running on empty

3 // Glass.

tw for this chapter - there's moments where ethan fatshames himself and ties his weight into his self worth. while this is common with eds, its not at all accurate and i do not want that to be the takeaway.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ethan stumbled mid-step and just barely caught himself on the wall of some nearby building, taking in a deep breath before shakily righting himself. Tripping over nothing was getting more and more common these days - something that had never happened to him before. Finally the blackness at the edges of his vision faded and he was able to walk again.

Mark’s house was miles away, and even though he needed to lose weight he couldn’t possibly walk the whole way. Just… a couple of streets. Enough to get in a small workout. After parking his car in a lot, tucked away in the far corner of the top level, he started a brisk pace towards his friend’s house.

Almost an hour of walking later he had finally made it to the big white house. His breathing was labored and his vision was going fuzzy, making him irrationally upset with himself. Never in his life had he been so out of shape - this diet really was for the better. Trying to hide his wheezing, he knocked on the door, leaning subtly against the frame.

The door opened quickly, revealing Ethan’s friend. “Ethan! You’re finally here. Come on, we’re, like, thirty minutes behind.” He quickly ushered the younger in, kicking the door shut with his foot as he sped over to the recording equipment. “So I was thinking we could do that glass idea -"

“Glass idea?” Ethan echoed. He scrunched his face in confusion. “What glass idea?”

Mark grabbed a handful of cheap wine glasses from the kitchen counter and set them on the table in the dining room. “Where we break glass by screaming at it. Come on, you were here for that.”

“I was?”

“Yes? Now come on; we have to film this before four. Just- follow my lead, okay?”  Giving up, Ethan sat down in his chair, picking up the thin glass. Mark checked that everything was recording once more before sitting down himself. “We’re going to be singing high enough to shatter them.”

“Oh,” was all Ethan said before the video started.

Throughout filming he got more and more lightheaded. He thought that the fog settled in his brain from walking would clear by now, but with all of the screaming and high notes it was only made worse and more painful. Thinking and focusing on the video was increasingly difficult and he found himself gripping onto the edges of the table for balance.

Suddenly remembering the glass shattering videos he had seen previously, he decided in his foggy mind that the best course of action was to sing as high and loud as he could at the glass. Using his “head voice” rather than his “chest voice” had only made his headache worse, though, and he hunched over the table for support.

“I’m gonna pass out -” he groaned, sucking in a sharp breath and falling even lower. Resting his head on his knees in an attempt to clear the fog, Ethan whimpered softly. The black haze in his peripherals came back, and the world seemed out-of-focus and blurry for another minute.

Mark leaned down to look at him and his eyes widened at the exhausted way Ethan held himself. He moved a comforting hand in between his shoulder blades, moving it in circular motions. “Ethan? Are you good, man?”

“No.” Ethan groaned again, letting out a shaky sigh. He never felt like this back in his gymnast days, when he was working out constantly and staying in shape. Unlike the sorry sack of shit he found himself to be now. Hell, he couldn’t even sing without getting light-headed! How overweight was he? It was obvious that he needed to work out more - even restrict his intake of junk foods and sweets. The walk over had been one of the best he had had in awhile.

“Do you need a break -"

Grimacing, he sat back up and shrugged Mark’s hand off of him. “No. Let’s keep going.” If he couldn’t get through a simple Unus Annus video then he was completely hopeless.

Ethan didn’t want to be completely hopeless.

“Okay, if you say so, Eth.” Mark’s eyes narrowed at the complete 180, but he stayed silent. They were behind schedule, and if Ethan said he was fine then Mark would believe it. Hesitantly he grabbed the glass again, singing with his mouth pressed against it.

Still recovering, Ethan took a few deep breaths before joining in. His headache grew again, but he ignored it so as to not cause a scene. The straw was moving rapidly, and if he had just held it for a little longer... Unfortunately, his breath ran out, leaving him gasping inaudibly for air. Mark continued for a couple of seconds more, and barely even had to recover his breathing before he started again.

Why couldn’t Ethan be more like him?

Mark was strong, handsome, in-shape, and nowhere near as weak as Ethan was. He worked out regularly - even just glancing at his arms proved that. Ethan was none of those. He was feeble, gross, overweight, and just sad. His diet wasn’t working in the slightest because he kept cheating, and his version of working out was to walk the few streets from his car to Mark’s house.

He was a total failure compared to him.

The video ended pretty quickly after that point. Mark smashed one of his expensive glasses and Ethan made sub-par commentary. Like usual. Finally, they wrapped up, and he made his way back to his car.

Feeling faint and dizzy, Ethan pushed himself harder, working up to a mild jog. In his mind, he had committed to starting a workout plan when he got home, but for now jogging would have to do. Picking up speed, he raced up the stairs of the lot and to his car, blasting the A/C as soon as he locked the door.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He needed to get back into shape yesterday.

"Fuck.”