AN: Go back to another chapter and read it. I'm too tired to type all that up again.

Title: Let Me Be Your Friend

Author: Neffie

Chapter 3

Ivan's fingers shook as he gingerly turned the pages of the worn notebook. His vision blurred as he tried to bite back his tears as he read the neat script that flowed across the page.

"May 26th

I weighed myself this again this morning. 138. I couldn't believe my eyes. I couldn't stand to look at myself in the mirror. I'm so pathetic.

Me and Ivan went out to eat today. I got a hamburger. I forgot how good they tasted. It was unbelievable. I guess after you go so long only eating the no-fat, low-cal, no taste stuff, you learn to appreciate things like ketchup and extra pickles.

Too bad I didn't keep it down. I went into the bathroom and stuck my finger down my throat. I kinda wish I could indulge like that more often. But I can't afford to. I'm a dancer. Dancers can't be fat.

We're getting ready to start on a movie. This Disney musical. Newsboys or something like that. I don't really remember. It's getting harder to concentrate on things.

I blacked out this morning. One minute I was drinking some water in the kitchen, then BAM! I woke up on the floor. I've had a hell of a headache ever since. Now I've got a nice bruise on the side of my face. Ivan asked me what happened, I told him I walked into a door. I thought he was going to choke he laughed so hard. I laughed too. I have to keep smiling.

Tomorrow I will do better.

Tomorrow I will not eat.

I will drink 10 glasses of water and everything will be fine.

I control my eating. It does not control me."

Ivan clenched his eyes shut against the surge of emotion. He couldn't fall apart right now. He had to keep reading. He had to see what was going on in Mark's head recently. Had it gotten better or worse?

He flipped through another few pages until he reached the last entry. It was dated just three days ago. He took a deep breath and mentally steeled himself against what he would find.

July 10th

"I hate this! Why do I have to be like this? Why was I born so different?

Why was I born at all?

I've come to the conclusion that I will always be alone. Who would want me? I'm just a clown. An only halfway decent dancer. And my body is so screwed up it's unbelievable.

The scale this morning said 118. I look in the mirror and all I can see is fat. But then someone tells me I am too scrawny and I think that maybe they're right. My mind goes in circles constantly, it's hard to think straight.

I'm different. All that abuse I got in high school… maybe I deserved it. I probably did. I'm an abomination. Isn't that what that crazy woman who my mom always invited over said? That people like me were living in sin and would burn in hell forever.

They weren't talking about me directly. Not that I've ever told anyone about it. I'd be crazy to tell anyone. Especially Ivan. You think he'd want to live with someone like that? Yeah right. I'd be out so fast it would make my head spin.

No one knows the real me.

I'm alone. I always have been and I always will be. The End. Goodbye."

The writing on the page started as the normal, tidy script that was usual for Mark, but as one read down the page, it changed. It became messier, angrier, almost frantic, until the bottom two lines were barely a scrawl. Every couple of lines there was a smudge. The telltale water spots that mark where the writer had let his tears fall carelessly upon the page.

Those dried spots were joined by fresh drops as tears leaked out from underneath Ivan's eyelids to stream unheeded down his face, landing with a soft sound on the paper in his hands. The room was silent except for Ivan's sobs.

How could he have been so blind? How could he have stood by and done nothing while his best friend was destroying himself right before his very eyes? What kind of friend was he? The way Mark wrote, it was obvious that it had been going on for a very long time.

Where was I? Ivan asked himself. Where was I when Mark was in so much pain? He was in the very next room. Why didn't I hear him crying? Why wouldn't he tell me?

Gently he closed the notebook and placed it back on the bed where he had found it. His blue eyes were now red with tears. He wiped his face and made a resolution. I may not have been there before, but I'm gonna make it up to you Mark. You are not alone.

***********************************************

Downstairs the small exercise room was almost empty. There were a few exercise bikes and weight lifting machines scattered through out, but they remained motionless and undisturbed. But at the back of the room there was a long stretch of mirrors covering the entire hind wall. There was a great, empty space in front of them to be used for aerobics, yoga, or anything of that sort.

It was near midnight and the room was completely abandoned save for one. Music blared through a set of speakers as the lonely figure proceeded to dance. Moving as if possessed, as if by dancing, he could somehow drive the demons out of his soul.

Please die Ana
For as long as you're here we're not
You make the sound of laughter
and sharpened nails seem softer
And I need you now somehow
And I need you now somehow

He had removed his heavy shirt a while ago. The sweat ran down his back in rivulets. Loose sweatpants were the only clothes covering his thin body. He enjoyed watching his bones and muscles moving under his thin skin. He liked to believe that he could actually see the fat and flab melting off him as he danced.

Open fire on the needs designed
On my knees for you
Open fire on my knees desires
What I need from you.

The thoughts that usually smothered him had disappeared. The only thing that he could hear was the pounding music. The singer's rough yet soothing voice belting out the lyrics that felt like they had been yanked out of his very own soul. Words that he wished that he was able to say. The only thing he felt was the slapping of his bare feet against the floor and the aching of his muscles. He cherished the feeling. It reminded him that he was alive.

Imagine pageant
In my head the flesh seems thicker
Sandpaper tears corrode the film
And I need you now somehow
And I need you now somehow

His lithe body launched into the air in a series of spins and leaps that made him feel as if he were defying gravity. He wanted to be rid of the earth and all the sadness and trouble held within. He craved the weightlessness of space.

Open fire on the needs designed
On my knees for you
Open fire on my knees desires
What I need from you

Brown eyes never wandered from the mirror. The dark thoughts started creeping back into his mind. He seemed nothing but a thin parody of himself. Looking exactly as he had in high school, those years he had tried so hard to forget. His face still looked so innocent, and maybe, in a way, he still was. He was completely vulnerable inside. With one word he could be shattered. Tears began to build up inside him, but he would not give into them. That would be giving into his weakness.

And you're my obsession
I love you to the bones
And Ana wrecks your life
Like an Anorexia life

Suddenly the image in front of him began to blur. His head swam and he suddenly was having trouble staying on his feet. The "weakness" he was fighting against was closing in on him anyway. There was no fighting, and there was no escaping.

Open fire on the needs designed
On my knees for you
Open fire on my knees desires
What I need from you
Open fire on the needs designed
Open fire on my knees desires
On my knees for you

He fell to his knees in front of the mirror. Finally he could hold back his tears no longer and the sobs tore from his throat. He pressed his burning forehead against the cool glass and beat his palm against the wall.

"Why?" came his strangled voice echoing throughout the room. "What did I do that was so horrible? What did I do to piss You off, God?"

There was no answer, only silence as he continued to cry as hard as he could. The tears burned down in his face and he watched them fall in the mirror, his worst enemy.

*******************

Unnoticed and in the shadows, a blonde figured pressed his hands against his mouth to contain his own sobs.

AN: There will be slash in the next chapter! I promise!!!! The song used was "Ana's Song (Open Fire)" by Silverchair. It was written by Daniel Johns about his own anorexia.