The couch you were sitting in felt nice under your butt, as Mettaton's sweet voice filled the room. With legs crossed you patiently waited for the concert to end. As far you knew, you could leave. Watch the show, eat the food, meet body guards that are extremely  intimidating.  Okay maybe not the last thing, but you could do it. You didn't though. You sat there with all these thoughts in your head. It was like there was another person in your head. Constantly disagreeing with what goes through your head. It was getting to you. The room began to spin. You clung to the couch to try and steady yourself. You felt your heart beat louder and louder, faster and faster like suspenseful African drums. The room got darker and darker. You were breathing faster and faster. You buried your face in your hands and began to cry. You feel a cold hand touch your shoulder.

"Darling? Are you alright?"

Mettaton held your shoulder with the most worried look. You lifted your face to reveal a face full of tears and a drunken women's makeup.

"Oh darling," he says like a mother, "I'm afraid there's no fixing this make-up." He chuckles and rubs your face. He holds you're face in his hand. "You are so adorable." Tears begin to trickle down your face.
"My darling what's wrong?"

You tense up and say, "there's no way we could work. I'm too different. You're a glorious superstar/cook/fashionista and I'm just..."
He looks at you with worry.
"I'm just me." Tears stream down your face once again.

Mettaton takes a deep breath.

"Oh darling, you are absolutely perfect in my eyes!" Mettaton winks. "Shy people are absolutely adorable! Why do you think I love Frisk and Blooky so much?"
He makes a face of realization.
"Not that I like them the way I like you!" Mettaton acts nervously. "They're more like family to me!" He laughs nervously. "Excuse me for a moment darling." Mettaton smiles and walks to the other side of the room. His back is facing you as he smacks himself in the head while talking to himself. You begin to feel happier and begin to giggle.
He looks at you as you laugh on the couch. He chuckles and walks back to you.

He grabs a makeup wipe and cleans your face.
"Are you ready for dinner now darling?"
You nod your head.
"Alright lets go."

You were awkwardly sitting at a table in Mettatons' restaurant. The restaurant was completely empty since no-one could afford it, except for sans, who was always there.

"So," he played with his food "what do you like to do?"

"Uhm, well. I, uhm, I like to draw and listen to music and such." you say in segmants.

"You like to draw?"

You nod your head.

"Oooo~ Exciting! I must look at it."
"Nononononono." You shake your head. "I don't want anyone to look at that!" you tense up.

"I was just joking darling. Don't you fret."

Once the awkwardness passed it was the best moment. Hours spent talking. The room became so warm. Mettaton looked better than ever. You had never felt so happy. You felt yourself follow Mettatons lead. The next thing you knew Mettaton had lead you to his house.
His house was bright pink and fluffy. The whole house felt like a Barbie dream house.
Mettaton licked his lips as he shut and locked the door. He walked up behind and rubbed your hips. You feel your face get hot. He brings his mouth to your ear and whispers, "I had a great time today darling. I'd like to make it better, with your permission of course."

There was a knock on the door.
Mettaton groans and mumbles "damn paparazzi." He whispers in your ear, "Excuse me for a moment darling."
He walks to the door mumbling. He composes himself, then opens it.
"Oh hello Frisk darling! Didn't expect you today!"
"Where's (Y/N)?"
"Have you checked their house?"
Frisk stares at Mettaton with annoyance, and walks right between his legs.
"(Y/N) its time to go home."
You nod furiously and grab Frisks hand and followed them home.

"Oooooo! I almost had (Y/N)!! They were right there! Though they didn't seem to enjoy it... doesn't matter. As long as that skeleton is watching us, I'll never be able to have them without someone interrupting us." he walks to the other side of the room. "I didn't even get to ask them on a second date! Ooooo that Frisk!" He slams his fist onto the desk. "I will make sure (Y/N) is mine. Even if means tweaking the plans..."

Knowing (Y/N) has to be his fills you with determination.