EAT.

THREE

Trigger warnings: Mentions of weight

The mirror isn't being honest.

Andy stares at his naked reflection, still damp from the shower, boring his eyes into his torso, where, still, he lacks any real definition. It's not like he's not fit and he knows this, any yet he doesn't understand. He's been at the gym everyday for three weeks, sometimes working himself so much that he feels he might be sick, and yet the mirror still rudely insists that it's not enough, that he should try harder, stay longer, be better. He shakes his head and closes his eyes. Maybe it's his diet - if he ate less carbs, more vegetables, he'd look as they want him to, as he needs to. He shakes his head again before turning and picking up his clothes from the closed toilet seat to put in the laundry basket. Yes, he'll start watching what he eats, being cautious about how much he consumes, that he's not ruining his work at the gym by over-consuming, not that he eats a great amount as it is.

It's early, just gone six am, and he's due in rehearsal at seven. He dresses in his bedroom before going down to make a coffee, pondering over what to have for breakfast, opening and closing the fridge multiple times before deciding on scrambled egg. While he's stirring the egg in the frying pan, he goes over what they're doing today in his head. They didn't get as much done last week as he hoped they would - they spent too long on perfecting the transitions between songs and consequently didn't have time for everything else they desperately need to do. Andy would never admit it and probably doesn't even realise it, but the main reason why they're so far behind is because of him, though none of the other band members dare to say that out-loud, especially not when he's as stressed as he is.

While eating his breakfast, Andy scrolls through Instagram on his phone mindlessly, savouring the quiet moments before the storm that is rehearsal. He sighs when his phone rings with their manager's contact, groaning before answering. "Have you sorted London?" He asks. 

"Sorry to bother you, Andy, but we have a problem." 

"Other than the London problem?" 

"Yes, other than London." 

"Oh, for fuck's sake." He puts his head on the table. "What is it?" 

"We have the same problem with Manchester, Dublin, and Birmingham." 

Andy groans again. "So basically the whole of the UK is going to shit," he mumbles. "Right, well I'm going to the studio at seven for rehearsal, be there and we'll fix this." 

"Of course, see you there. Your usual studio?" 

"Yes. Don't be late. I've got so much shit to do. Good bye." He hangs up and sighs loudly. As if there isn't enough to deal with already. Andy washes his plate and leaves it on the drying rack, collecting his phone and keys before leaving, planning on stopping to fill his car up with fuel on the way. He recalls his evening as he locks the door and heads for the car - he had been tagged in post after post by just two fan accounts. Each post was the same. Begging him to bring back 'Andy Sixx', that they 'miss the old Black Veil Brides'. When he saw it, his initial reaction was to take it as a compliment. They enjoy the way he used to do his makeup. They think he looked good those years ago. But after a moments thought, he realised it perhaps wasn't a compliment as much as it was an insult. They miss what he used to look like because he looked better back then, with all the makeup to accentuate his features and such. He also had the reoccurring nag in the back of his mind that they liked him better when he was in his early twenties because he was skinny then, and everyone likes a skinny front-man. Makes them seem more aesthetic, or something. Whatever the reason, he should definitely look back on old images and aspire to be that weight. 

The petrol station is busy and there are queues for all the pumps. Andy sits in his car tapping the steering wheel impatiently while he waits. How did he have that body when he was younger? He racks his brain for memory of his diet. It consisted mostly of alcohol, cigarettes. Probably not the healthiest choices he ever made, but if it worked...

No. Andy shakes his head. There would be no use in reverting back to such unhealthy habits. It was the alcohol and the cigarettes that damaged his voice in the past, after all. Doing that again could cost him his career, and then what would he do? 

The car before him pulls out finally. He stops beside the pump and gets out. No, he has to be healthy. No cigarettes, definitely no alcohol. But is vaping healthy? And if he only ate 'healthy' foods, wouldn't he start craving the 'unhealthy' ones? Or does he have enough will power to get past that? Yes, surely. He is a grown man, for God's sake! He can look at a cake without needing to cut a slice, can turn down a cookie that's offered and can order the salad in a restaurant. It's not that hard. If it was, no one would do it, and he knows of plenty of people who do it.