| Slán agat, A Chairde |
| By Alec |
| Warning before you read this story: This is a piece of fiction. It’s not based on any true facts. It’s based on a dream that I had months ago. This story deals with a problem some of us have to deal with. I’m not trying to put Bryan in a bad light. All that I’m trying is to let everyone know that words can hurt even more than actions. This story is rated NC-17. That means that you have to be at least of 17 to read it. If you are younger you are allowed to read it but be ware of the contents. I can’t control who reads this story or how old they are. I hope that the readers are mature enough to decided whether to read it or not. And when you don’t like it stop reading it. I don’t appreciate the hate mail telling me that I’m a sick person. IT’S FICTION!!!!!!!! If you want to email this story to someone please make sure that you add this warning! Thank you Alec Slán agat, A Chairde Sweat was pouring of his face. He could hear the voices echo in his head. "The chubby one.' 'The fat one.' 'He's so fat.' Fat, fat, fat, fat was all he could hear. When he looked in the mirror he saw a fat man. His hand trembled. He could do this. He closed his eyes as he shoved his fingers down his throat. He started to heave and a second later his dinner was out. Bryan sank on the floor. It wasn't that hard. If he could keep it up for a few weeks, people might actually see that he wasn't fat. He rested his head on the cold tiles. He started to shiver. 'Bryan, are you ok?' He heard a soft voice ask. 'Yeah, I'm.' He flushed the toilet and made his way to the bedroom. It certainly wasn't his idea to share. Mark was already lying in his bed. 'You look like shit.' Bryan rolled his eyes. 'Thanks mate.' He quickly took off his shirt and slipped under the covers. He pulled the blankets up to his face. He didn’t want to disgust Mark. 'Good night Bry.' 'Good night.' Bryan hoped he would start to feel a little warmer soon. 'Bryan, wake up.' Bryan's eyelids fluttered and he opened them. Mark was standing beside his bed. 'We have to get up. We have a photo shoot in an hour. I already called room service to bring some breakfast to the room.' Bryan groaned. A photo shoot and food. A combination that wasn't working for him. He got up and walked to the bathroom. He undressed him self and stared in the mirror. His face was fat. His stomach was fat. He was fat all over. Bryan turned his head away. He could stay in the bathroom long enough so that he had no time to eat anymore. Bryan was losing weight rapidly. He was in constant pain because he almost stopped eating. His stomach was hurting so badly but still he saw a fat reflection on the mirror. He managed to hide it from the rest of the band. He would get up early and pretend he already had breakfast. If they had dinner all together he would go to the bathroom straight after to throw up. He couldn't walk up straight because the pain was almost unbearable. Deep circles appeared around his eyes. He couldn't sleep at night. The growling of his stomach kept him awake for most of the nights. It was getting much easier to throw up. Bryan really got the hang of it. One more show to do on this tour and than he was off for a few days. He could rest than. Bryan flushed the toilet and walked to the sink to wash his hands and face. 'How long has this been going on Bryan?' Bryan spun around. Kian leant against the door. 'I've been following you around for a few days now. Each night you go and throw up after dinner. You hardly eat anything during the day.' 'I wasn't feeling too well.' 'Bull shit!' Kian stepped closer. 'Are you anorexic, Bryan? Have you been eating at all lately?' 'It's none of your business.' Bryan dried his hands and wanted to walk to the door. Kian blocked his way. 'It's my business. Look at you Bryan.' He grabbed Bryan and turned him to the mirror. All Bryan saw was a fat person looking back at him. 'You've lost so much weight. You look pale and are in obvious pain. Why are you doing this?' Kian's voice broke. Bryan looked at Kian. 'I'm fat Kian. Everyone says so. I need to get thin and fast.' He pushed Kian away and ran from the bathroom. Kian hung his head. He had tried but failed. He would inform the rest of the band after the show. The show was half way through when Bryan felt a nagging pain starting to rise in his stomach. He lowered his mic and gasped. He closed his eyes and hoped it would pass soon. He continued dancing. Kian's eyes were burning in his back. The pain grew and he felt like throwing up. 'One more song.' He mumbled. The next song was his solo number. He had to get through that one. Shane introduced him and a spotlight was pointed at him. Bryan wiped the sweat of his face. He started singing. His voice quavered. Bryan closed his eyes. The fans knew there was something. He didn't put his heart in his song. Bryan already made his way to the side of the stage. He sang the last line and disappeared of the stage. He ran to the bathroom and barely made it. Blood. All he threw up was blood. Bryan stared ahead of him. He never threw up blood before. He started shivering. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was still fat. He still needed to loose weight. Bryan pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them. The pain got worse. Bryan buried his head in his arms. Softly he started to cry. Two warm arms wrapped around him and started to rock him back and forth. 'It's going to be ok.' He heard Kian say. 'I'm going to help you get better.' Bryan wanted to believe him. But something inside him told him it was too late. He couldn't be helped anymore. Bryan closed his eyes and welcomed the darkness surrounding him. Kian felt anger. He failed. He reached out too late. Kian slammed his fist in the concrete wall. 'Don't blame yourself, Kian.' Mark showed up next to him. 'If anyone is to blame, it has to be me. I shared a room with him for months and I never noticed a thing.' 'I noticed it Mark and I let it happen. I saw him slowly killing himself and I stood there and watched him do it.' 'No one is to blame.' Kian and Mark turned around. Bryan's mother had entered the room. 'Bryan has had this problem since he was a little kid. I've always feared this day would happen.' She sat down and motioned Kian and Mark to sit next to her. 'Don't blame yourselves. Bryan did an excellent job hiding it. Even I, his own, mother had no idea what was going on until it was too late. Bryan didn't want any help.' 'But we cared for him. We loved him. Didn't that mean anything to him?' Whispered Kian. Bryan's mother wrapped her arm around him. 'It did matter but the things said in the press affected him more.' The two young men started crying. 'Millions of fans all over the world were shocked by the sudden death of Bryan McFadden. McFadden, teenage heartthrob, died last week of internal bleedings caused by an anorexic disease. The funeral was private but the four remaining members called this press conference to clear up some details.' The door to the conference room opened and Mark, Kian, Shane and Nicky stepped inside. Flashed went off as they made their way to the table set in the middle of the room. They all sat down. Shane cleared his throat. 'We would like to state the following. Bryan was a close friend of all of us. He will be missed every day. We are going to continue with Westlife as a foursome. But we are going to take some time off to mourn the loss of a close friend.' Shane stared in the cameras. No emotion was visible on his face. 'Bryan died in my arms.' Said Kian with tears in his eyes. 'I assured him things were going to be ok and than he died. He was anorexic. And you know why?' Kian raised his voice. 'Because of you.' Kian pointed his finger at the press. 'All those years you've portrait Bryan as a chubby young man. As much as he managed to hide it from us and the world Bryan couldn't handle that. You killed him.' Tears were flowing freely downs Kian's face. 'You killed him.' He sobbed. Mark wrapped an arm around him and guided him out of the room. Shane and Nicky rose to their feet too. 'I just hope you realized what effect the things have you write in a newspaper. Bryan may have been alive today if you could have seen what a great guy he really was.' Nicky took of his microphone and tossed it on the table. Shane and he walked away; leaving the press and millions of people at home completely stunned. The four friends gathered around the grave as they did each year on this day. They talked about what had happened and what was to come. 'We had another number one, Bry.' 'The film will be out soon.' 'We made a video of our home videos.' 'I miss you Bryan.' One by one they sank to their knees. Kian reached out and touched the grave. A few lines of a song were ingraved in the stone. 'Good bye my friend.' The wind started to blow as they walked away from the grave. Suddenly they all swore they heard his voice saying: Slán agat, a chairde.' Good bye dear friends. |