Redwoods; Sleepyboisinc angst

Talking part 2: electric boogaloo

Currently only the chapters before this have been rewritten. This one and on might be inconsistent for now.

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Wilbur was the first to wake up. Last night, or more accurately, this morning, had been mostly fun. Phil had, unsurprisingly, figured out what was going on with Tommy. Apparently he had also been concerned.

Wilbur had been introduced to Techno's keyboard. Techno claimed to not really play anything but Wilbur saw various instrument cases in the closet.

He would ask more today, with Tommy to help pester Techno to play. Tommy was good at pestering.

After messing around with a very quiet keyboard, the antics had died down. At about 5, they finally went to sleep.

It was 1 pm now. Wow, a full 8 hours?

Wilbur rolled off the couch and opened the closet to get his stuff. Then he headed to the bathroom to get ready for the afternoon.

Techno had said something very pog was planned, which honestly worried Wilbur but he was still excited.

He came out to the kitchen/living room area to find Phil was awake. "Leftover pizza for breakfast?" Wilbur asked.
"We're in a whole new country but you wanna stick with pizza?"
"Yes."

Phil laughed and got up to get ready. When he came back Wil had heated up a few slices for the two of them. Wil had apparently taken stock of the kitchen. "The only other option here is bread, apparently. I don't think Techno shops much."

"Only bread??? What can he do with just bread??"
"Well there's a toaster." Both of them laughed.

"I feel judged."

Wilbur turned around in surprise to see techno in the hallway, in pig pajamas. The laughter increased.

"N-nice pajamas." Wilbur covered his smile with his hand.
"You uh, you really embraced your character, mate."
Both were stifling laughter, unsuccessfully.

"Shut up, nerds."

———

Tommy heard the conversation start up in the kitchen. He quietly slipped into the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and grimaced. His cheeks were too hollow, but he still had a double chin, at least that's what he saw.

He pulled his shirt tight behind his back and frowned in disgust. Was he that fat yesterday? Probably.

He turned to see his side profile. Even worse. How could he not try to lose weight when he looked like that? Techno wanted to help but there was nothing to help. He didn't have a problem with eating; it was the solution to his body. He was already helping himself.

Maybe it's not that healthy though.

He physically shook his head. This was fine. He got light headed easily and felt weak when he did anything but that was just dehydration. He knew he should drink more water, but that was all.

Maybe he should eat a little more.

He shook his head more. No. Anything more than the pizza last night would make him gain weight. That was unacceptable. He needed to get control or his progress towards looking ok would be lost. Just a matter of controlling himself and he could do it. He could reach the goal of... better.

He... didn't really have a definitive goal. When his stomach was flat. When he wasn't in danger of stretch marks. That was his goal. It wasn't really a number goal, so those shouldn't matter. Yet those numbers went down, and he got happy. Those numbers went up, and he felt sick.