I saw the small number on the scale: 40 kg.
I looked up at my dad, who was smiling proudly. Beside him, my mom nodded lightly, as if confirming her approval.
"This is the ideal weight for your age," my dad said confidently.
I smiled back at him, but I felt strange inside. Am I happy because I've become thin?
I rushed to the dining table, sat in my usual chair, and looked at the plate full of food in front of me. Finally, I could eat!
I took the chopsticks and picked up a small piece of meat, bringing it close to my mouth… but I stopped halfway.
Why don't I feel like eating?
I haven't eaten anything for a week; I should be starving. So why don't I have an appetite?
I set the chopsticks aside and pulled out my phone. I snapped a picture of the food and posted it on my listagram story with the words:
"Don't skip your meals, eat properly!"
How ironic. I need the advice I'm giving to my followers more than anyone else.
I opened the search app , curious about something my dad said earlier.
I typed: "What is the ideal weight for 16-year-old boys?"
I just wanted to be sure that my weight of 40 kg was correct, like my dad said. I wanted to keep this "ideal" weight to not disappoint him.
But what I read shocked me:
-If the teenager's height is around 170 cm, the appropriate weight may range from 53 to 72 kg.
-If the teenager is 160 cm, the weight may range from 48 to 64 kg.
I'm 172 cm tall, and my weight is 40 kg.
How can this be my ideal weight?!
I looked at myself… I looked way too thin. Even the weight for someone younger than me in the article was higher than mine.
Isn't this unhealthy? So why do my parents want me to be like this?
Of course they don't mean to, maybe they don't know about it, it's okay I myself realized that my weight is not appropriate for my age only now
"Jaeyoon, you have a photoshoot for Aldont Magazine for the September issue tomorrow, so get some rest," I heard my mom's voice. I raised my thumb in acknowledgment and quickly wrote the magazine's name down to look it up.
It was a habit I recently picked up. In the past, I never bothered to research the magazines I signed contracts with, and that caused me some problems and criticism, since I didn't know anything about the magazine's background. But lately, I've been looking up the magazines to check whether they're reputable.
I clicked on the first link that appeared and started reading about the magazine. My finger froze involuntarily as I saw the content—it was a magazine for adults.
Its content was aimed at an adult audience, so why do I have a photoshoot with them?
"Mom, this is an adult magazine. I'm not even 18 yet, how is this appropriate for me?"
"It's fine. They'll take some beautiful photos of you. You'll look attractive and fitting for the magazine."
What?
"What kind of photos, mom?"
She answered absently, scrolling through her phone, "Just photos that focus on your body and face. Specifically, they'll focus on your looks and attractiveness. You know you're handsome for your age. The magazine will just highlight those features."
I stood up quietly, replying simply, "Okay."
I turned toward the drawer, but then I heard my mom's voice again.
"Aren't you going to have dinner? Your diet's over."
"I'm full."
I gave her a short response, my voice so low that she probably didn't hear it.
I entered my room, closed the door, and buried myself under the covers, holding my pillow tightly to my chest.
I hated adult things. They had followed me since I was ten.
Even as a child, they called me "king of hotness." I didn't want to be seen that way.
I never felt comfortable during photoshoots for magazines like this. I was subjected to strange stares and uncomfortable touches.
I buried my head in my pillow, hoping the thoughts would stop and I could finally sleep.