Chapter Text
You’re worthless,
a failure,
a leech to our family.
Those words echoed through your head as the paintbrush slithered through the canvas, coating the white empty space with a shade of blue. Like any other day, business was not good today. Hence, you’re here, standing on the cliff facing the vast ocean.
You had a perfect life in front of you,
Every ripple, every wave of the waters, you captured it all with a tight hold on the paintbrush.
I don’t get why you threw it away for that stupid career
A speckle of white, a shine on the waters… your vision got hazy as you tried to blink away the tears building up in the corner of your eyes. You’re a wreck, a mess. You should’ve listened to your mother and been that perfect child she wanted.
Your relationship with your mother has been rocky. Everything you do, she criticizes. She pushes you into countless extra programs after school, whether it's music classes or even martial arts.
Yet she always means well, always wanting the best for you… she cares and loves you, and you do too.
But maybe she’s right, this is not suited for you.
A puff of air escaped from your nostrils. Glancing back at the crimson skies and the setting sun, doubt began to bubble up in you. What if there’s business tomorrow? What if I miss the chance of someone actually liking my work? But alas, you thought about this a year before when you wanted to quit. These thoughts were like bait hovering above you while you endlessly chased after it in circles.
Dead leaves crunched under your shoes as you began walking to the edge of the cliff to contemplate your life choices. Blades of grass tickled your arms as you sat on the ledge, swaying your feet. By now, the sun was shyly hiding behind a thin blanket of clouds, with rays poking through it.
Please… don’t leave. I’ve always wanted the best for you.
You puncture a hole in your unfinished artwork and tear it, scattering the remains of your outburst around you.
But of course, you picked them all up after discarding them.
You’re back at the cliffs again, this time nearer to the bottom, closer to the beach and, most importantly, where people would usually pass by. This will be your last, you have dropped the prices significantly compared to when you started. Your heart thumped against your chest as you stood there idly waiting for any potential customers.
Your feet were beginning to hurt… but no one came. Welp, another day with no business then!
You took out your sketchbook and flipped through the used pages. Scenery drawings changed to humans you would see, to monsters, to a certain bubbly skeleton... and it stopped there… The pages after it were the same skeleton drawn differently. It was not like you knew the skeleton personally, you two would just wave at each other and continue with your day.
His was saving and helping people,
…yours was waiting for people.
A huge portion of the pages were filled with him, and you don’t know why. It started one day when you two waved for the millionth time, you randomly thought about drawing him. And ever since, you drew him during your free time…
He had that certain charm to him. Always wearing that blue scarf, always having a huge smile on his skull, always cracking up puns… always– you’ll get it. You admired him. For holding up his smile even when humans pushed him away in disgust, despite him saving them. Being so eager to help, or when his eye lights turn into stars when he is excited to the point it was so comical.
You wished you were like him. Strong and helpful.
Your hand stopped at the final page available– how fitting… picking up your pencil, you already had plans for how to end your final chapter. Your pencil glided through the paper with ease as you quickly sketched the figure.
Not surprisingly, no one came to your booth. You had all the time to finish the drawing. And before you knew it, it was done. The basking sun had already started to set, families were starting to leave. Another day without any business…
Your mom was right, you're losing more than what you're earning.
Looking down at the final page, you can't help but be reminded of your past failures. The pages fluttered, making crisp noises as you flipped through them one last time. A journey from your rough days to the Monsters resurfacing to your little admiration of one skeleton. It's all in here.
The cover of the sketchbook was worn from the salty air of the beach, time, and love. It was time to end it all. For your last day, you knew what you were planning to do: talk to that skeleton.
Walking closer to the water, closer to where all the main activities were, closer to him. The sand beneath you gave way, letting your sandals sink with every step.
There he was, on his lifeguard chair, high above the rest of the beach. He was hunched on his seat, eyelights bright as he paid close attention to the water and the people.
You shuffled awkwardly with the battered sketchbook, catching his attention. The skeleton's eyelights glowed brighter as he noticed you, waving excitedly, which you returned with a fraction of his excitement.
“NICE TO SEA YOU, FRIEND! WHAT BRINGS YOU HERE TODAY?” He shifted closer to the side of the chair, his smile ever so radiant. This was his first time talking to you, and he called you his friend.
Your heart squeezed, this wasn't just admiration, was it?
“I… I wanted to give you this.” You tore out the last paper of the sketchbook, the most recent drawing of him. The lifeguard post was too high up, you had to tiptoe to hand the drawing. The skeleton tilts his head in confusion. His hand briefly grazed with yours, it was smooth like the bone models you have touched in your medical school.
You watch his face apprehensively, hand fidgeting with the loops of your book. He paused, his other hand came up, holding the paper in front of him. Sweat began building up on your palms, his face still holding no reaction…
Then it hit, his blue eyes lit up into big stars, and his permanent smile, which seemed to never get any bigger, did too. The skeleton snapped his head towards you abruptly, causing you to flinch back. “WOWZERS, FRIEND! YOU MANAGED TO CAPTURE MY MAGNIFICENCE!! THIS IS FIN-TASTIC!!”
“BUT, WHY DID YOU GIVE ME THIS?” He lowered the paper, his big smile still present on his face. He clamped his mouth with both of his hands– paper still in his hold. “NOT THAT I’M UNGRATEFUL OR ANYTHING!! I WAS JUST WONDERING!” He shook his hands animatedly, adding to make his words... less hurtful.
“No, no, it’s alright!” You closed your eyes and laughed wholeheartedly at his franticness over a small issue. This was the first in a long time. The skeleton stopped his movements and looked at you with wide eyes. Your laughter died down. “Consider this a farewell gift.”
“W-WHAT?! WHY?” He visibly deflated, the stars in his eye socket tuned back into rings.
“I think it’s time to move on.. I’m not making any profits.” Your hand unconsciously shifted to hold the top of your sketchbook. Looking back to the horizon and the sun setting, it reminded you of yesterday. “I hadn’t had anyone buy my works since… 2 months ago.” You’ve waited for too long, hoped for too long, and now. It’s time to let go.
Your eyelids fluttered shut as you turned away. “Well, I guess this is goodbye.. I hope I’ll see you again, Lifeguard.” The sand dragged beneath you, some getting between your toes. How unfortunate, you had forgotten to ask for his name. Now he would forever be labelled as ‘The Skeleton’ in your memories.
The mini-booth stood right by you, going through its many different phases alongside you. You've changed its design multiple times, thinking that it wasn't ‘eye-catching’ enough. But alas, it was you who couldn't bring customers in. Eventually you gave in, leaving the design as it is.
Here it lies, worn with love. It would be the last time you're dismantling it.
Forgotten paintings you threw right under the booth, the ocean, flowers, or even couples you have painted for but stopped when they changed their minds. Those were the more recent works you've made, your home had no room to house anymore of these so you would chuck them along with the mini booth.
Feeling the dried paint and every bump on the painting of stars, you couldn't help but miss these days of hope.
When are you coming back? I miss you…
Time shouldn't be wasted, you ripped the sign off. Painting is stupid, drawing is stupid, you're stupi– There was a quiet shuffle behind you. You saw the shadow of that person pick up one of your discarded works.
“This Is Beautiful.” Your eyes met his, the Lifeguard, the Skeleton. His eyelights were soft, in that beautiful shade of blue you adore. The light outlined his features, his eyes were the ones that caught your attention. “Your Works Are Beautiful.” He focused on the other pieces of work littered around your work station.
“You're just saying that to make me feel good...” You frowned, picking up the stray pieces of work he had seen, stacking them up within your arms. Holding onto the last piece on the sandy floor, his hand caught yours.
“To Me, They Are Remarkable And That Others Would Think So Too.” He held your work close to his chest, his other hand was still on yours. “You're Just In The Wrong Place. Maybe Somewhere Else In This World, Others Will Come To Appreciate Your Works.” He gave you a toothy grin, making your heart flutter and do a little flip.
“How About This, I Buy This Work And You Can Use This Money To Continue Your Business.” He pulled out a pouch and nudged gently at your closed hand. You let out a small ‘oof’ when you felt the actual weight of the pouch.
“I Wish You The Best Of Luck In Your Journeys! I'm Shore We'll meet again!!”
“Wait! Before you go, will you tell me your name?” You called out, finally remembering to get his name.
“Right! Silly Me!! I AM THE MAGNIFICENT SANS!!” He flicked his free arm and posed heroically with his cape flowing behind him. You chuckled, telling him your name next.
Sans struck another pose, muttering your name a few times, mainly to himself. “WELL THEN, FRIEND! IT IS TIME WE SHELL PART WAYS!” He waved enthusiastically as he would with you before during the mornings. “UNTIL NEXT TIME!”
You watched as he hoisted your painting under his armpit, laughing as he walked further and further away from your booth– with his loud ‘MWEHEHEHE’ echoing through the beach.
Taking a closer look at the pouch, you realise it was a similar shade to his scarf, if not the same. You turned the pouch side to side, analysing it.
There it said ‘EMERGENCY FUNDS!’ Huh… Your lips curved up unexpectedly.