Hey there, this is DETERMINATION001 here with the first chapter of Trouble. (Terrible name, I know. It sounds like a Taylor Swift song, but, hopefully the story is better than the title.) Yes, I posted this story is on Wattpad. Don't be surprised, or think that I stole, because I didn't. Please enjoy and please, please review. (reviews make me happy, very, very happy)
By the third day Frisk spent out in the open, she had decided that the cold was the worst thing in the universe. In spite of weeks of preparation, weeks of gathering as much money as she could manage, weeks of dreaming of the moment of her departure from home, nothing could have prepared her for the cold. She wandered through the streets of Snowdin, her breath dense, white fog in front of her, and her face numb. It felt as though her very joints were about to freeze into little ice cubes if she didn't find a warm place to sleep soon. She tugged at the thin, purple sweater she was wearing and desperately wished for something warmer. Wished for money too, as what little she had was running out fast.
Frisk dug her hand into her pants pocket and felt the single, crumpled bill that lay within. She pulled it out and stared at the number on the piece of paper. Five. Five dollars, and she'd started out with fifty. Where had the money gone? Only a little while ago, she seemed to have amassed a small fortune from what she could inconspicuously steal, beg, borrow, and barter, but now? Now she had enough money for a cheeseburger, and that was about it. She stuffed the bill back into her pocket and kept walking to stave off chills.
Snowdin wasn't a huge city, but it was huge enough by Frisk's standards. The bus ticket there had costed her a whopping thirty dollars, which accounted for where most of her money went. Now she only had five dollars left. No way back. Not that she would have taken it had it been offered, but nonetheless, the weight of the unknown settled heavily upon her. A sudden shock of determination filled her. No, she would not go back home, she would buy a cheeseburger, and she would survive. No matter what lengths she had to go to, she was determined to stay alive.
Frisk set off with newfound rigor, her eyes scanning the various shops of downtown Snowdin for a burger joint. Finally, she came to a stop at a semi-reputable looking place with the name, emblazoned in gold upon a scratched, black, weather-beaten sign: GRILLBY'S. Looked decent enough. She pushed open the door and was immediately startled by the gust of warm air that followed. The place smelled like grease, alcohol, ketchup, and fries, and every last bit of her body screamed HELL YES, BRING ON THE BURGERS AND THE WARMTH! But another part of her recognized the smell of the place. It wasn't just ordinary fast food grease. This was high end burger grease. Or at least, diner burger grease. Just one of these things could potentially cost her at least ten dollars, which, while it would probably be the best thing she had ever eaten, it was still way over her budget.
Still, the idea of going back out there into the cold, harsh city to look for another place to eat wasn't appealing in the slightest. It wouldn't hurt to check the prices before she went, would it? Frisk walked slowly up to the bar, where a tall, red haired, bespectacled man in a white button up shirt, black vest, and bow tie was absently polishing a shot glass with a rag.
"Uh, excuse me?" she said, waving a little to get his attention. The red headed man stopped polishing the glass and looked down at her inquisitively. She cleared her throat. "I was wondering if you had anything here that costs less than five dollars? Or, erm, right at five dollars? That's kinda as high as I can go."
The man stared at her for a little while, his expression unreadable, until another customer called out, "Yo! Grillby! Can you top me off, pal? I'm runnin' a little low."
The man, who she assumed to be Grillby, turned to the other customer and said, "Coming, Sir." He went back to Frisk. "I'll attend to you shortly, Miss." Then he bustled off to a room in the back.
Frisk waited patiently, and a little nervously. The heating was nice though, and she certainly wasn't going to complain. Grillby emerged from the back room with a glass bottle marked, "special," and poured the ailing customer a generous dollop. More customers called for Grillby's attention, and he attended to each of their needs dutifully and immediately, leaving Frisk quite unattended. She watched him bustle about his business for a while, and was beginning to think he had forgotten about her when suddenly, he emerged from his mysterious back room carrying a heaping plate containing a burger of epic proportions and a generous helping of fries. He set the plate in front of her and was about to bustle off to another errand when she stopped him.
"Wait! I can't afford all this. I don't have much money-"
"It's on the house. Eat. You look hungry," Grillby said quietly before he once more disappeared into the back room. She stared after him in amazement for a moment, then smiled and set to work on her food. The burger's meat was tender and juicy while the fries were wondrously crisp and salty and she gorged herself shamelessly on the treasure-trove of flavor. At one point she had come up for air long enough to realize Grillby had set a glass of some dark liquid, which turned out to be soda pop, in front of her. She seized the glass and took several large gulps from it, then returned to her food.
Frisk left GRILLBY'S stuffed, warm, and immensely tired. The shock of cold upon leaving the warm, safe, haven had been enough to remind her of her situation, but not really enough to be aware of it. Things were hopeful now. She had met a kind person here who had fed her. She still had five dollars. She was actually sort of comfortable. She wandered on, glancing around the street for a halfway decent place to sleep, but everywhere she saw was taken up with some hobo or another.
She felt the warmth she held on the inside from Grillby's ebb away. She wrapped the thin, purple sweater around her even tighter, desperately clinging to that warmth. If it left her... she honestly thought she would cry. What she really wanted to do was go back to GRILLBY'S and stay there, but all she did was keep walking. Eventually she came up to a relatively good looking spot that was not already taken up by a hobo. It was a small space between two buildings, barely enough space for her to squeeze in, but that meant it would be warmer than most other places once she got the snow out.
She was just about to get to work when she noticed something. A soft purple glow illuminated her peripheral vision. Frisk glanced over to see the source, and saw heaven in the form of an open door. She tried to disregard it in favor of cleaning out her new bed of snow, but... She glanced back. If she concentrated, she could feel the warmth emanating from the room, which appeared to be some sort of bedroom lit with garish purple and blue lights. She felt herself drawn to the room by some sort of irresistible force, and, though she knew it was wrong, she was already considering just going in and taking a nap.
It wouldn't be hard to sneak in, and besides, the person who left the door open might not even come back to the room in a while. She already had a half formed plan to hide under the bed and leave before the person who owned the room woke up in the morning. It just sounded too tempting to pass up. Maybe the person wouldn't even notice her... maybe she could just stay for the night... She already had her foot on the doorway, and she smelled the heavy scent of perfume and... something else in the air. It wasn't quite as tempting as GRILLBY'S had been, but the thought of a warm place to stay was enough temptation for a girl who had spent two brutally cold nights out in the streets of Snowdin.
That was it. She was sleeping here, consequences be damned. She stepped fully into the room, desperately wanting to close the door behind her to fully immerse herself in the warmth, but she didn't. The only way she could get away with this was to go completely unnoticed, and closing the door would be like putting up a sign that said "HEY, I'M A CRAZY, WEIRD LADY WHO SNUCK INTO YOUR ROOM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT." No, she would not close the door.
She walked to the bed, too tired to think of anything else, crawled under it, and was asleep within seconds.
Frisk was woken by the feeling of her arm being ripped out of it's socket. She screamed, thrashing about as she was given the abrupt sensation of being yanked through the air and dangled, by her arm no less, feet off the ground.
"Honestly, darling," said a sweet, deep, male voice. "If anyone should be screaming here, it ought to be me. Now, would you mind telling me what you were doing under my bed, sweetheart?"
"I'm so sorry!" she screamed. He dropped her and her feet slammed back into the ground, forcing her to fall down completely. Frisk looked up at her "host" with watery, fearful eyes, and was surprised to find that he was absolutely beautiful.
He was tall, almost unnaturally so, with tawny, beige skin and the most startlingly black hair she had ever seen. His lips were full, and his one visible eye (the other was covered by his hair) was a shock of deep purple. His face was regal, with an aquiline nose and arched, sharp eyebrows. He was the sort of man every woman in the world would want... but if his silvery, sequin dress and fuchsia heels were anything to go by, it wasn't women he wanted looking at him.
She must have looked like a dying fish for her wide eyes and gaping mouth, and to her surprise, he looked almost as shocked to see her as she was to see him. He didn't look nearly so threatening as he had sounded only a moment earlier.
"Aren't you just the most darling thing!" the man squealed, picking Frisk up and wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug that knocked all the wind out of her. She made a weak attempt to pry his arms off her. He abruptly pushed her back and held her at an arm's length, his eyes running her up and down. "You're so cute! What's your name, precious? Are you lost? Do you need a place to stay? How old are you anyway? Oh, it doesn't matter, come here, darling!" He pulled her in for another bone crushing hug, which she resisted.
"Let me go, please! I can't breathe!" she wheezed from his arms. At last, he seemed to notice her distress.
"Oh, sorry, precious. I get a little, how do you say... overexcited sometimes," said the man. "Oh! Where are my manners? I am Mettaton, by the way. What's your name, precious?"
"Um, my name is Frisk. I'm sorry for intruding-"
"Oh, it's no worry, precious. You must have been frozen to death out there! Look at you, you're all wet and everything. Here, let me fetch you a change of clothes. The shower's in there, so just make yourself at home!" With that, Mettaton immediately shoved her off to the bathroom and started rummaging through his drawers for clothes. Frisk was confused.
"Sorry, sir?"
"Just call me Mettaton, precious."
"Mettaton, what- I mean- why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?"
"Because you're cute. And I just ADORE sweet little things like you. Really, I'm doing this for entirely selfish reasons," Mettaton answered. "I'll have your clothes to you in just a moment... just let me find something that might fit you. Go ahead and take a shower, precious! They'll be waiting on the toilet for you when you get out."
Frisk knew she should be suspicious, but at the moment, she didn't really care. That was two people in one day who had been kind to her, and she wasn't about to argue if it meant she could spend the night some place warm. She went into the bathroom and closed the door.
The shower was heavenly- though she was embarrassed to find out just how filthy three days in the street had made her- and, just as Mettaton said, when she got out there were fresh pajamas and even a towel for her to dry off with. She put on the pajamas to discover them wonderfully soft and comfortable, if a little well perfumed. She exited the bathroom and found Mettaton waiting for her, now dressed in pajamas similar to her own. She wondered briefly how Mettaton had found any clothes in her size, he being over a foot taller than her and at least twice her weight.
"Oh, you're just adorable! Just like a little girl!" He hugged her again, more gently than before, and, to her surprise, she hugged him back. "How old are you again, precious? I don't think I caught that before."
"I'm 18," she lied. In truth, she was really about 16.
"Oh?" He looked her up and down. "You look a little younger than that, precious."
She frowned. "I'm 18," she reasserted.
"I wasn't doubting you, precious! You don't have to get so defensive. Did your parents just kick you out? Don't worry, I was in just the same boat at your age. As a matter of fact, I think I was 17 when my parents kicked me out. I'll tell you though, I don't regret it a second of my life, you know that? Never went back either. Oh! There I go again, talking about myself when I haven't even heard your story yet. I'm sure yours is far more interesting than mine. Go ahead, you can tell me anything." Mettaton sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him. She sat.
"Well," she said. "Where should I start?"
"Anywhere you want to, precious."
"Hmm... Well, I don't actually live here for a start- well, I guess I do now, but that's beside the point. I actually come from a little town about 300 miles from here, Dapry."
"Really?"
"Um, yeah. Actually, I lived with my boyfriend until a little while ago," she said. That part was a lie. "He was pretty mean though. He hit me all the time, and was actually a lot older than me, so he drank a lot. I kept staying there because I thought things would get better, and, well, they didn't." That part wasn't. "Finally, I just decided I couldn't take it anymore, so I stole fifty dollars and took a bus ticket to Snowdin." It wasn't completely the truth, but honestly, she didn't think she could get any better. Mettaton looked at her with concerned eyes, and suddenly, she felt very vulnerable.
"You, don't have to worry about that anymore. Just put it all behind you, precious." He wrapped an arm around her, and her heart melted. They stayed like that for a little while, then at last Mettaton said, "We should probably get to bed now."
"Um," she said, suddenly nervous. "Where am I sleeping?"
"Right now, you're sleeping with me, precious. I wasn't exactly expecting you, so I'll have to make arrangements later."
"You'd do that for me?"
"Of course! Now, just lay back and rest your sleepy little head- that's it- just rest."
Frisk rested her head on the pillow as Mettaton pulled fuchsia covers up to her neck, then crawled in after her. It was bliss, and, though she was a little uncomfortable about sleeping next to a man, it was safe. He put an arm around her waist and snuggled her close, and after a little while, when she was almost asleep, she heard him whisper.
"Oh, precious. Don't think this is coming for free..."
Then she drifted off into oblivion.
