The gig seemed like a dream, I was able to work with such an amazing actor as Mettaton and I would have complete creative control over the project. Far from a dream this job was, as I was to learn, it was much greater. I had decided on an adaptation of the most glamorous thing I could think of, an original story by some author I had known for decades known for his roles in writing THE glam rock documentary, you know the one. We were going to get away with the biggest glamrock opera of the century, then I started to fall in love with our talent.

Every day, in and out, I'd be up close and personal with Mettaton, giving him personal ques, telling him to move a certian way, getting him to make the right expression for each scene, telling my cinematographer to frame the scene so he was placed right on the rule of thirds, making sure every scene he was in was the most astonishing, awe inducing, beautiful scene I could possibly direct, even pushing other actors to more background roles just to get our lead more screen time. I can't count how many times I found myself just personally coaching the beautiful robot.

Then, one day, he approached me after a long shift of grinding away at a single scene over and over. He was dressed in a silver and red dress, adorned with purple and gold makeup, looking as if he had been gilded by the phloraxians of the opera themselves, his flexible robot arms and stunning legs were adorned with only the finest of artificial plastic jewelery crafted daily by our makeup department. I was looking at the script trying to figure out just the right words to write to get the effect I was looking for, music composer by my side, when he declared "Oh my, Anon, you sure do look glamorous today."

I had no idea how to respond to the robot I'd been crushing on this whole time, so I muttered out "Oh, why, thank you Mettaton, I hope your crew is treating you well."

He, in complete confidence, responded "Oh they sure are Anon, I wouldn't know what to do without you though, how about we go out for a date sometime? Hmm? I quite like you."

Flustered, I responded, "well, my schedule is filled up with shootings, I'm solid booked for several months, but I suppose I could, m-make a date tonight."

"No need to stutter, I, the great Mettaton, will make sure it's a date worth going to!" the coy and confident robot responded.

"How about Sushi Ginza Onodera? I hear their octopus is to die for." I replied in a hushed tone, complete with a blushed face.

"Allright, what time then my dear?" the robot sung out in glee.

"I'll call right away, just stay right there." I stated boldly as I ran to call the restaurant.



I had arrived to his driveway in my chauffeured ghost and opened the suicide door to answer his gate with a "Hello Mr. Mettaton, It's your date."

I was met with a message over the intercom of "No need to call me Mr, friends call me Mettaton" followed by an opening of the locked steel gate with emblems of MTT. CO. forged in each support. I sat back down in the ghost, and rode to the front door of his strange estate. The whole house, and every plant, was shaped after his body in his less glamorous square form, coated in gold and purple paint with the deltarune embossed in each and every corner, even the very doors to his mansion were in the shape of his face in that form. I exited the car, and walked to his door, but before I could knock the door swung open revealing a quite handsome robot.

He decided to dress in a pure silk kemono with silver cherry blossoms overlaid on a deep blue and red diamond pattern. His makeup was to die for, a truly awe inspiring yet simple gold and white that seemed to reflect the very sun setting behind us.

"Quite the glamorous sunset, huh anon?" he said as he stepped outside and closed the door behind himself.

"Oh, so it is, I hadn't even noticed it until now. That's sure beautiful, but not quite as stunning as you, Mettaton." I replied confident in my flattery.

"Oh my, not even to our date and you're hitting me up with some flattery? Quite the move anon" he responded gleefully "well, no use dilly dallying, we have a restaurant to visit, oh, is that your ride?" he asked as he peered over the pearl white ghost. "Quite the, how do you say, ironic choice?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled at the last remark.

"Oh, nothing" he responded, looking a bit disappointment. "This way then?" he responded pointing to the rear passenger side.

"Right away." I responded, walking there, opening the door and letting him in.



We arrived just on time, not too late, not too early. I exited the car, and opened his door to help him out. As he grabbed my hand, my heart began to race just a few beats per minute faster as I realized we were actually going out on a date.

"So this is the place? Quite the restaurant." he responded with a grin on his stunning face. "I'll be the judge to see if it's good as my chain of MTT restaurants" he added, seemingly jokingly with a slight chuckle.

"I'll be waiting on that judgement, my Mettaton." I replied as we began to walk arm in arm to the door.


The meal itself wasn't much special, but just sitting there, watching my star, the light of my life enjoying himself was more than enough to put a smile on my face. The way he hesitated at every bite, the gleam in his eyes, the sheer wonder and the joy when he finally took a bite of his squid or a bite of sushi was enough to make my heart melt. I barely touched my meal the whole time, content enough to just lose myself in his shining eyes.

"Oh my anon, you haven't touched your food and I've already finished mine, mind if I have a bite?" He asked politely.

"Go on ahead my Mettaton." I responded lovingly.

"Ohhh thank you Anon, my lo-, friend" he replied hastily.



Our drive through LA to his house again was mostly uneventful, however the calm yellow lights reflecting off the just wet from a gentle rain street and the crisp blue light of the moon reflecting through the ghosts windows made for quite the romantic mood. The ghosts starlight roofliner didn't hurt, in fact, I was pointing out the constellations it was based on to my beautiful when our hands brushed.

"Oh, anon, mind if I?" he asked gently in his robotic voice.

"Go ahead my love." I replied as he grabbed my hand as we both stared at the artificial constellation. It was shaking, as if he were distraught emotionally, though, he wasn't crying.

As we arrived at his place, he made a simple request, that I stayed for a while. We laid down together on a couch, my arms in his while late night television played on his massive television placed just between two massive windows overlooking LA and the rain that was pitter pattering on both. He buried his head in my chest, while I listened to him and his tearless robotic cries as we both drifted into a deep sleep.