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Logan was faced with a decision that probably shouldn't have been on the table to begin with. Was he going to skip breakfast or lunch? Patton always made sure everyone ate dinner, so that was out of the question.
Logically, of course, he knew he couldn't just cut out a meal completely and utterly with no prior build up. He'd slowly wean it down so that he could eventually just stop eating before dinner ever arrived. His body would be used to lower intake levels, and therefore he would be alright while still achieving his goal.
And what was Logan's goal, you ask?
He just wanted to be desirable.
No one listened to Logan. It was a fact of his life, and he dealt with it accordingly. However it reaches a certain point to where those actions to “deal with it” become extreme.
Hence why Logan was staring in the mirror, shaming his body and himself for his eating patterns and routine. He was so impossibly close to being on the overweight part of the scale, and to admit that to anyone would bring tears to his eyes.
Logan wasn't supposed to feel, he reasoned. He wasn't supposed to cry. He was supposed to be logical, thought provoking, skinny-
Being a figment of someone's mind and having these thoughts was odd, of course. But he could see himself compared to the others. Virgil was definitely thinner than him. Took up less space. That's all he wanted really. The others didn't want to see him, so he wouldn't make himself visible.
Might as well be easy on the eyes, as an addition.
So Logan turned away from the mirror, slipped on his unicorn onesie, and thoughtfully made his plan. He would hold true, he had too.
It was terrible he knew he couldn’t.
Plans like these fell apart far too fast for Logan’s liking, but then again, that was all plans. Nothing could ever stay consistent. It all reminded him why he was doing this in the first place.
Logan resigned to last as long as he could. He was sure Patton would sink his positivity into him at some point, and telling someone he lov- enjoyed the company of that he was unsatisfied with himself was not at all a fun task.
Patton would work with him, and be accepting, and all the things that Logan was not feeling right now. He didn’t care for pleasures or motivational speeches. He just wanted what his body struggled with. He wanted to be like all the pretty and handsome skinny people he saw in the media. People listened to them, respected them, and didn't disregard what they had to say. So Logan had to be like them.
It would work this time, he was sure.
And another damn plan down the metaphorical drain.
Logan slumped as soon as the door to his room closed behind him once more. It had been a long week of avoiding food when he could, but his resolve wasn’t the best when it came to fundamental needs of this metaphysical existence.
He had managed to forgo dinner, at least for this evening, as Patton was busy helping Roman in the Imagination for some fantasy material likely to be seen in a dream later tonight. Logan had merely slipped out of the kitchen, Virgil nowhere to be seen, while the other two went about their day with a promise to be back soon.
Now that he was well and truly alone, Logan took a glance around his room, trying to figure out if it was worth ruining the well done sheets to face plant onto the bed, and potentially mess with his sleep schedule.
Oh, who was he kidding? It was one hundred percent worth it. Especially after the flop itself.
Logan released a huge breath of air and took off his glasses to avoid damage and lay quiet for a moment, a pang of hunger going through him, exhaustion accompanying it strongly. He rubbed his eyes.
The plan was working, or at least he thought it was.
It looked like it was working, though he hadn’t checked the mirror in two days.
Maybe it was his addled mind playing tricks, but by all means, this was a pleasant trick.
If only Logan’s mind could play such tricks when he obtained sustenance normally.
It was made up then, Logan could just continue on like this until he looked how he wanted, and then everything would be perfect. Plans in order, not bothering the other sides as much so maybe they’ll actually take his opinions into account when he needs them to.
It was going to be perfect.
Virgil fretted.
He noticed Logan had been retreating more and more, sticking to himself and not adding much to conversations that would have greatly benefitted from his contributions.
And he’d been more tired. Sluggish. Irritable.
It had been a month of this.
Virgil’s nails were down to the nubs.
They knew the signs, hell, he had them in himself at one point.
But what was Virgil to do?
Logan, who was so brilliantly smart and thoughtful, was skipping every last bit of food he could. And that wasn’t very smart or thoughtful. Or logical.
It was worrying Virgil to the point of pacing and fidgeting when Logan was around, which wasn’t all that often.
He needed to do something.
They couldn’t leave someone stumbling in the dark because they thought that other people had decided something for them.
So Virgil steeled his resolve and stood up and marched their butt all the way to Logan’s room, just to hesitate with his hand raised to knock on the door.
The door opened, and Virgil jumped back in surprise, quickly adjusting himself.
“Shit, um- hi Logan.” Virgil caught his tone and tried to imitate Patton all those times he watched him give others comfort.
Logan raised an eyebrow. And man, did he look like he was in a rough place. His clothes were looser than before, his eyes dull, his movements tired and worn.
“Hello, Virgil. Might I inquire why you’re here?”
Virgil grasped the edge of their hoodie to pick at before replying. “Thought I’d come check on you. You’re missing Patton’s DIY pizza day and you usually enjoy it so…” His voice trailed off uncertainly, like they didn’t want to be pushy but still had a point to make.
Logan’s face pinched in the slightest. “I was not aware it was pizza day. I thought Patton was with Roman in the Imagination?”
“Oh, yeah. They’re back now.” Virgil glanced at Logan’s hand, as if they just wanted to pull him out of his dark room and into the kitchen where they could all laugh over Roman trying to make a pizza shaped like a hydra. “Listen, L, I think we need to talk-”
“That seems inaccurate.” Logan interrupted, causing Virgil to frown and feel slightly hurt. The one person who always wanted to be listened to was shutting someone else down?
Logan seemed to realize the mistake when Virgil was quiet for a moment too long. His face fell a bit and his tone morose. “Apologies, Virgil. Please continue.”
A steadying breath. “Can we talk in your room? I have a feeling you don’t want this conversation overheard.” Virgil gestured vaguely.
Logan nodded and stepped aside to let Virgil in while silently worrying about if this was going where he thought it was.
He also noted the increase in the frequency of Virgil’s fidgeting, likely from the discussion they were apparently about to have.
Logan sat rather rigidly on his own bed while Virgil took the chair across from it, each in dark blue and decorated with star designs. They both stared at each other for a moment, Virgil taking in the details and having their anxieties nearly confirmed while Logan merely sat worried.
Virgil released a big puff of air and stretched before speaking. “So I know this isn’t like, super ideal,” The edge of his jacket is gonna be torn to pieces one day, Logan absently thought. Virgil continued. “But surprise surprise, I’m worried.”
Logan sat in the silence, mentally rehearsing his tone to be relaxed. “To clarify, you’re worried about…?”
Virgil grumbled a bit. “You.”
“And what about?”
Virgil looked up and all Logan saw was sadness and concern. “Have you been eating, Logan?”
Before Logan could open his mouth to respond, Virgil kept talking. “Like, I know I’ve seen you eating dinner a couple times in the past month, but outside that?”
It was Logan’s turn to awkwardly fidget, his own target being the edge of his blanket. He didn’t respond. Virgil crept up and sat down next to him. “I get it, I really do.” Their hands entwined, neither making eye contact. “Just like how I get that there’s not a lot I can say to it better. Am I on the right track here?”
Logan shuffled his feet a tad, his hand now occupied. “Yes, I believe you are.”
Virgil gave the smallest of smiles, despite the awkward and heavy air. “Yeah, I’ve been there. Pretty terrible.” He turns to fully face Logan, setting their hand where his heart is. “I do also know this though: whatever logic is telling you that you need to deny yourself food is wrong.”
“Logic wasn’t made to be wrong.” Logan protested, albeit a tad weakly.
Virgil squeezed Logan’s hand. “And Creativity wasn’t made to be blocked. Morality wasn’t made to be misguided. Deceit wasn’t made to be a prosecutor. Intrusive thoughts weren’t made to be an extreme hindrance.” Logan’s hand moved to join Virgil’s on his chest, feeling his own heartbeat steady out. “And Anxiety wasn’t made to limit someone. But we’re all here, with our flaws, trying to do what’s best for Thomas, yeah?”
Logan was dumbfounded. And for him to admit that was a huge step in itself. “Yes… I agree.”
Virgil smiled, a real one this time. “Anything I can do to help right now or do you just want to go have pizza night?” Logan’s hesitance was enough to keep Virgil talking. “L, you’re not ugly or disgusting for wanting to eat. It’s natural, and it’ll be delicious. You know how much cheese Patton uses.”
Logan’s mouth sloped up gently at the mention of Patton. “That would be quite adequate.”
They stood, Virgil leading Logan out the door by the hand, just as he wanted to earlier.
Logan wasn’t feeling entirely better, and he knew that was unrealistic in such a short time, but he was better than how he started, and that’s what mattered. Even if he got worse again, it would be okay.
It was going to be okay.