Warning, this fic includes references of: -Abuse
- Toxic relationships
-Eating disorders
-Mental illnesses
_Suicidal thoughts and self harm.
Some scenes might be troubling for some so please read with caution, or skip this fic if you might be trigg...
Things are fine. Everything is okay. No one hates you. You are not bad. You are okay. You are okay. You are okay. You are okay. You are okay. You are okay. You are okay. You are okay. You are okay. YOU ARE OKAY. YOU ARE OKAY. YOU ARE OKAY YOU ARE OKAY YOU ARE OKAY YOUAREOKAYOKAYOKAYOKAYYOUAREOKAY.
you are not okay.
After one last checkup metta walked out of his room humming a nice tune, today was a big day for him, it is his first ever meet and greet, and everything had to be perfect. He had to be perfect.
Someone this famous would be expected to live in a mansion, and he would have if he doesn't have to pay off his student loans and the hospital bills, and until those are finished his tiny, crammed, chaotic apartment was good enough. It was okay.
He walked in the kitchen and prepared some milk then added the cereal, but that was okay, why are people so angry about food anyway, milk before cereal, pineapples on pizza, eating the banana without peeling it, it's all okay it's just food, there are bigger, worse things to worry about in life than just food.
He opened his Instagram and started going through his feed, liking some of his friends' posts, he is lucky to have friends.
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After a while he noticed that he hasn't posted in a while. He took a selfie. Bad idea. Abort! ABORT! He looked like shit, SHIT I tell you.
"When in doubt use Facetune" he mumbled to himself.
After editing the photo, and going through the before and after, he realized just how fat he is, how fucking disgusting he looks like in real life, who the hell would ever want to look at him, let alone hug him! He was just pathetic, he was always just pathetic and that will never change. No matter the amount of food he ate, no matter how many times he'd go to the gym, no matter how many layers of makeup he'd pack on his ugly disfigured face he's still disgusting. FUCKING DISGUSTING.
*zing*
Metta lifted his head from in between his legs, wait when did he even curl up like that? It doesn't matter.
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*one new message from Cool_Skeleton_2_the_original*
CS (cool skeleton): "Good morning Mettaton! How are you doing today?"
Metta smiled at his phone, he doesn't normally reply to DMs which may sound shitty, and it probably is, but he just doesn't have enough time, but this guy talked to him before he was big on the internet, and although he can be abnuctios sometimes he is still very nice, and fun to talk to.
GM (Glam Mettaton): "I'm okay darling, thanks you for asking. How are you doing?" "Thank**"
CS: "Perfectly fine!!! In fact it's been great! I ate spaghetti for breakfast, and for lunch and dinner last niht!!!"
This guy has a problem with spaghetti, he is always eating it, and it's full of calories too! He must be like 70 kg or something! How could anyone ever love him like that! How could anyone ever love me like that...
He slowly pushed the bowl of cereal away, as far away as possible, as if it was poison.
GM:"Oh that's great darling! As long as you're happy~"
And the conversation went on smoothly, with cool skeleton telling him about spaghetti, his lazy brother, spaghetti, his bootleg figurines, spaghetti, his fighty-fughty friend, more spaghetti, oh and did I mention spaghetti.
His throat was getting dry, so he tried to get the cup of water from the counter without getting up. He stretched his hand as much as it was humanely possible, but it wasn't enough, was anything ever enough? He tipped his chair a little bit backwards and stretched some more. Come ooon, Come on, So close yet so far, Almost, Aalmost... Got it!
This little victory was enough to make him smile, silently congratulating himself on his efforts. He brought the cup to his lips, how many calories were in water again?
CS:"Hey I forgot to tell you!! I'm coming to your meet and greet!!!!! Isn't th-"
In an involuntary response to such news the water came spurting out of his mouth, covering his phone and the table.
No. No. This can't be happening. He'll hate you the moment he sees you. Who would love an ugly, fat piece of trash. You doesn't want to lose a friend. No. He shouldn't come. He shouldn't see you. No. God please no. Please... No.
