This is it.

Logan stares at the scale in front of him, regarding it for a moment. In one motion, he pulls his shirt and shorts off, leaving him naked except for his boxers. He steps on the scale, clenching his eyes shut and crossing his fingers.

178

He hasn't lost any weight.

How is that even possible? He stares at the number, like in a trance. He's barely eaten anything these past two days. All he's had in total are an apple, a glass of milk, and a bowl of cereal. Oh, and a hell of a lot of water. Water fills him up, so he doesn't have to worry about craving food. It's just…why isn't it working? Why isn't he losing the weight? Is he doing something wrong?

Sighing, he steps off the scale, and pulls his shirt and shorts back on, shaking his head. He's pathetic. He can't even lose a pound in two days.

"God, I'm pathetic," he mumbles to himself, walking back to his room.

"Logie? You alright?" He looks up, into James' concerned eyes. James has been on his tail ever since they've gotten home, constantly asking if he's okay. It's like he has no room to breathe, and he hates it. Sure, he usually goes to James with his problems, but this is just too much. He needs space and time, James just won't get off his back.

"I'm fine! You're such a freakin' control freak! Get it through your head, you can't control everything! Now, just get out of my way and leave me the hell alone!" He snaps at the taller boy, feeling a pang of guilt when hurt flashes in James' gaze.

"I'm sorry…" James mumbles, before turning away. Logan doesn't miss the tears shining in his eyes, as he turns. Guilt consumes his body, and he whimpers softly. Do I have to hurt everyone?

He knows that James isn't overly sensitive, so he must've really hurt the brunette, either by his tone of voice, the curse word, or his words in general. Typically, he thinks before he speaks, but he just…didn't this time. And of course, it backfires. He didn't mean to hurt James, but he's in no mood to fix a friendship.

He continues to his bedroom, halting when he notices the door is locked. James must be inside. Pressing his ear to the door, Logan hears muffled sobs. Part of him wants to demand entry, and apologize to James, comforting him, and telling him everything. But the other part of him wants to be thin. Wants to be popular and liked by their fans.

And that part of him is stronger.

At few hours later, he's at the gym, running on the treadmill. He's been running for the past hour, and his body is protesting furiously, but he ignores it and increases the speed on the machine. Currently, he's running at 7.3 miles per hour, and he's run about 7 miles. His entire body hurts, and he feels like passing out, but he ignores the pain.

Finally, the pain becomes too much to bear. He powers off the treadmill, and grabs his water bottle, taking a long swig of the cold liquid.

Bad idea.

The water makes him feel even more nauseous. He swallows hard, trying to make the nauseous feeling go away. He can't puke. Not now. Not with everyone watching him. But the feeling doesn't go away. He has to puke, he feels really horrible.

Logan runs out of the gym, and straight toward the restrooms. He sprints into the files stall, not bothering to look the door. As soon as he drops to his knees, the vomit practically flies out of him, hitting the bowl with a loud splash. He heaves once more, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Finally, the retches cease, and he slumps back against the wall, panting. Tears still stream down his cheeks, and he whimpers. Goddamnit, he's miserable. And pathetic. And weak. He couldn't even workout without getting sick. How freakin' pathetic is he?!

His phone rings, and he jumps, startled. Still crying, he answers the call, trying to keep the tears out of his voice.

"Logan, it's Carlos. What the hell did you say to James?! You made him cry, you jerk! Why do you have to go and ruin everything? You hurt everyone!"

"W-What…?" He stutters, in shock. Carlos has never said anything remotely as horrible to him.

"You asshole! I'm gonna go make sure James is okay. And do me a favor, stay the hell away from my brother!"

Carlos hangs up, and Logan lets the phone fall out of his hands and crash to the tile floor. He wouldn't care if it broke, because right now, he's too overwhelmed. James…crying…ruin everything…jerk…asshole. The words jumble in his mind, consuming him with guilt and self-hatred.

It hurts so much. He made his brother cry. The brother that held him, comforted him, carried him to the car because he was too weak to walk. And in payment, he made James cry. James never cries. And his words were hurtful enough to break his brother.

He's horrible.

The sobs come, violent and loud. He doesn't do anything to stop them, just buries his face in his hands, and breaks down. He cries hard, the smell of his vomit, filling his nostrils and the phone conversation with Carlos clogging his mind.

He just can't do it anymore.

Back at the apartment, Logan's locked in his bathroom. When he entered, Carlos' hateful glares made him want to disappear.

He's sitting on the floor, crying softly, with a broken razor blade next to him. This dieting thing is shit. He doesn't deserve to live anyway. He's fat. He's a jerk. He's an asshole. He made James cry.

He's vowed to never self-harm. Always talk to his friends if something was hurting him this much. There's no point in that. His friends all hate him. He deserves to die. He's never been good enough for anyone. Not for Gustavo, Griffin, his friends, and most of all, his parents. He was abandoned at a young age. Not legally, but his parents were barely there because they hated him so much.

He finally thought he was getting some self-esteem back. Then came Griffin. Griffin tore his self-esteem down, and now, now his friends hate him. What does he even have to live for?! No, he's not going to end his life. Not yet, anyway. All he's gonna do is cut a little. Why not? He deserves the pain, anyway.

"I'm such a fucking screw-up…" he mutters to himself, grabbing the razor blade. He pulls up his sleeve, and holds the blade to his wrist, tears sliding down his cheeks.

Then, in one motion, he drags the blade across his skin.

I'm sorry for all the cursing, I felt it needed for the story to be realistic. What do you guys think of Logan's cutting? Do you think Carlos was right to yell at him? Review! You guys are the best!

XO ~Neha