Chapter 1: Last day of summer

Max savored his final moments of tranquility before the imminent commencement of the new school year. Having recently relocated with his parents and sister to a bustling metropolis on the opposite side of the country, he endeavored to assimilate into the unfamiliar surroundings. Born and raised in the heart of the southern region, nestled close to the majestic mountains, Max had spent his formative years immersed in the vibrant rhythm of city life, with the distant peaks serving as a constant reminder of the natural beauty surrounding his hometown. However, destiny took an unexpected turn when his father seized the opportunity to spearhead a new venture for their family business in a different part of the country. After much deliberation, it was unanimously agreed upon that they would relocate to a charming coastal city in the northern reaches of the nation. This new place, though technically composed of three distinct urban centers, was often regarded as a single, sprawling entity by its inhabitants. Despite the promise of a fresh start, Max's excitement was tinged with a sense of internal unrest. It wasn't a matter of being unpopular or facing bullying at school; rather, he grappled with a profound sense of unfulfillment. Concealing his true self behind a facade of familiarity had grown wearisome. The people around him, accustomed to the persona he had projected since childhood, remained oblivious to the profound transformations he had undergone during his teenage years.
As he contemplated his future, Max yearned for the freedom to pursue his own path without the suffocating weight of societal expectations bearing down upon him. The prospect of forging his identity unfettered by preconceived notions held an irresistible allure. Interrupting his introspection, a message from his mother beckoned him back to the present. While his parents and sister embarked on an exploratory stroll along the bustling boulevards, Max found himself disinclined to join them. Adjusting to the coastal climate after years spent in the arid mountainous terrain proved to be a gradual process, and he welcomed the opportunity for respite before the rigors of the impending school year consumed his attention.
With the house to himself for the foreseeable future, his heart pounding hard enough to echo in his ears, Max's cursor hovered over the search bar, hesitant yet resolute. He typed the familiar address of darkff.com, his fingers trembling ever so slightly with anticipation. As the homepage loaded, he was prompted to confirm his age, a formality he completed with a click, his pulse quickening with each passing second. He entered his login and password, his fingers moving slowly with deliberate precision. The screen flickered, and he was granted access to a world he always wanted to be a part of. As he navigated to the main page, his eyes widened in awe at the array of posts and images that greeted him.
The diversity of the community was striking—individuals of all shapes, sizes, and ages sharing their stories and experiences. Max found himself drawn to a recent post by a user named PlumpAbby. In the image, Abby stood before a mirror, her reflection showing the prominent curve of her abdomen. Max's gaze lingered on the image, captivated by the unapologetic display of her body. His hands trembled as he read her caption, a playful invitation that sent a thrill coursing through his veins.
PlumpAbby: “Did you notice that I don't wear underwear, or did my belly cover that fact?”
As he gazed at the image of PlumpAbby, Max's curiosity was piqued. He had never seen her before on the website and wanted to learn more about her. With a sense of pressure building inside of him, he clicked on her profile, revealing information that further fueled his desires. It was evident from her profile that she had joined the platform during Max's break caused by moving between cities. PlumpAbby, a mere 22 years old girl, her weight tipping the scales at an unhealthy 185 kilograms. In her bio, she described her desire to embrace her unhealthy, hedonistic lifestyle, aiming to achieve immobility before reaching the age of 30. Her words painted a picture of a girl embracing her desires to destroy her body, reveling in the very behaviors that society deemed taboo. She craved humiliation, relishing in being referred to as a fat pig, deriving perverse pleasure from the condemnation of her life choices. Her every picture a testament to her gluttony.
In that moment, Max's own worries and inner conflicts faded into the background. As he immersed himself in the depths of the forum, he felt liberated from the shackles of his fears and conflicts.. Here, he could shed the facade and embrace his true desires. For the next hour, Max allowed himself to be consumed by this feeling of freedom. In this virtual sanctuary, he reveled in his identity: of a man drawn to the world of death feederism.
…

Mira relished her final day of tranquility, the golden hues of the setting sun casting a serene glow over the rippling waves of the sea outside her window. With the end of summer, her respite from the rigors of school drew to a close. Despite her outward appearance, which she considered average, her childhood friend Alexandra often insisted that Mira possessed the potential to be an 8/10 or even a 9/10 if she put more effort into her appearance—perhaps experimenting with makeup or choosing clothes devoid of gaming graphics. At 160 cm tall, Mira's long blonde hair cascaded in a neat ponytail, framing her hypnotic blue eyes. Yet, beneath this veneer of physical attributes lay a persistent struggle with self-esteem.

Throughout her life, Mira had weathered a barrage of taunts from her peers, each barb serving as a reminder of her divergence from the norm. While other children reveled in sports and outdoor adventures, Mira found solace in the immersive worlds of gaming and the pages of her books. As she matured, her extraordinary academic prowess and social awkwardness became fodder for ridicule.. Every day felt like an uphill battle to maintain even a single friendship amidst the ceaseless onslaught of disdain directed at her for daring to like what she liked .
Amidst her depressing thoughts, Mira was abruptly disrupted by a message from Alexandra.

Alx: “Girl, are you coming for that stupid start of the year speech tomorrow? Cuz I'm staying in bed and need someone to bring me some smokes.”
Mira: “You know that it is mandatory, right?”
Alx: “Says who?!”
Mira: “The principal? You know, the guy who's caught you smoking like 5 times already, and you've called him a *** at least 11 times by now.”
Alx: “Max 10 times. + That *** always gives the same speech every year. By now, I think he just plays it back.”
Mira: “Sure. But getting back to your question: Yes, I'm going. And you'll have to ask someone else for smokes. Maybe that Brain guy you always talk about?”
Alx: “Fine, I was going to buy those smokes myself anyway. See you on the ground.”
…
Mira sat at the long and expensive table crafted from dark oak, a piece of furniture ordered by her mother to be hand crafted by one of the best Italian carpenters.. Surrounding her were her parents and siblings. As was customary in their household, a heavy silence hung over the room, broken only by the clinking of utensils against porcelain plates.
To Mira, this ritual of silent dining felt like a macabre family tradition, one that underscored the facade of unity her parents desperately clung to. Despite their mutual animosity, her parents maintained the illusion of a harmonious family, insisting on the ritual of sitting and eating together. Yet, behind closed doors, the veneer of familial bliss crumbled, revealing the hatred that festered beneath the surface.
Mira's twin brothers, seated just opposite her, radiated an aura of simmering hostility. Only two years her senior, each of them nursed a deep-seated resentment towards Mira, convinced that their parents favored her over them. Despite the fact that their parents spoiled them with everything they ever wanted, they harbored a lingering anger whenever Mira received even the most basic of attention.

"So, Mira, what are you going to wear for tomorrow?" asked her mother, her tone cutting through the air like a knife.
This question caught Mira off guard, the unexpected interruption shattering the usual silence. Her parents typically waited until everyone had finished eating before initiating any conversation.
"I don’t know yet," she answered softly, her gaze fixed on her half-empty plate, unwilling to meet her mother's eyes.
"I hope you won't be wearing any of that childish stuff," her mother retorted, her words laced with a hint of disdain. "For once, you could wear something that isn’t screaming 'I’m a loser'."
Mira's heart sank at her mother's cutting remark, a surge of hurt and frustration rising within her. She fought to hold back tears, biting down on her lip to suppress the overwhelming wave of emotion. The weight of her mother's words hung heavy in the air. Meanwhile, Mira's brothers exchanged knowing glances, their stifled giggles serving as a painful reminder of her perpetual status as the family's punching bag.