The mirror looked blurred, Hobie hated times like this, when he couldn’t tell what was wrong until he realized looking into the mirror was hurting his brain. He didn’t like how sharp his cheekbones were, how defined his chest and skinny stomach were, and his broad shoulders.. He wanted to rip himself apart, just getting the disgusting feeling of being wrong away from him but it didn’t work.

Hobie went ahead to text you, he let you know he wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t come to school because he just didn’t want to go out of bed, he didn’t want to be seen as whatever people see him as. All Hobie wanted was to disappear.. maybe you’d come over but if he really wanted that right now, he didn’t know either.