Author's Note: First, before I go on, please don't shank me. I know I haven't posted anything for like 6 dats, and my last chapter's came so quickly, but I'm still here and determined to finish this thing! Pretty much why there isn't a new chapter now is cause school's a bitch and mind block is a cunt. Hope you enjoy this, there's a part of describing stuff and I hope I did it well and I make you hungry and you're like, "dammit now I'm hungry!". Also a couple days ago I went to McDonalds and actually got a big mac combo (heh, it's actually my thing I always get a McDonalds, no joke, but with a Dr. Pepper) and was about to eat it when I thought of this story and got all depressed and just stared at my food for awhile. Then I ate it.

Also I'd like it if there were more reviews just so I know how everyone who's reading this feels about how it's going to far. Don't be shy, even if it's constructive criticism, please put something! (just don't be a bitch)

Enjoy!


"What do you think you're doing?"

"I-I-I just found it and—"

Alfred quickly snatched his journal from Arthur's hands, "Who gave you the right to go through my stuff?"

"You go through my stuff all the time!"

"Doesn't mean you can go through mine!"

"All I want to do is help you—"

"I don't need your help! I DON'T NEED ANYONE'S HELP!"

"…"

"Dude, why are you crying?"

Arthur was trying to hold back his tears for the longest time, but he just couldn't. Alfred was like a brother to him, and it hurt to see his brother hurting himself.

"Because Alfred," Arthur said trying to hold back his tears and wiping them from his face, "I never thought this would happen to you. I just thought you'd get yourself together and lose the weight or something, but I didn't know you were hurting this much you'd become…"

"…I'm fine."

"No you're not!"

"Yes, I am. I'm fine."

Arthur grabbed Alfred's shirt and lifted it up to show his ribs piercing his skin.

"This isn't fine Alfred,"

"LET GO OF ME," Alfred yelled yanking his shirt back, "I'M FINE I'M TELLING YOU! I'M GOOD, HAPPY, CONTENT, WHAT DO I HAVE TO PROVE TO YOU TO SHOW THAT I'M PERFECTLY FINE?"

There was a short silence in the room as Alfred saw Arthur's face turn from sad, to blank.

"….I'll be back," Arthur said in a neutral voice walking towards the door.

" Wait, where are you going?"

"I said I'll be back," he opened and closed the door. Alfred just stood there looking at the pattern in the glass on the door. After he snapped out of it, he looked down at his journal that he was still holding onto, and ran upstairs to his room. He closed the door then moved his drawer in front of the door so no one would be able to get in. He down his journal on his bed and went to the bathroom to throw up. After he did that, he sat on his bed and got a pen, and started to write in his journal again.

Iggy is confronting me about not eating so much. I lied to him saying I'm fine, but he can tell that I'm lying. He even told me he told France, and everybody knows that if France knows, he'll make sure that everyone knows. So by now half of the world knows of what I've been doing and this situation's going to get worser and worser. Even just saying that I'm fine makes me want to throw up more than I do now. I know it's wrong, but I can't help myself! I just…don't want to eat, but I want to eat, but I don't want to! I still feel fat even though I'm like 108 pounds. I don't see my ribs; I still see tons of grossness and stuff. I just threw up again from my nerves getting to me. What am I going to do? I just want to go back in time and just stop myself from inviting Iggy over and saying anything to anyone.

Alfred heard a knock at his door.

"Alfred!"

Alfred quickly put his journal under his mattress, moved the drawer, and opened the door. Arthur pretty much let himself in holding a bag of something.

"You wanted to prove to me you're fine right? Well here, if you eat this and not throw it up, I'll stop bothering you about your weight,"

"What is that?"

"It's your favorite—well, it was your favorite," Arthur held up a McDonald's bag and a drink, "One Big Mac, fries, and a Coke."

"Dude I already told you, I don't like McDonalds anymore,"

"Well the Alfred I know even if he lost weight would still eat it," Arthur went over to Alfred's bed-side table and took out the food. He placed the Big Mac, fries, and drink on it, "You don't have to eat it all at once, but you still have to eat it."

Alfred had a hesitated look on his face whether he should even try to eat it or not.

"Here, I'll tell you what. Eat one bite of the burger, three fries, and a sip of the soda, and I'll be satisfied."

"…fine, I'll do it."

"Take your time if you want, but I'm not leaving until you do it."

Alfred walked over to the food and look at the bright colors of the meal. The golden fries, the tan bun with little white dots of sesame seeds, the fresh green lettuce; he went on in his mind. He picked up the burger and could soon feel his senses desperately grasping the smell and taste of the burger. The mix of the smell of the pickles with the special sauce made his mind go nuts. He took a bite of the burger. The bite had a little bit of everything in the burger from the meat to the cheese to the lettuce, pickles, and sauce. He swallowed and put the burger down. Then he looked towards the fries and picked up one. He picked up a long, crunchy fry, drenched in salt. He felt a sudden delight when he bit into the fry and soon took another one, and soon the third one. Then he took a hold of the cold 20oz drink. He took a sip of the drink and felt the massive amounts of sugar flow from his mouth down to his stomach. The slight burn of the citric acid was heavenly. It took all his willpower not to bite back or sip anything as he looked back at England.

"There, happy?"