You awoke to a small hand poking your leg. You yawned and opened your eyes to see Frisk smiling at you.

"Hey Frisk. What's up?" You say.

(Frisk talks in sign language.)

"Not much. Why are you sleeping outside?"

"I don't know. Guess I fell asleep while watching the snow fall." You say shrugging your shoulders. "Why are you here?"

"Napstablook told me Mettaton invited you backstage to one of his live shows. Figured you might need a friend to squeel at."
You stood up and stretched. Letting out a quiet screeching noise. You invite Frisk inside. Your house was still completely clean. With colorful walls and carpets matching your secret creative side. If it wasn't colorful, you didn't want it. Sometimes.

Frisk sat down on the couch as you offered him something to eat. He didn't want anything. Frisk never ate around you and it always bothered you.

You went into the kitchen to make some eggs. Frisk went over to your desk and took out your dream journal and read it. Then took out your drawing of Mettaton. You caught Frisk looking through your stuff. And you panicked.

"H-Hey s-stop g-going through my s-stuff!" You said while carefully putting everything back.

"Your a good writer and artist. How come you keep it a secret?" Frisk said.

"I'm not good at expressing things to people. You know this. So I write it down. Then it becomes harder to show people. Because when I show something like this to someone, I . . . I feel like I'm secretly being judged."

Frisk looked at you with pity. They always thought that your shyness was going to get the best of you. And at some points it did. And at some points it didn't. But sometimes it wasn't your shyness that got the best of you. Sometimes it was . . . . .

Frisk waved his hand infront of your face. Apparently you had spaced out for several minutes.

"Are you okay?" They said.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You say sitting down on the couch.

After a half an hour Frisk left. They lived with the skele-bros, Papyrus and Sans. And Papyrus got concerned if they were away from home for a while.

You sat on the couch. A sudden depression crashed over you like a giant wave crashing onto a beach. What if Mettaton was playing you? What if he was doing this to humiliate you? More and more worries formed in your mind. Until you were on the verge of tears.

Ding Dong

That was the doorbell. You calm yourself down and go to answer the door. Only to find no-one there. Except, there was a (F/C) wrapped box with a red ribbon tied on the top. You took the box inside to find a (F/C) suit/dress in it. Inside the box was a card with pink glitter on it. The card read,

Dear (Y/N),
I have bought you this lovely suit/dress for your backstage appearance at Mettatons show.
Sincerely,

The card didn't say who it was from. Which made you wonder who it could have been from.