Intern {Five Nights at Freddy's Fanfiction}

36) Please don't...

Long story short....Mike was drunk. Well, maybe not drunk.

Mike was pretty tipsy.

I had dealt with this kind of thing before. I mean, there had been many nights where Zamora had come home singing stripper songs and almost breaking her ankles trying to dance to said songs. Yeah, not the most ideal way to spend most of my nights, but...this was different.

Unlike Zamora, who could be a pretty badass drunk, Mike was...odd.

He was the flirty type.

I had dealt with guys flirting with me...but holy shit did this suck.

"Mike...no. Go get dressed. We have work remember." I frowned, pushing him away in annoyance. The smell of alcohol wasn't the thing that made me feel uncomfortable...it was his smile.

It looked like Randy's grin mixed in with a creepy marionette/puppet thing.

"You're freaking me out. Go get dressed." I said more firmly, crossing my arms.

"But-"

"Nope. Go. Now."

"Fine."

As he disappeared into his bedroom I couldn't help but think about what I was going to do. If Mike was impaired and couldn't 'mentor' me like he was supposed to...we were screwed. Seeing as though he had lasted through three weeks of continuous shit I knew he could do the job. But inebriated? Not a chance.

I would have to be the one calling the shots.

Fuck.

"I'm done!" Mike called, stepping into the doorway. I awkwardly laughed when I realized his shirt wasn't buttoned up properly and revealed a good amount of his chest. To be honest, that wasn't the reason I was so amused.

"Mike, stop trying to be sexy. You look really stupid right now." I snickered, rolling my eyes as he struck a few poses. He continued to make a few stupid remarks about how much I was enjoying his act or whatever before I pushed him away and scolded him until he buttoned up his shirt.

"I know you know what you're doing Mike. Only drunk people have no control over their actions." I frowned, feeling a bit betrayed.

He was being flirty on purpose.

"Fine. You're really killing my buzz Eleanor." He frowned, buttoning up his shirt. With a roll of my eyes I exited his apartment with his car keys in hand.

What? I wasn't going to let him drive on the verge of being drunk.

"C'mon Mike. I'm being serious." I frowned, twirling the keychain on my index finger. He sighed, grabbed his hat, and followed close behind me.

* * * *

"Something feels off." I muttered, gingerly opening the front door to the pizzeria. We were about fifteen minutes earlier than usual and I was surprised we hadn't run into Randy...yet. Usually he was waiting for us or getting ready to leave. Since I wasn't sure if he was still around I tried to be as quiet as possible. Thankfully Mike caught on and didn't slam the door behind us.

Oh well.

"It always feels that way around here." Mike yawned, hopefully sobering up. He wouldn't be much help to me if he was babbling over the smallest things.

"Yeah, I guess it does." I agreed, peeking around the corner. Much to my dismay Randy was standing in front of the show stage. I noticed a smear of something black on his cheek along with an item in his hand.

"Haha. A good job if I do say so myself." he bragged to himself, glancing at the object he was holding.

A wrench.