The sun had just been rising. The discomforting shade of gray the sky had been slowly began to fill with color. Pink and blueish purple streaks seemingly were painted across the skyline. Upon further examination, you could see fluffy white clouds slowly poking their way from grayish storm clouds.

Darting his eye away from the small window, Zexl grabbed a small hand towel that hung beside the mirror. Using this, he gently wiped down the mirror, until he'd removed all of the tiny water droplets from every corner - Not caring to get rid of the streaks created by how he wiped down the mirror.

Rather, he cared more to see his own figure.

Zexl appeared sickly.

His cheeks sunk into his face, bags finding their place right underneath his emerald eyes. His collar bones stuck out like the handles of a bike, looking as if you could fully wrap your hand around them, before pulling them right out of his skin.

His ribs created a ladder, noticeable by just the bare eyes. You could think of trying to eat a bowl of cereal out of his stomach, as this had caved in too. A smile pressed to his chapped lips, his boney hands moving to gently wrap around his stomach, his fingers gripped onto the hip bones.

He's changed so much. Two years ago people asked him why he ate so much, why he looked like 'That,' why he allowed himself to let disgusting fat suffocate his frail little bones. Now they asked him why he ate so little, what happened to the 'Old him.'.

His friends had grown increasingly worried, more than his own family.

The family that he barely had.

His little sister had always acted.. Afraid of him now that he had dropped all of that weight. She gave him confused glances, or she'd try to pull the skin from his bones. Everytime she did this, he could feel himself gag. It made his gut wretch. It made him feel... fat. Disgusting.

Just like a couple years ago.

As for his father? He had been emotionally absent. Usually busy guzzling a bottle of beer, or if you were lucky? You'd find him outside, reading a half-decent book, with a half-empty beer. Ever since his mothers death a year ago, this was how the family adjusted to living.

A shudder ran down his spine. Before he tilted his head over to the left of the room. Another subtle smile pressed to his lips, his eye landing on the newly purchased scale his father bought for him a month ago. May. He hadn't known what else he liked, so he just resorted with the safe pick of a scale. If it were any other day in the year, Zexl wouldn't have minded so much.

But on his birthday? Seriously? His 16th no less. At least his father allowed him to borrow his truck when needed; Which was more than he himself used it anyway.

If Zexl wasn't using it, it would probably be sitting around, collecting rust.

Taking in a deep breath, he slowly exhaled. His left hand reaching for his phone, before walking over to the small, clear scale. Pressing the power button to his phone, he entered his password. '0517,' his and his partners' anniversary. Scrolling around his apps for a moment, he found the app for his scale. Opening it, small letters on the scales' LED screen read, 'H-e-l-l-o-!'.

Before, he turned the weight measurement to pounds. For him, it was easier to calculate his BMI with pounds rather than kilograms. Taking another deep breath, Zexl placed his phone upon a nearby shelf. Before, stepping foot upon his scale.

The LED display changed to little bars, signifying that it was calculating his body weight.

'Please be lower.. Please be lower..' Was the only thought throughout the weighing process. Before, the sound of his phone vibrating could be heard. It was over.

Looking down, his eyes lit up. He felt.. Good. Accomplished.

He weighed four pounds less from the last time he weighed himself. 'I wish it was more.. But at least- I'm losing, right?' He thought to himself, stepping off the scale, grabbing his phone with his boney hand. His fingers wrapped tightly around the edges.

Returning to stand in front of the mirror, he opened his weight tracker. For the past week he'd been 95 pounds. Now? He was 91, closer to 90. Inputting this, he also took a screenshot - Before, opening his Twitter. Hitting the blue 'Post,' button to the lower left corner of the display.

'finally lost after a week of maintaining..' Was the caption awaiting to be read. Meanwhile, he attached that same screenshot he took seconds ago, showing that he was telling the truth. As of lately, he'd been forgetting to take a photo of the scale itself, so this was his update anytime he weighed himself.

Immediately, likes to his post flooded through his phone - Causing him to swipe down the top of his screen, turning on DnD. He didn't need the notifications, he still had to get ready to go out with his boyfriend at 7:30. Glancing at the time, it was already 6:45, he had to hurry up.

Sighing, he reached to the outfit he'd laid out before his shower. His fashion was more gothic, unlike his boyfriends'. He had more of a.. Y2k style, if you would. Pulling his fishnet shirt from the ball of clothing, he slipped it over his head, before slipping his hands into place.

Grabbing his Utero Nirvana t-shirt, he slipped this on over the fishnetted shirt. Before pulling his boxers from atop the pants he'd laid out, these having a subtly large fit, although clinging to his waist. He had small legs, too. A little bit of fat around his knees, and his calves were his main enemy - But otherwise? He was small overall. To the extent the boxers he bought four months ago no longer properly clung to his leg, the elastic fitting too wide.

Then, finally, he snatched his bloodied, ripped blue jeans from the marble countertop. Slipping these over his matchstick legs, his left hand reached for his checkered belt. Silver and black checkers.

Gently, he threaded this through the loops around the pants - A total of five. Two in the front, two on either side, and one in the back. Two of them had duck tape wrapped around for aesthetics, and to help keep them from falling apart.

Allowing his shirt to stay untucked, Zexl groaned. It was time for probably his favorite, and least favorite part of the day; His makeup routine. Pulling open one of the four drawers scattered around the sink, he pulled out two of his makeup pallets and a singular eye liner pencil. The first makeup pallet had been filled with various creamish whites, while the other, monotone shades. All of the white had been used, so he only used it for the black eye shadow.

Pulling out two brushes, it took him no time to get to work. Covering his neck, and face in white makeup. Before outlining clownish like lips over his own, which would be filled in with black lipstick. With the eyeliner still subtly wet, he began to rub downward along the bottom lip, giving it a streaky look. A look.. He enjoyed.

Before, continuing to go around with this clown aesthetic. Around his eyes, he created a diamond shaped design, before filling this in with eyeliner. Just like everywhere else, his fingers smeared down - Creating that same streaky aesthetic as his lips.

After spending almost five minutes on either eye, he felt satisfied. His attention shifted to his nose, which he created a swirled design upon.

And then, after almost fifteen minutes, he was done.

He was.. Complete.

'Lookin' good..' Zexl thought to himself, putting away the two eyeshadow pallets - As well as the brushes used and his eyeliner before pushing the drawer into place. His eyes shut for a moment, as he'd take in yet another deep breath.

"..I can't be late." He mumbled, shaking his head as he reached out for his phone upon the marble countertop. His boney thumb pressed itself into the power button of the phone. The display lit up, revealing a ton of missed notifications - And the time.

Scrunching his lips together, Zexl quietly groaned. Three large numbers displayed on his screen read '7:14.'. He still had to get the rest of his outfit completed. More importantly, his shoes. He still hadn't put them on, and they were out in his foyer, waiting to be worn like any other day.

Shaking his head, Zexl plucked his phone from the countertop, before he began making his way out of the bathroom.

As he moved, he felt his tibia rubbing against his fibula which created a teeth-like grinding sensation in his lower leg. This earning a low grunt while his boney hand reached out, pressing his palm against the silver handle of the bathroom door. Before twisting it - Pushing the door out, he walked out as well. Gently shutting the door behind himself with his left foot.

The house itself was nice. Although the family itself had been dysfunctional, they lived in a well-kept house. Though, it was only kept like this due to Zexl; And his excessive cleaning routine, which is done typically on Sundays' or Wednesdays'.

Sliding his phone into the left back pocket of his pants, he began to make his way to the foyer - His head tilted down, and both of his eyes focused on the floor. He never really cared to look around, hes' seen these halls at least a thousand times, why would there be a difference now?