𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡

"𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙖𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪,

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙣.

𝙏𝙤 𝘽𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙝𝙚𝙢, 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙

𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩'𝙫𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪."

You've never been inside of a security office before. It was the first bullet on a long list of places you never wanted to end up under any circumstances; a list that was invented because Vanessa had a very bad habit of issuing vague and threatening warnings about leaving your station for too long.

Still, you knew that there were eight small security offices sprinkled throughout the facility – one for each major attraction and then some. Michael was stationed at the one wedged between the loading dock and the laundry room down underneath the atrium. You always suspected that he chose it specifically because he hated people. This had yet to be disproved.

Your fingers were cold – latched around the jar of candy that you stole from your kitchen counter that morning on your way out the door. At first, you hesitated, hand half-reached to grab a handful of sweets for your purse like you usually did. Something compelled you to stop, but it was something different altogether that told you to grab the entire glass jar instead.

When you marched into the security office, Michael was sitting there with his feet propped up on the desk. There were cameras flickering across a series of stacked monitors, but the screens might as well have been completely black the moment you stepped into the room.

You were always too good at that – stealing his attention. It never scared him. Just made him all the more curious about you. It scared the thing inside him, though. Scared the hell out of it. It hated the way it made his chest thunder whenever you appeared, but that was just all the more reason to keep a closer eye on you.

With much more force than intended, you slammed the jar of candy onto the desk beside a dusty-looking keyboard before taking a definitive step back. Michael dragged his eyes away from the jar to inspect your face curiously before slowly uncrossing his legs.

"𝙂𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮.

'𝘾𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪,

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪,

𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮, 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚."

"Thank you," you chirped, wringing your hands and twisting up the hem of your uniform skirt. After a moment or two of thick, quiet tension, you added a soft; 'I'm sorry' without really knowing what you were apologizing for.

You knew that something happened that night, under the flickering street lamp in the otherwise empty parking lot. You also knew that something way worse could have happened if Michael hadn't been there to stop it. But that was the extent of what you were able to process so far. You were sorry for making him step in. You were sorry for not realizing the danger sooner. You were sorry for not being able to protect yourself.