crybaby: his life + a phan au [REWRITING]

- | Mrs. Potato Head pt. 1 | -

Warning: shit chapter, probably has no dialogue, dan's thoughts and opinions on plastic surgery, well, i decided this will have dialougue.

Mrs. Potato Head pt. 1 of 2

[December 1st]

Melanie's mom was going to visit her.

Today.

I feel so stressed and scared, nervous.

Snervous, as what Tyler says.

I'm definitely snervous.

She just got out of the mental hospital, and had plastic surgery.

Melanie saw her last week and decided it was a good idea to invite her, to her house.

Plastic surgery, now... "If you weren't born with it, you can buy a couple ornaments."

It's literally, I dont know. Kind-of stupid.

Who would pay a hundred thousand dollars for some compliments?

Sigh, it's such a waste. Where little girls, grow into there mothers face.

But little girls, are learning how to cut and paste, and pucker up their lips until they suffocate.

Is it true that pain is beauty? Does a new face come with a warranty? Will a pretty face make it better?

And Mel's dad, how did you afford her surgery? Do you swear you'll stay forever? Even if her face don't stay together. Stay forever?

[The amount of references slay me]

I sat down properly on my bed, ringing Phil.

"Hi this is Phil and you've reached this thing.. yeah, please leave a message after the rawr."

Understandable, it was 2:00 a.m anyways.

Phil probably had a hard day today, he told me he was the one who decorated the whole house with Christmas decorations, and he was so frustrated about one, specific bauble. He told me it didn't want to go to the branch, so he returned it to his 'family'.

God, he's so adorable.

I should go to bed.

I should.

I placed my phone on my bedside table and rolled over to my bed.

I kick off my pyjamas and drift off to sleep.

-

My alarm went off for the 3rd time and I gave up.

"It's almost 12. GET THE FUCK UP U LIL SHIT"

It's almost twelve, I have 15 minutes to get ready!

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I got up and covered my bare chest, fuck. It was so cold.

The heater isn't broken or whateve- oh.

My window was open.

I don't fucking care.

I grabbed some clothes from the floor that didn't smell like shit and placed them on my bed.

I put on deodorant and dry shampoo, since I don't have time for a shower.

I put on hairspray and now it's just sticky.

I also sprayed a bit of perfume to make me smell decent.

I put my clothes on and looked over to my mirror.

"Do I look depressing enough?" I asked myself,