Why Don't We Sickfics

Diabetes

"Twenty-eight! Twenty-nine! Almost there... Thirty!" Daniel cheered, patting Jack on the back as the curly-haired boy dropped his weights on the ground, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"Ah, my arms are burning!" Jack laughed. "Okay, Zach, your turn."

Standing off to the side, Zach reluctantly came closer to the weight rack, picking up a significantly lighter weight than the one Jack had used.

"Oh, come on," Daniel joked, "ten pounds? Are you serious? No, you're not taking the lightest weight you possibly can. At least try the twenty."

Zach tried to smile, taking the next set of weights.

"Okay, go!" Daniel cheered excitedly as he counted Zach's lifts. "One, two, three..."

Zach glanced in the mirror to the other side of the gym, where Corbyn and Jonah were doing some sort of leg curls. Oh, how he hated the gym. Yeah, it was fun to be with his friends and try to make himself stronger, look a little more handsome in the mirror. But dear Lord, working out sucked.

He had no idea how his bandmates did it. They pumped weights and ran on the treadmill, they did pushups and situps and pull-ups and all sorts of things that were exhausting to watch, and then they just stood up and left as if they hadn't just done whatever awesome thing they'd done.

Oh sure, they weren't relaxing or anything, they gulped down water. They left the gym with sweaty shirts and joked about how sore they were going to be. But that's all they were doing, joking.

Zach wasn't just joking about it, though. He felt it. He got so exhausted after working out that he always took a nap afterwards, and even after the nap he'd be like a ghost: frail, shaky, pounding down a donut and coffee until he felt okay, kind of like Jonah pounding out his pushups.

He knew his diet was terrible. It was kind of obvious when everyone else was sitting there with their salads and omelettes and grilled chicken strips.

They were trying to bulk up and get fit while on tour. They motivated each other to keep exercising and wake up early. It was something they were all passionate about, at least that's what Zach told himself to convince himself that he was on the right path.

"Hellooo!" Jack waved his hand on front of the younger boy's face. "Anyone home? We're going to try the stationary bikes."

"Oh yeah, sounds good." Zach picked up his water bottle and followed his friends.

Somehow, while pedaling at warp speed, Daniel and Jack were totally relaxed, chatting casually about tour. Zach didn't join the conversation, his dizziness and exhaustion kicking in. He took a sip from his water bottle, but that didn't help either.

I'm just way too out of shape. This is just what exercise is supposed to feel like.

Zach sighed. He was trying to get fit, really he was. But he always seemed to get tired and shaky, and he just felt weak.

"Alright, boys." Jon, their manager, had come down to the gym. "We gotta head out to our first interview, go get ready and look presentable."

The boys headed back to their rooms, to take showers and get ready.

"So, Zach." Jack said as they headed to the hotel room that they shared. "How'd you like today's workout?"

"I'm so tired." Zach tried to smile. "All these workouts are killing me." he laughed.

"Ah, me too." Jack rolled up his t-shirt sleeve, rubbing his arm out. "I'm already getting sore."

Zach tried not to stare at his bandmate's muscles, gleaming from the sweat. "Hm, yeah."