Chapter 7

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Ok, so I should be studying, but I got bored. So I'm here, eating pretzels and writing Sans fanfiction. But let me tell you, 'THESE ARE SOME GODDAMN GOOD PRETZELS!!' (If you get this quote, I love you.)

As I'm about to defeat a Behemoth in Dauntless, I can hear my phone buzzing from my bag. I pause the game, and check it.

Grillby: (Y/N), would you mind starting your first shift? We have over 80 customers here, and most of them are asking for you. Text me your answer.

I'm about to tell him I don't really feel up to it, but then I remember all that he's done for me. My house, my phone.. I can't say no.

You: Sure! What time?

Grillby: In around an hour. The exact time doesn't matter.

I make my way to my closet, changing into something formal. I spot the jacket I wore to Sans and Papyrus', and a twinge of pain runs through me. I grab a black jacket, and hastily close the closet door. Swiftly, I grab some sheet music I picked up at the general store. There is one Gabbie Hanna song, 'Medicate', which I've heard. The other two I don't recognise, and the titles are smudged. I thumb through the sheet music book I picked up as well. They're mostly popular pop songs, such as 'Bad Guy', 'Seven Years Old', and 'Honestly'. I pick out a few which I know how to sing; Mainly Gabbie Hanna's stuff. I pull my hair into a side ponytail, and teleport to Grillby's, not bothering to check the time.

"Ah, (Y/N)! You're early!" As soon as my (F/C) flames fade away, Grillby rushes out of the bar door. "Thank you for showing up. You can begin whenever you'd like."

"No problem!" I glance into the bar. "It.. Looks pretty packed in there!"

"Yes, our business is picking up. Like I said before, the majority of them are here for you." Grillby hold the door open. "Come on in." I walk into the bar. Grillby quickly assumes his position as bartender, giving me a warm smile. I take a seat at the piano bench. Same as last time, I play a C Major chord. Only this time, the bar silences. I take a breath, and prepare to play.

Sans' P.O.V (Weren't expecting that, were you?)
I sigh. Since the conversation with (Y/N), I've been feeling kind of down. Not that I'm not always feeling down, nowadays.

"SANS, YOU REALLY SHOULD GET OUT OF THE HOUSE. YOU'VE BEEN HERE ALL DAY!" Papy's right. I should stop sulking. Why should I even care what (Y/N) thinks? She's just like them. Insensitive, and oblivious to my feelings.

"Alright, bro. I'll go to Grillby's." Before he can tell me not to get too drunk, I teleport by the front door. Usually, you can hear bar chatter. Now, it's just quiet. There's a soft melody playing, with a voice singing. Maybe Grillby unsuspended our jukebox privileges. I walk through the door, expecting to be cheered for. Ever since the jukebox incident, I've been somewhat of a celebrity in Grillby's. Instead of applause, I'm greeted with a hoarse voice.

"Dude! Get out of the way! I can't see!" The dog monster cranes his head towards the stage, where a girl in a black hoodie is playing piano. The bar is transfixed. I move closer to the front. Great. Of course (Y/N)'s ruining my bar experience. I go up to the front and order a diet alcohol. (It's a magic world shhhhh..)

Since the resets began, I've been trying to perfect myself, because everything that I've changed about my body stays the same. For example, I still have the scar from.. That time. Currently, I'm working on my weight, though it doesn't seem to be working. I don't know what I'll do once I'm perfect.. Maybe write a novel or something. There's only so much you can do in two months. I can't help but wonder, though, if maybe it's time to stop. To just.. Give up. Stop trying. It's not as if anyone'll miss me.

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