SKINNY || HYUNHO

III

Hyunjin's days had taken on a new rhythm. The excitement of having a friend like Minho was tempered by a growing obsession that crept into his thoughts, subtle but persistent. He couldn't shake the idea that if he just lost a bit of weight, everything else would fall into place. His phone became a double-edged sword, a source of both connection and temptation.

Scrolling through social media, Hyunjin noticed more and more videos about weight loss. At first, it seemed harmless – tips on healthy eating, exercise routines. But soon, the algorithms fed him more extreme content: endless cardio workouts, meal-skipping challenges, and dubious tips like eating ice to stave off hunger. Each video promised quick results, and Hyunjin found himself watching them late into the night, absorbed by the potential transformation they promised.

In the cafeteria, Hyunjin sat at his usual spot, picking at his food. His tray held a modest sandwich, an apple, and a small carton of milk. But the sandwich remained untouched, the apple unbitten. He was lost in thought, his mind filled with calorie counts and the latest exercise regimen he had watched online.

Minho, with his natural ease, spotted Hyunjin and made his way over. "Hey, Hyunjin!" he greeted, sliding into the seat opposite him. "How's it going?"

Hyunjin looked up, forcing a smile. "Hey, Minho. Not bad. You?"

"Pretty good," Minho replied, unwrapping his own sandwich. "Classes are a bit tough, but I'm getting the hang of things."

They chatted about classes and teachers, Minho's latest impressions of the school, and weekend plans. Minho's energy was infectious, and for a moment, Hyunjin felt a little lighter. But even as he engaged in the conversation, his eyes kept drifting to his untouched lunch.

Minho was in the middle of recounting a funny story from gym class when he paused, frowning slightly. "Hey, you haven't touched your food. Everything okay?"

Hyunjin's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't realized how obvious it was. He fumbled for an excuse, his mind racing. "Oh, I just... I guess I forgot," he stammered. "I've been so busy listening to you, I didn't even notice."

Minho raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but willing to let it slide. "You sure? You should eat, man. You need energy for the rest of the day."

Hyunjin forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow to his own ears. "Yeah, yeah, you're right. I just... wanted to ask, are you liking the school so far?"

Minho seemed to sense the deflection but went along with it. "Yeah, it's been great. People are nice, the classes are interesting, and... well, it's good to have a friend like you showing me the ropes."

Hyunjin smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through him at Minho's words. "Thanks, Minho. That means a lot."

As the conversation continued, Hyunjin felt a mix of relief and guilt. He had dodged the question, but he knew Minho's concern was genuine. He made a show of nibbling at his sandwich, hoping it would be enough to keep Minho from asking more questions.

The rest of the school day passed in a blur. Hyunjin's thoughts kept circling back to lunch, to Minho's concern, and to the videos that were slowly consuming more of his time and attention. He couldn't deny the appeal of the quick fixes they promised, even if a part of him knew they were unhealthy.

At home, Hyunjin found himself drawn to his phone again. He watched video after video, each one reinforcing the idea that he needed to change, to be thinner, to be better. The hunger pangs that had started as a minor inconvenience were becoming a constant companion, but he told himself it was worth it.

He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the light from his phone casting shadows on the walls. His stomach growled, but he ignored it, his mind fixated on the transformations he saw online. If they could do it, why couldn't he?

One evening, Hyunjin decided to weigh himself. He hadn't stepped on the scale in weeks, but now the idea seemed urgent, almost compulsive. He stood in the bathroom, staring at the scale, a mix of anticipation and dread churning in his stomach. Taking a deep breath, he stepped on.

The number that appeared felt like a verdict. It was lower than the last time, but not by much. Disappointment washed over him, followed by a steely resolve. He needed to try harder, to cut more, to push himself further. The tips he had seen online echoed in his mind – skip meals, do more cardio, eat ice to stave off hunger.

As the days went by, Hyunjin's behavior became more erratic. He started skipping breakfast, telling his mother he wasn't hungry. At school, he barely touched his lunch, pushing the food around his plate to make it look like he had eaten something. He spent more time in the gym, pushing himself to run just a little longer, lift just a little more.

Minho continued to reach out, his concern evident in the small gestures and the frequent check-ins. Hyunjin appreciated it, but he also felt a growing sense of isolation. He didn't want Minho to worry, didn't want to drag him into his own spiral of self-doubt and insecurity.

One afternoon, as they were leaving school, Minho stopped Hyunjin. "Hey, do you want to hang out this weekend? Maybe catch a movie or something?"

Hyunjin hesitated, the familiar knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. "Uh, sure. That sounds fun," he replied, trying to muster enthusiasm.

Minho smiled, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes – concern, maybe, or uncertainty. "Great. I'll text you the details."

As they parted ways, Hyunjin couldn't shake the feeling that Minho saw through his facade, that he knew something was wrong. But the thought of opening up, of admitting his fears and struggles, was too overwhelming.

That night, Hyunjin sat at his desk, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He traced the lines of his face, the curves he wished were sharper, the body he wished was different. He opened his phone, scrolling through more videos, more promises of quick fixes and drastic results.

He knew he was treading a dangerous path, but the allure was too strong. If he could just stick to it a little longer, push himself a little harder, maybe then he would finally be good enough.

With a sigh, he set his phone aside and lay down, his stomach growling in protest. Tomorrow was another day, another chance to make progress. And as he drifted off to sleep, the hunger was a constant reminder of the cost of fitting in.