Now that he had asked such an important question, you started to think about if your life was going in the right direction. Were you spending too much time in the library and not enough time illustrating? Probably. You didn’t spend tens of thousands of dollars to attend art school, just to become a librarian. Your right hand sat on your lap, fiddling with the scarf again, and the right, rested on the table.
“You alright, hun?” He asked, waving a hand in front of your face.
You focused back to him “Oh uh, sorry … You ... asked a really important question.”
“Hm? Did I now?” He asked, putting a finger to his mouth as he smiled.
“Yeah …” you paused, then looked into his eye. “How did you do it? How did you go after your passion of acting while in the underground?” You asked, leaning forward a bit.
It seemed like Mettaton was taken aback by your sudden question. “Well, I was one of the lucky ones …” He said. “I wasn’t always this fabulous. I used to be a simple ghost, dreaming of the day I’d rise to stardom. And, well, long story short, I met Alphys, she built my amazing body, and I became a star after my first audition.” He stated, smiling proudly.
Leaning back in your chair, you nodded at the information he had just told you, trying to figure out how you would compare it to your own life.
“But that’s just how I did it.” He said softly, interrupting your thoughts, “And, sweetie, you aren’t me. You have to find your own path, don't compare yourself to anyone else, I mean, I know it's hard for someone not to compare themselves to a fabulous man like myself, but …” He paused, trying to find the right words. He put his hands on top of your hand that was resting on the table, gripping it softly. “You’ll get there, it just takes time, not everyone can be as lucky as me. All you need is a little bit of determination, and trust me, honey, you have more of it than I do.”
You could hear the sincerity dripping from his words. Not sure how to react, all you could do was nod. From the past few years of watching his show, the only side you’ve ever seen of him, was his eccentricity. He never even let the viewers know that he was anything but a robot, not that it really mattered. You were glad to have at least a little bit of guidance, as well as some type of encouragement, even if it was from the man you were for some reason infatuated with.
You saw Mettaton’s eye shift away from you. “Oh dear, look at the time.” He exclaimed.
Glancing over to the clock on the wall, it read a quarter to four.
“It’s been absolutely lovely speaking with you, darling, but I simply must get going!”
Before you even had a moment to respond, Mettaton took your left hand, which he was still holding with each of his own, and pulled it to his mouth, leaving a quick kiss as he stood up. He let go and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, not even pausing to put it on as he rushed toward the door. With his free hand, he waved to you. “Bye, darling.” And with that, he was gone.
You sat in silence, staring at the door he had just walked out of, for what felt like forever, but could have been a mere thirty seconds. Quickly you brought your right hand up to your mouth, feeling a sudden wave of heat take over your entire body. What was that? Did he just kiss your hand? What did it mean?! Here you were, not even five minutes ago, having some type of identity crisis, and Mettaton had the audacity to kiss your fucking hand.
Looking down, you could see your left hand trembling, and a black lipstick print left upon it. What hell were you supposed to do with that?! You were internally screaming in another plane of existence. One half of you wanted to immediately wipe it away, the other wanted to cut your own hand off and frame it on the wall. You decided to try and wipe it away, but all it did was leave a big, glittery, black smudge on the back of your hand. Aggravated, you left it there. You looked away, trying to distract yourself, and noticed the to-go cup Mettaton had left on the table due to his rush. Pulling the cup over, you took the lid off. Inside, was the same hot chocolate you were drinking not even five minutes before he showed up. You put the lid back on, but as you did, you saw scribbling on the side of the cup. You turned it, and written on the side, was your name. He got it for you.