Your Syndrome and You!: A Handy Guide!

Ch1 - Subject: Brandon Aguja / Disorder: Eating

A/N

hii everyone! this is a supplemental series to go hand in hand with the main mcsn stories! they're extra looks into the minds of certain characters who may not have enough of a spotlight normally!

just as a warning, these stories may be extremely triggering if you suffer from the mentioned disorder of the chapter! please be safe!! if there are any extra triggers i can think about, i will mention them before the chapter!!

END A/N

Brandon sits at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich comprised of nothing more than warm bread and melted cheese. There's no emotion in him as he eats, and he stares straight ahead at the middleground.

How many "meals" did this make for today? Four? Five?

He didn't care. As long as it made him feel something, it didn't matter.

...Not that he felt much of anything right now. His mind is devoid of anything save for scathing remarks about his eating habits. How he's getting fatter. How he's going to die sooner than later if he keeps this up.

He's doing all he can to ignore them all.

There was a reason he was like this, of course. Something that had set him off. But that was two cheese sandwiches ago. It's not like he remembers anymore.

The microwave beeps.

Ah. Meal six.

+++

From birth Brandon had been overeating. It was nobody's fault really, but circumstances added up. A combination of his mom popping a bottle in his mouth whenever he cried as a baby and him finding natural comfort in eating.

It, as many things do, spiraled from there.

Brandon grew to find out eating brought comfort, yes. But it also brought a feeling of nothing if the situation was bad.

Sometimes nothing was better than something.

+++

Brandon stares down at his planner, devouring a large bag of puffy cheetos. There's about two weeks worth of homework he hadn't done that's starting to encroach on him and beginning to bite him in the ass.

His I'll do it tomorrows had doubled and quadrupled until here he was, drowning in assignments.

He reaches for another cheeto only to be met with an empty bag. Frustrated, he tosses the fourth bag he's had in that hour into his trash bin and roughly pushes himself away from his desk.

"Stupid fucking... who even does homework?" he grumbles as he heads to the kitchen. "Waste of time... waste of a good day... waste of space..."

He starts to breathe heavily. "Waste of space... shouldn't even exist..."

Brandon stops short at the kitchen and stares at the pantry. Did he even deserve another bag of chips? Wasn't he just blowing through their already tight budget by being so stupid and going through bag after bag without care?

He suddenly feels sick.

A quick turn leads him to the living room couch, where he falls face first into it. Breathing is not easy while like this, but Brandon can't find it in himself to move. Eventually, he dozes off with voices berating him for being alive.

This was a good way to feel nothing too.

+++

"Here," Sue says one day at lunch, interrupting Brandon from gnawing on his sweater. They hand him a couple of granola bars.