ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ-ᴜᴘ! (Finished)

⟟⋏⌇⟒⍀⏁ ☊⍀⟒⏃⏁⟟⎐⟒ ☊⊑⏃⌿⏁⟒⍀ ⏁⟟⏁⌰⟒ ⊑⟒⍀⟒

⟟⎎ ⊬⍜⎍ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⏃ ⎎⍀⟟⟒⋏⎅ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⎅⍜⟒⌇⋏'⏁ ☍⋏⍜⍙ ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀, ⌿⍀⟒⏁⟒⋏⎅ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⟟⏁⌰⟒ ⟟⌇ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏚⟒⌇⏁ ⏁⟟⏁⌰⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⎍⋏⟟⎐⟒⍀⌇⟒

So the titles of the future will be in ender because I just like how it looks. Currently I'm using a translator, but I plan on learning it myself, so that'll be fun. 

Anyway, I kinda have a plan for this book, so this book might actually have a plot, unlike most of my other books. 

⚠️Tw⚠️: dysphoria, mention of eating disorder, small panic attack(?) and wearing multiple binders, because Ranboo is going to take this thing farther then before. 

Finally, after what felt like forever, I wasn't sick anymore. My head didn't hurt, and I wasn't sneezing or coughing. 

But I always felt like throwing up. Phil had been watching me, so I had been eating. Every bite hurt. 

I was in the bathroom. I had just finished taking a shower, and I had made the mistake of looking in the mirror after. I was captivated by it. I didn't want to look away. But that wasn't a good thing. 

I lift up my shirt, looking at my stomach. It looked so fat, so big. Not skinny. It would never be skinny because of this. Because I made the mistake of eating. 

I had never really looked in a mirror. I had forced myself not to. And even then, I usually only saw my face. I never looked at my body. But now I was. 

My hips were too wide, they made my body curve. I was currently wearing my binder, but there was still a noticeable bump where my chest was. My thighs were too big, my legs too long. 

My gaze went to my face. My eyes looked so small, my lips and nose too big. My face was too round, and I hadn't had a haircut in a long time, leaving me with hair that would've reached my chin if it wasn't so fluffy. 

I'm not sure how long I looked into the mirror, but a knock on the door broke me out of my daze. I pulled my eyes away from the mirror, and grabbed my stuff, walking out of the bathroom. I didn't even see who knocked on the door, I just brushed past them quickly before walking to my room. I wasn't exactly sure when I had started to cry, but I could feel the tears running down my cheeks. I probably looked horrible, but whoever it was didn't come running after me, so they probably either didn't care or didn't see. 

They probably didn't care. Who would care about you? I hated that voice. But it had been whispering in my ear since way before I had ever even knew what the term 'lgbtq' was. 

You should wear another binder. It would make your chest smaller! (a/n: do not do that please, it is not good for your ribs, I know it might be tempting, but please do not do this)

More then one binder? Would that look good? I went over to the drawer, pulling out a few more of binders. Then I went over to the mirror in the corner. It had already been covered when I got here, and I had just decided to leave it like that. I pulled the sheet off, revealing a fancy mirror, with pretty gold highlights on the dark wood frame. But I wasn't here to look at the pretty mirror. 

I pulled off my shirt, revealing my binder. I turned sideways, and looked in the mirror. There was still the bump that my binder wouldn't push down. It wasn't that much of a bump, but it was still noticeable. Maybe another binder would do it. I grabbed another binder, and pulled it on. It made it harder to breathe, but I could see the difference immediately. My chest was almost gone. 

Now I was excited. I grabbed another binder, pulling it on next. I could barely breathe, but I had started to cry happy tears. My chest was flat. Finally, it was flat.