded, pen ready in her hand to write whatever next left minhos mouth down.

"I can't just pinpoint what exactly started all this", minho muttered in response, thinking back to before he spiralled downward. he thought back to when he would comfortably eat sweet popcorn together with the others or sit at the table and have fun without excusing himself to throw up as soon as he took the last bite.

so, as he thought and thought, a familiar, terrifying face managed to push itself into minhos inner eyes and minho immediately felt himself tense up.

"I guess it started at a weight in", he started, still unsure if that was even right. "a woman who always weights us humiliated me in front of everybody that day and put me on a strict diet. then all the working out with this mean trainer started and I just kind of", minho nervously waved his hands around in the air, trying to find the right words. "I just wanted to make the people that worked with me proud".

"proud or less hurtful towards you?", his therapist asked as she wrote down something minho couldn't read on her clipboard and minho felt something in his chest loosen up a little. she might just hit the spot.

"maybe both. I just didn't want to drag the group down anymore".

had it always been this cold in this room? minho started to shiver.

"how did you bring down your group, minho?".

"I mean, who would want to watch someone so fat and ugly dance on stage? I embarrassed myself and my group just by being there. I just wanted to fit in", minho concluded and for the first time, he felt like this type of thought maybe wasn't exactly true. there was something else that was bothering him.

"and you thought you would fit in if you were dangerously underweight?", his therapist clicked her pen, one eyebrow cocked as she tried to catch minhos eyes with her own. minho wouldn't let her.

"all the beautiful idols are skinny".

"sounds pretty shallow to me", her voice was monotone, but minho felt, even so slightly, like she was attacking him. he scoffed.

"the industry is shallow", was all he had to answer on that.

she wrote down another few words before fixing her glasses and looking up again. this time she caught minhos eyes and minho felt a little bit to trapped to look away.

"do you think your worth is entirely based on how you look?".

minho didn't break the eye contact, but her question made him blink several times before he swallowed down a big clump of anxiety.

it was weird. he really couldn't answer.

they talked for a little bit more than an hour and minho came to a strange realisation.

there was someone that understood. and there was someone that, at least tried, to help him. he was sure that, just because he told someone his deepest thoughts for the first time in seemingly forever, there was no way that this could've instantly helped him.

but still, for the first time in months, minho felt his heartbeat slow. the days we're getting darker day by day, but minho suddenly seemed to not want to drown in the darkness anymore. it wasn't a strong feeling first, just a little tug on his skin, but for the first time since this dilemma started, there seemed to be a different voice nesting in minhos head.

I'm so sick of being sick, it said as it placed its first stick in minhos head to start building its nest. I've suffered enough.

-

a few weeks later, minho found himself standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom again. he had come home a few hours ago, anxiously avoiding any mirrors until he couldn't take it anymore. he tippy toed into the bathroom, locked himself inside and looked at himself.

he had gained weight. he wasn't sure how much, but he must've gained, considering that the hospital was tube feeding him for the past weeks.

his hips and ribs were still visible, but definitely not as much as before and minho suddenly felt a clump start to form in his throat as he turned around and looked at the scale.

he could weight himself again. he could still fix this. he could lose this weight again without throwing up and just not eating instead. he could-

minho heard a knock. then another.

"yeah?".

"um, it's me".

yikes.

jisung.

minho felt his heartbeat fasten.

"can we talk?".

jisung hadn't visited in the hospital. all the weeks minho spent in the building, jisung hadn't shown up once. minho might have expected hyunjin to do that, but jisung? minho didn't get it.

they both sat in minhos room. minho sat on his bed, jisung on his chair. for a moment, minho thought back to the moment jisung had found his diary and bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from tearing up. they both avoided each others gaze.

"how are you feeling?", jisung broke the silence.

minho only shrugged. "just got released from the hospital and I already see how fat I've gotten", minho snapped, unintentionally. "but otherwise fine, I guess. and you?".

minho could practically feel the tension in the room.

"I feel ashamed, guilty and like the biggest asshole alive", jisung answered, as if he just said the most normal thing on earth. "and like the worst friend ever".

minho stayed quiet. as jisung understood that minho wasn't going to reply to him like that, he continued.

"do you hate me?".

do you hate me?

you didn't visit me once. you knew what was going on, but you didn't do anything. you read my diary and only then understood what was going on with me. you didn't talk to me. I missed you. a lot.

"no", minhos hummed, truthfully. "I don't hate you".

because just like hyunjin couldn't hate him, minho couldn't hate jisung. it wasn't jisungs fault minho was so terribly fucked up. he couldn't blame him for not noticing sooner, could he?

"you're a good actor", jisung stated and minho chuckled a little as he lifted his head, only to notice that jisung was already looking at him.

they locked eyes and minho almost reflexively slumped down.

"why didn't you visit me?", minho blurted out the question that had been torturing him for weeks. "why didn't you say anything? or call me? leave a message?".

on that, jisungs eyes filled with tears. none of them dropped as he started to talk, slowly, steadily and as if he studied his lines.

"I thought you hated me. I thought you would never want to see me again after how I didn't tell anyone what was going on with you even after I read your diary", jisung stopped for a moment, looking at the book on the table, which only had blank pages now. "I'm sorry again. I just didn't know how else to address your weight loss".

minho opened his mouth, a little baffled. "what?".

"what? you thought I didn't notice how you kept losing more and more weight? you looked sick, minho", jisungs eyes travelled over minhos body. "not trying to be rude, but you still do".

minho smiled weakly. "that's honestly all I wanted to hear".

"what?".

"that I look sick".

jisung furrowed his brows as he tried to read minhos mind. failing.

"you wouldn't understand but well-", minho tried not to trail off. "I didn't exactly want to hear, ay-yo, minho, you look ill", they both chuckled at the absurd thought. "but I wanted to hear how skinny I've gotten. that I could stop now. because I can't see it myself".

minho anxiously rubbed over the slowly healing skin on his finger. he hadn't thrown up in six weeks. inside, it felt more peaceful than ever. minho couldn't even describe how much less stress he had been feeling lately.

"in my eyes, I still look like that chubby boy from months ago".

at that, jisung almost jumped to his feet. "huh?!", his voice was shrill, high and full of confusion. "chubby?!".

"y-yeah", minho stuttered, confused over jisungs sudden outburst. "the weight-in woman said it. in front of all of you. you probably don't even remember".

as if a light suddenly turned on in jisungs head, his eyes widened, then narrowed and minho had to bite the inside of his cheek again, this time to not laugh at how adorably weird the younger looked.

"this fucking bitch", jisung hissed and minho couldn't help but laugh. a real, genuine laugh this time.

"yeah, what a bitch", minho agreed, and though it was just in his subconsciousness, he felt a little weight drop from his shoulders as those words left his mouth.

"minho", jisung said, voice soft and carefully. "your body has never been the problem".

they locked eyes again. minho suddenly had another question.

"why didn't you tell chan? or the manager? anyone, actually?".

jisungs ears turned a little pink, his eyes stayed focused on the other hand.

"I really thought you weren't that low yet. and once I came to the realisation that you, in fact, were, I thought I was already to late".

"oh", minho only breathed out.

"to be fair, you also pushed all of us away whenever we tried to talk to you".

minho smiled, a little exposed. jisung chuckled. a comfortable silence settled between them. the tension in the room slowly disappeared into thin air.

"jisung-ah", minho called out as the first raindrop hit the window. "do you know why people with eating disorders die from it?".

jisung seemed a little taken aback as he straightened his back. his answer was almost immediate. "because they want to be pretty so bad that they don't care if they die from it".

minho was able to think a lot during the past weeks. not only did his therapist leave him some questions to think about, but all the time he spent alone with himself, made him look over the past few months until he came to a conclusion that scared him a little.

"no", minho shook his head, earning a confusing look from jisung in return. "it's because people with eating disorders become ignorant and delusional".

as jisungs face turned even more clueless than he was before, minho continued.

"you think you're different. I mean, yeah okay, I threw up thrice today, but at least I eat over a thousand calories on the weekends. and sure, I binge, but I only do it until my stomach nearly bursts, not until I only have to lean forward to throw up. I'm not like them!", minhos voice unintentionally got louder.

"you're not like them, you think, and then you die. then you're just another statistic about how fatal eating disorders are".

minho breathed out, a tear ran down jisungs cheek and landed on his hoodie.

"do you want a hug?", jisung asked.

jisung got up, walked over to minho and wiped his tear away with his thumb.

"yeah".

later that night, minhos thumb carelessly swiped over his phone. jisung had left his room about an hour later to go to his schedules. minho just waisted his time scrolling through social media until his phone started ringing.

"hello?".

minho quickly lowered his phone and looked at the caller ID.

his mom.

"h-hi mom!", he answered, maybe a little too excitedly. "how are you?".

his mom on the other side of the phone chuckled. minhos eyes filled with tears. her voice reminded minho of his dream, unintentionally, but he couldn't help it.

"I'm great!", his mother said. "how about you, sweetie?".

minho shook his head and sniffled, then realised that his mother couldn't see him through the phone. he listened to the sound of the raindrops hitting the window and breathed in.

"honestly", the constant grip around his lungs for the past months slowly loosened as he heard his mom breathing through the phone. "I'm not doing so well lately".

-

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hi!

this is the second to last chapter of this book (:

first of all, to everyone that has been reading this book, thank you for still reading it lol.

so yeah

because this is the second to last chapter and I want to answer some questions in the very last chapter before I write down my autors note, this is the place you can ask!

idk if you guys even want to know anything, but Id love to answer any questions you have to the characters, book, moments or me ! I'll include the questions ( from wattpad and ao3) in the very last chapter.

so if you have any, please ask and I'll answer all your questions next time.

with that, I hope you're excited for the 'finale' (lol) and I hope to see you next time <3