"Hey Papyrus, I'm going to Grillby's. Take it easy, kay?" Sans had one padded slipper out the door when he have His either a side long glance, frowning slightly at him. Papyrus had been sitting at their computer for a good while now, watching the screen with hopeful eyes.

2 days ago he made a video on how to make spaghetti, like the famous "Cooking with a killer robot", but had titled it "Cooking with a cool skeleton". He had posted it on UnderTube as fast as he could, precluding it would make him famous so he could meet his idol, Mettaton.

"Okay, Sans." Was the only thing that he said, his voice low and spacious. He was really focused in the computer screen.

"If you stare at that any longer you might hurt your eyes."

"I'm a skeleton. I don't have eyes." Papyrus was still smiling enthusiastically at the computer, and Sans cocked his head when Papyrus didn't react as he usually would to his jokes.

"Um.. Okay. See ya." The door clicked shut as the shorter skeleton left the house, leaving Papyrus alone in the cozy home.

Hours passed, and still nothing happened. Papyrus frowned slightly, some of his excitement drained from the lack of activity on his video.

"Well, I guess fame doesn't happen that fast.." He mumbled, standing up slowly and stretching as he pushed back the computer chair.

"Oh well, I guess I can make some spaghetti!" Papyrus smiled at that and started to walk to the kitchen, his glove covered hands swaying at his sides as he did. When he was in the other room, he peered quickly around the corner at the desk across the living room longingly, before shaking his head.

"Okay, Papyrus. Just ignore it for a bit. People will like it eventually, it's just hasn't been discovered yet, that's all. Your too great to ignore!" He laughed and turned around, reaching out to open the fridge. He paused an turned around again, looking to the computer bash fully.

"Okay, okay. Just making sure. Now, spaghetti." He took out a lot from the fridge and put it on the stove, turning it on to hear the cold contents. As a small flame flickered to life beneath the pot, Papyrus glanced worriedly to the living room, the computer out of his view in his current position.

"Don't look. There's no need. Just make spaghetti." He told himself under his breath, giving a heavy sigh as he grabbed a wooden fork. His fingers fiddled with it for  a moment, before a sound had Papyrus flying across the room to look at the computer again.

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The monster realized with a pang that the sound had been from his phone, sitting on the desk next to the monitor. It was nearly dead when he grabbed it with a sigh. Hanging his head, he slowly dragged his boots across the carpet, crestfallen, to the kitchen again.

He finished warming his spaghetti, dished himself a plate, and went to the table to eat it, looking up long I'll at the computer screen periodically. When he was done he returned the pot to the fridge, putting his plate on the counter next to the extremely tall sink.

As he padded through the room once more towards the stairs, he glanced over his shoulder weakly, his eyes heavy with sadness. Still nothing. He lowered his head even further, hunching his shoulders and almost tucking into his scarf. 

He went up the stairs and turned off the light, casting the house in darkness except for the glow of the desktop. Without turning back he merely went into his bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.

As he tuck himself into bed, plugging in his phone to charge it for the night, the computer screen refreshed itself and something had changed in it.

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