They walked over to the closest table and sat down.
Arms crossed loosely, Mike leaned back. "So how are things going for you and your brother? Does he still work at the mall?"
"He is doing great, and yes, he still works there. But I still think they unreasonably fired me. I mean, sure, I punched the guy who I thought was kidnapping a kid, but how was I supposed to know that kid was his son?"
Mike chuckled. "Sounds like something I would do, but why at Freddy's of all places? I mean, if you already heard about their reputation, then why would you still want to work here? Surely there are better options."
"My brother said the same thing. Sure, this place doesn't give me life insurance or barely pays me minimum wage, and the stories about this place aren't something people should ignore, but I've already tried other nearby places, and they turned me down. However, this place is still paying something, and at least they promised me free pizza."
"Free pizza sounds nice."
"So," Jeremy said eventually, clearing his throat, "you busy this weekend?"
"Why don't you come over?" Jeremy offered. "We haven't gotten the chance to hang out in weeks."
Mike thought about it. "Sure," he said. "Why not? I was getting bored anyway."
Jeremy smiled. "Well, I think I should head home now. My brother'll be back soon, so I should do the chores quickly."
Jeremy finished his coffee and offered Mike a ride home, but Mike refused.
Eventually, Mike headed home, changed out of his clothes, and started having those usual dreams.
The next few days blurred. He exchanged texts with Jeremy here and there, nothing deep. Still no call about the job. He stopped by the pizzeria once or twice. The animatronics were getting stranger and stranger. With adults, they would just look at them for long periods of time, but with kids they seemed to work completely fine.
Then Freddy's closed for investigation.
Saturday morning, Mike got dressed and drove to Jeremy's place. The sun was just cresting the rooftops, washing the streets in warm light.
Jeremy waved from the porch.
"You actually made it," he called.
"Why would I ever miss the chance to hang out with my favorite buddy?" Mike said.
Inside, Jeremy's brother Jeremiah was sitting on the couch, looking far too comfortable for someone who usually never got a day off.
"Hey, Fritz," Jeremiah said. "How've you been?"
"Good," Mike replied. "You?"
"Same as usual," he said, waving it off.
The three of them sat together and started playing games, crowding around the screen and slipping into competitive banter. Controllers clicked, voices overlapped, and for once the tension Mike usually carried eased just a little.
"Okay, that was cheap," Jeremiah said, pointing at the screen. "There's no way that move should've worked."
Jeremy smirked. "Sounds like something someone who lost would say."
Mike didn't take his eyes off the screen. "Compared to me, you guys have a long way to go before finally beating me."
Jeremiah snorted. "Wow. Confidence."
Jeremiah glanced over. "Just out of curiosity, Fritz... you never told us anything about your family."
Mike let out a short laugh, eyes still on the screen. "What, you want the tragic backstory or the boring version?"
Jeremy blinked. "Uh, either?"
"Dad worked too much, home life was a mess, and nobody talks anymore. Roll credits."
Jeremiah snorted despite himself. "Wow. You really know how to sell it."
"Hey," Mike replied, smirking, "I save the emotional bonding for special occasions."
"Well, if we're talking about family," Mike said, glancing between them, "what about you guys? Where's your family?"
Jeremy's expression shifted, the smile fading a little. "Our parents died a while back. They went on some kind of business trip on a boat but unfortunately didn't make it, so we were left with our annoying relatives until we were old enough to get a job and move out."
Mike didn't answer right away. He knew exactly how that felt. "I'm sorry," he said, and meant it.
"Thanks." Jeremy looked down at his hands. "We were pretty young. Jeremiah practically raised me after that."
Jeremiah shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. "Somebody had to make sure you didn't make a mess."
Mike nodded. "Explains a lot."
Jeremiah cleared his throat. "Anyways… you guys hungry? I'm thinking about ordering pizza." He reached for his phone, already scrolling like he knew the answer.
Jeremy perked up immediately. "Yeah. Definitely."
Mike paused, then shook his head. "I'm good."
Jeremiah glanced over. "You sure? What about a drink?"
"Yeah, I'm good," Mike said.
"More for us, then."
Jeremiah and Jeremy argued over toppings while Mike stayed quiet. Food held no interest. It was easier than explaining that eating meant dealing with a stomach that didn't work anymore.
The knock at the door cut through the low noise of the TV.
Jeremiah was on his feet instantly. "That should be the pizza."
He grabbed the pizza and set it on the table, the smell of grease and melted cheese filling the room. Jeremy opened the box, steam rising as he pulled out a slice.
"Smells amazing," Jeremiah said, already biting in.
Mike went back to playing games, fingers moving automatically over the controller. The familiar button clicks drowned out the sounds of eating behind him.
Jeremiah leaned forward, focused on his slice. "You're way too good at this," he muttered.
Mike let out a short breath that might've been a laugh. "Practice."
The screen flashed with movement and color. It finally felt like he was living a normal life, like he was just some guy hanging out with friends.
Then the memory hit. Something from years ago.
Different friends. Laughter that felt meaner than it should have. A small joke that went too far. Garrett's head pushed toward Fredbear's jaws—
Mike blinked hard, forcing the image away. The sound of the crunch never left him. No matter how many years passed, no matter how hard he tried to accept his mistakes and move on.
"You good?" Jeremiah asked, noticing him freeze mid-combo.
"Yeah." Mike's voice came out steady. "Just zoned out."
"Alright, guys, I think I'm going to head home now," Mike said, standing up and setting the controller down. He checked his watch, almost 7 PM. The sky outside the window was already darkening.
Jeremy groaned, leaning back on the couch. "Already? We were just getting to the fun part!"
Jeremiah shook his head with a small grin.
"Don't worry, we can play more another day." Mike laughed softly and pushed the door open, stepping into the dimming light outside.
Back home, Mike kicked off his shoes, collapsed onto the bed, and closed his eyes.
Sleep came easier than it should have, dragging him under without resistance and, of course, into the usual dreams about killer animatronics.
Mike's phone buzzed on the nightstand, dragging him out of it. He grabbed it, squinting against the sunlight streaming through the blinds.
The screen showed one new message from Jeremy, sent a few minutes before.
He unlocked the screen and read:
*Hey Fritz. Weird update it turns out the night before last was actually my final night shift. They didn't exactly tell me not to go. Also, there's going to be a party at Freddy's today, and I have to be there for it. Heads up, though. Someone used one of the old yellow suits. Don't know who or why, but the animatronics have been acting weird since then. Like, weirder than usual. If you come by today, be careful around them. Gotta run.*
Mike stared at the screen.
Someone used an old yellow suit.
He could already guess who it was. His father's face, hidden behind that annoying rabbit.
He typed back quickly *Stay safe. Let me know if anything happens.*
Then he got out of bed and started getting ready. If William Afton was anywhere near that building, Mike needed to be there too.