Chapter three
Davy finished buttoning his shirt, which was difficult due to its tightness. Most of the time since the start of his depressions he had worn loose fitting, comfortable clothes, so that made it easy for him to ignore the little bit of weight he had gained recently. But now he had actually made an attempt to look a little nicer that day in hopes of helping himself to feel better, he was faced with the reality that his regular clothes weren't going to fit properly.
He turned to look at himself in the mirror. Placing a hand on his belly, he turned to the side to get a better look at how visible his gain was. There was no point in trying to hide it, and he couldn't keep sucking in all day long. Sure it wasn't a lot of weight, but it was enough to be obvious that had put on a few. To this he knew he would receive a lot of comments such as "we keep telling you not to eat so much" or "we're just so concerned about you and your eating habits" or even the occasional "look, Davy, you're doing this to yourself." As much as he knew it would bother him to hear that stuff, he knew it was better to face it than to avoid it. Besides, if it got too much for him to handle then he knew that he could easily walk away and go into another room.
Walking into the next room, Davy saw the other three guys setting up on the bandstand. He stopped and watched them for a moment, feeling old stirrings inside of him. It had been a long time since he took part in the band, and today he was feeling in a good enough mood to want to join in on an activity that usually gave him so much pleasure before his depression. However, he wasn't ready to just jump in and join the others on the bandstand, at least not on his own.
Mike looked up, mid-way through tuning his guitar, and nodded at Davy. He waved him over to the bandstand, which made Davy feel good.
"You want to join us?" Mike asked
"Um… sure." Davy walked over to his usual spot and adjusted the microphone stand. "I'm afraid I'll be a bit rusty though."
"Don't worry about it. This isn't a serious practice or anything."
"Alright." Davy replied quietly before picking up a tambourine. He looked at the others, feeling a little unsure. "So what um… what are you fellas going to play?"
"Well Davy since you're joining us this time, why don't you pick a song?" Micky suggested
"Ok um…" Davy looked at the tambourine in his hands, holding it close to his chest. He mumbled the name of one of their songs, unsure if he really wanted to sing it. But he was willing to give it a go since he thought this would help him feel better, just like the clothes he chose to wear.
They started the song and Davy struggled to get into it. Peter leaned down to him and whispered to him to see if he was alright. Davy nodded and continued singing, as difficult as it was. As he sang he started to become frustrated with himself. He stumbled over words that he never had trouble with before and he missed a line. He started feeling self-conscious of his singing, thinking that he wasn't good enough anymore.
His self-consciousness quickly shifted from his singing to his weight as he looked down and saw his belly poking out. His shirt looked really tight over his stomach and it seemed like one of the buttons was holding on for dear life. He suddenly felt a lot heavier than what he actually was. He felt himself begin to turn red as he thought the guys were staring at him and paying as much attention to his weight as he was.
He stopped singing and lowered his tambourine. The other three guys stopped playing and looked at him. Davy sighed and looked at them apologetically.
"Sorry fellas. I can't get into it." He half lied.
"You didn't have to join us if you didn't want to." Micky said
"No I wanted to. I was hoping it'd help me feel better. But I…. I just can't get into it. I'm sorry. I let you guys down." he stepped off the bandstand.
The others watched him, unsure of it they should coax him back. They tried talking to him to help him feel better. This didn't do much, though, except cause him to feel worse about himself. He felt terrible that he had messed up the song. He felt utterly embarrassed by the way he looked right then. He also felt like they were trying to get him to keep playing out of pity. To make things worse, he saw the one button pop off his shirt. His face burned with humiliation and he tried to cover the open space on his shirt. Feeling tears begin to form in his eyes, he quickly walked away so nobody could see him cry. He suddenly felt desperate for comfort but he didn't want to turn to the guys for it. He feared that if he did they would only put him down.
In the bedroom he went to the closet and began rummaging through it. He pulled out a box he had in the back and opened it. Inside the box was all kinds of junk food he had stashed away. Grabbing all the food from the box he then carried it and plopped down on is bed. Tears started falling as soon as he opened the first bag of chips. He cried and stuffed food into his mouth, desperate for comfort it would provide for him. He only stopped eating once to look around at the food surrounding him. That was when he decided that he didn't have enough.
Davy took a deep breath and wiped away tears. He stood up and walked over to the door. Mentally encouraging himself, he left the bedroom and headed straight for the kitchen. He didn't care at all that the other three guys were still out there and were watching him as he gathered food.
Mike entered the kitchen and leaned against the counter behind Davy. He watched Davy pick up more food and hold it in his arms, probably more than he could carry.
"Davy." Mike cleared his throat. "Davy I know you're upset and all but you can't just eat all that. Come on, babe, why don't you put some of that back?" he reached to try to take some of the food away from Davy but Davy jerked away from him.
"No!" Tears formed in Davy's eyes. "Mike please… what's so wrong with me eating this?"
"Well you're gonna make yourself sick for one thing."
"I don't care!" Davy exclaimed through his tears. He held the food closer to him with more determination not to let go of any of it.
Micky and Peter walked over to them, both showing their concern.
"Davy this isn't good at all." Peter said sadly. "Please, we're all so concerned about you."
"What's the point in eating all that any way?" Micky asked. "What does it even do for you? All it's done was cause you to gain weight." He poked Davy's soft stomach. "Babe just put it back."
Davy looked up at them. Tears streamed down his face. His eyes clearly showed sorrow. They showed pain. They showed all the desperation that he felt. He took in a staggered breath and tried to speak. The tears made it difficult for him to communicate what was on his mind. He wasn't even sure what he was going to say anyway because he knew they wouldn't understand what he was going through. He couldn't explain that he desperately needed comfort and that right then he believed he could get that comfort from the food. He couldn't explain to them that he felt he couldn't turn to them right then because it would only bring them down. He didn't want them to be more disappointed in him than they already were.
"I can't…" He said quietly. He closed his eyes and allowed more tears to fall.
"Why can't you?" Mike asked. "It doesn't make sense."
"I need it alright!" Davy snapped. "You guys wouldn't understand! Please just leave me alone!"
Before anyone else could say anything to him, Davy stormed off with the food. He rushed to the bedroom and kicked the door closed. Wracked with tears, he tossed the food onto the bed. In a fit of desperation, he plopped back down and tore into the food. He was a mess of tears and food, and there were wrappers and bags beginning to surround him. But he didn't care. He stuffed as much food as he could into his mouth and continued to cry. In his mind he had convinced himself that if he just kept eating the pain would go away. If he kept eating he could block out everything. If he kept eating he would be okay. He knew it was only making things worse but he also knew he had to eat. He had to eat to feel better. He needed the comfort. It was all about the comfort.
He was miserable before he started eating. He was miserable while he was eating. That made him want to eat even more. The whole scene in the kitchen replayed itself in his mind. That made him feel so much worse. He thought about Mike trying to get him to put the food back. He thought about Peter telling him how concerned they were of him. He thought of Micky poking him and telling him that all the food has done was cause him to gain weight. He tried to block this out by stuffing more food into his mouth, but the thoughts remained on his mind. All he had was the food and he had already depleted much of his supply.
Looking around, he desperately searched for more food. He grabbed a bag and tore into it, not caring what was inside. His desperation for comfort grew as he continued to eat. When he looked down and saw that all that was left was wrappers and empty bags, he let out a sob. He frantically searched through the wrappers, hoping to find a piece of food that he missed. All of them turned out to be empty, much to his great dismay. He sobbed again and fell forward, curling up into a ball. There, he kept crying until he fell asleep.