marilyn casteris [ d2 . fin

It's tragic, truthfully, of all the drab darlings down here, I'm the one forced to be the upmost perfect. Twenty four hours of planning and organizing the next season of Underground's Next Marilyn, and designing the right wing of my room with only the latest aesthetic coming from your's truly. Right now, fairy lights are in, and cat eye glasses are out - I'm looking at you, Myra. Mostly because she refuses to exchange bed rooms; her's has a much nicer view of the stars. The little whore probably does it to spite me for not donating towards her spider-home construction project, but you know what darling? 

Who needs stars when you're the biggest one around!

That's right, I'm the biggest, greatest, most talented anddd most talented of all the undergrounds. And, oh, don't forget the most legilicious! I'm the fan's favorite on nearly every show broadcasting on the Marilyn Networks, and my poster (and room number, darling!) can be found on nearly every corridor. My stations have at least 3, no, 4 loyal followers and I adore each and every one of them. 

Currently, it's only my Napsy-poo, Papyrus and Alphys; occasionally Sans, too. There's nothing wrong with a little bias either, Napsy is often on my Marilyn 06 broadcast (which is right after my Marilyn 05 broadcast, of course!   )  When he's awake that is, it's so hard to be blood related to such a slacker, but of course I love him to death and back - I was the one who gave Nathan his name after. 

He's a simple soul, a ghost of a child, but he's a sweetie; my number one rule is that he's always in fashion. Of course, only somebody related to me could win three consecutive seasons of Sleeping Beauty, my aging reality show about modelling in your sleep! Naps is a natural, and it cheers him up waking up to another crown. 

I guess victory is just in the blood, like trash is in the Montesquieu's. 

Oh, and of course, I'm the leading face of Haunte, Napsy's modeling agency. It's an exclusive thing, so as of yet I'm the only model as well, but ever since he's gotten that Polaroid from Asgore, I've been trying to launch his corporation. "It'd be the grandest, darling!" I say, repeatedly mind you, "every new face in the undergrounds would absolutely die to work with you even once!"

But damn is that child humble. Or shy. And with our godly genes of fabulous hair - courtesy of my new hair spray line, MariMane, - and luscious legs, I'm surprised he doesn't cultivate his natural beauty more so than I force him too. He'd never make it out in the human world, where the stars are so further away than just those drawn onto closed windows by the Montesisters. 

That's the dream, the human world.

Really, I've always believed my fate is somewhere out of this building where the world is much more like the glam on tv and fashion isn't just me driven. Mister and Missus Capitol would have nothing on these legs, I grew them myself, ha! Ohhh yessss, I would have a real crown and not just 3, or 4 followers, but five! Or more! Many more, darling, I would captive, with the world's focus like a wedding ring around my finger until I'm old, yet still beautiful, and am laying on a red velvet rug in front of a grand staircase, drinking red wine with my left hand, as I wipe away tears with a single stack of real money - not that fake shit Sans created - as I'm told my husband died a gentle age of 82, and I'm to live the rest of my long and healthy life as a glamorous widow with only his millions to finance.   

But I'd settle for much less, obviously. To begin with, oh darling no, I won't stand for my life to end on a dreary note, but to begin with I'd be fine with something less diamond. I, for one, love the games, unlike many of the others in the undergrounds. Oh, the attention, the attraction! It's all the rage currently, most of the latest magazines Asgore fetches for me, the love, are always updated with the last speak of the victor. How I'd kill to be in the games, with every single column discussing my eyebrows and my latest kill, so what if a few people have to die? 

That's called show business, darling. 

[  what's missing? oh, a human soul! ]