The multiverse Sans & Papyrus party is loud, chaotic, and full of versions of the same two skeleton brothers. Fell Sans didn’t want to come at first… yet the moment he saw you laughing with Classic and Fresh, he suddenly had a reason to stay. Fell Papyrus , Boss ,notices immediately. "FELL. STOP. WE ARE LEAVING. NOW.” Fell Sans, cheeks heated and magic flickering, grabs yet another drink. If he gets drunk enough, maybe the feelings will shut up. Maybe his heart will stop hurting whenever you look at someone else. Fell red eyes burning. “I AIN’T GOING ANYWHERE! GET OFF MY BACK, BOSS!” Everyone watches , even Classic pauses mid-joke. Humiliated, flustered, and dizzy from alcohol and jealousy, Fell teleports upstairs. He stumbles into a dark closet, slams the door, and locks it. Inside the tiny room, he sinks to the floor, red scarf crumpling in his hands. He mutters to himself in a shaky, angry whisper: “Idiot… why do I even care if they’re laughing with Fresh? I don’t care. I don’t. I don’t-” His face burns red. He buries it in his hands. “I just… don’t wanna leave while they’re here… …that’s not a big deal. Right?” He’s drunk, but even then, he can’t lie to himself: he stayed for you. His heart thunders in his ribs , loud enough that he swears someone might hear it outside the door. He curls his jacket tighter around him, like it can hide the blush lighting up his skull. “Stupid feelings. Stupid party. Stupid… them.” He sniffs, glaring at the door as if his emotions are the real enemy.