Charlie blew a strand of hair from her eyes, focusing hard on the broken animatronic. Well...sort of broken, anyway. It appeared to be functional, but was completely mangled, so much so that some of the employees recently started to call it "the Mangle". Kids did not treat Toy Foxy well, but Charlie was determined to fix this. She would get the animatronic up and running again and be sure that no one could pull it apart again.
"Now let's see here..." she mumbled to herself as she worked her wrench around the machine's neck. "I think I can make this more stable, if I just—"
"Charlie?" a sudden voice said, startling her. With a gasp, she jerked backwards. The wrench went flying from her hand. It bashed into the wall behind her and fell harmlessly to the floor. However, it had been inches away from hitting the man who'd entered.
"Oh! Sorry, Dad." Charlie rose to her feet and turned around, sending him a sheepish smile. "Didn't notice you there...ha, ha."
With a deep sigh, Henry pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know what I've said about the animatronics. You are not to mess with them, without my supervision and permission."
"Well, yes, I know that," she said, "but I thought for once it would be alright. And, besides, technically I wasn't messing with it, I was repairing it. See? The poor thing's gotten all mangled again." She motioned towards Toy Foxy. "I think I correctly repaired a thing or two, though. Want to take a look?"
"I suppose." He approached and proceeded to examine Charlie's work. She swelled with pride at the impressed look that swept across his features. "Hm. Good work, I knew your training was paying off."
"Yes, it is," she said.
"You're certainly following in my footsteps." He patted her on the shoulder. "However, my point still stands. You cannot do such things without at least letting me know before. These animatronics are more dangerous than they look. You could get seriously injured, Charlie, and that's something I would never want."
"I know, I know." She glanced away. "I just feel like sometimes you're a little too protective of me. I'm growing up, Dad. I can handle myself more than you think."
"Oh, I know." He rubbed her shoulder. "I'm only looking out for your safety. Now why don't you leave the rest of the work to William, the other workers, and I?"
Fighting back the urge to roll her eyes, Charlie nodded and left the room. With a wistful sigh, she plopped down at one of the tables, where she glanced about the area. The pizzeria had not yet opened, but already she could smell the classic, Freddy Fazbear pizza cooking up in the kitchen. She was not comforted by the familiar scent, however.
Dad isn't letting me work on the animatronics as much as I'd like, she thought. If only I...well...I, oh, I don't know. Maybe I'm just being too overeager. I mean, I don't know everything about engineering just yet. She shifted her eyes to the table where she drummed her fingers listlessly. Still though...
"Charlotte, aren't you supposed to be headed for your job now?" Henry breezed into the room, sending her a quick glance.
"Oh, right!" She jumped to her feet. Recently, she'd taken up a job at the diner downtown. Until she became a professional technician, it was where she worked. "Bye, Dad!" She waved over her shoulder as she darted out of the building. After quickly sliding into her vehicle, she hastily drove it through town and all the way to the diner. Once inside, she promptly set to work, hoping nobody noticed her slight tardiness.
She spent the next hour or so taking orders and serving up food. Shortly after noon, she felt winded and wanted nothing more than to go back to the pizzeria. Perhaps she would be able to convince her father to let her work on that animatronic again. After all, he'd praised her work, hadn't he? Maybe he could sometime even hire her as an official employee. Oh, how she would love that!
Humming to herself, Charlie cleared off one of the tables of the busy restaurant. She stopped short as a new customer entered, his hands shoved in his pockets and his head hung low. She immediately recognized him as Michael, whom she hadn't seen in a few days, not since they reunited. Though tempted to call once or twice, she hadn't done so just yet. But now that he was at her job, it seemed to be the perfect opportunity to strike up another conversation. Having him back in her life made her happy, and there was something about his constant lonesome and exhausted expression that made her want to help him.
Charlie hastened to the kitchen, where she handed off the dirtied dishes. As she headed back into the eating area, she scanned it for Michael. He sat near the back of the diner, silently examining the area. Retrieving a menu, she strolled over.
"Hey, stranger." She smiled and held it out to him.
"Hmm?" he said, blue eyes un-hazing flicking up at her, having been zoned out. "Oh." A slight smile crossed his own lips. "Charlie. Wasn't expecting to see you so soon. You...work here?"
"For now." She nodded.
"But I take it you plan to work at the pizzeria?" He took the menu from her.
"Yeah, hopefully one day," she said. "Unfortunately, I don't think I can talk for long, but I'll be serving you." She paused, taking notice of the deep shadows beneath his eyes. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Mhm," he replied, flipping open the memory and focusing on it. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason." She turned away. "Just wondering. I'll be back as soon as you're ready to order." And she was. Within a few minutes, she returned and took Michael's order. "I've been meaning to call you," she said as Michael handed the menu back to her. "I mean, if I could get your number, anyway. I planned to ask William or my dad." She cleared her throat, fiddling with the menu while she simply forced out the words she'd been dying to say since they met again. "But, anyway, my point is some of my friends and I are going to a bowling alley for, well, um...fun, I guess. I was wondering if maybe you'd like to come."
Michael paused, visibly processing this. "Oh." He blinked up at her. "Well...I guess I maybe could, but..." He trailed off.
"Just think about it," she said. "I'll go turn in your order." She headed away, inwardly kicking herself. Perhaps it hadn't been the best idea to invite him to something like that. She knew even in the past Michael had been rather sensitive to crowds of people he didn't know, if not also incredibly rude and stubborn over such situations. Besides, they had only just seen each other again, after several years. What was she thinking?
Her break came shortly after she served him. When she mentioned it as she brought his food, to her surprise, he offered that she stay with him at his table. She readily accepted, glad he'd been the first to suggest such a thing. It seemed they truly were getting to know each other again, and she rather liked this. Perhaps her request hadn't been so stupid and uncalled for, after all.
"So—" she settled across from him with her own lunch— "this is nice. Kind of like when we used to sit together at the old diner, right?"
Michael winced and shuddered. "Mm. I guess."
Charlie cleared her throat. "Sorry. I know that's a sensitive subject, I shouldn't have—"
"No, it's alright." He lifted a hand, keeping his tired eyes glued to his food. She frowned deeply. It certainly didn't look like it was alright. "So how have you been doing?" he asked, obviously trying to change the subject.
"I've been doing alright." She picked up her sandwich. "Trying to work on the animatronics a bit more, but my dad's being kind of difficult about it."
"How so?" Michael asked.
"He's worried about me, I guess," she said, "and protective. But he doesn't have to be, I can handle myself pretty well now. I mean, I've even been doing sit-ups!"
"Sit-ups?" He chuckled.
"Oh, don't laugh." She nudged him from across the table. She looked down at the sandwich in her hand, thoughts drifting a bit. "But you know what? I think my dad's just so protective, because..." Her words faded, as she grew unsure whether to tell Michael what she'd been about to say.
"Because what?" He glanced up and met her gaze.
She frowned, again noticing how tired he looked, for he had deep shadows beneath his eyes. "Mike, not to be rude, but you look exhausted. Have you been getting enough sleep?"
He gave a grunt, glaring out the window. "I don't see what concern it is of yours."
"Maybe because I'm your friend?" She crossed her arms.
"You always were getting after me for my health, weren't you?" He sent her a sidelong glance.
"I worry for you, that's all." She shrugged, lowering her arms. "If I'm being honest, I never stopped. I always wondered if one day we'd meet up like this again."
His displeased expression began to fade. "Thanks for your concern, I guess. I...just don't get much sleep anymore."
Charlie tilted her head. "Why not?"
Michael gave a bitter laugh. "Well, for starters, my mental state hasn't been the best since...you-know-what."
Wincing harder, she reached across the table and laid her hand on his. "I know, Mike. But that's behind you now, you shouldn't beat yourself up over it so much."
He jerked his hand away. "Easy for you to say. I literally...I...I killed my...I—" He broke off and lowered his head. "Never mind, let's just change the subject." He continued to eat his food, his motions quick and jerky. A silence fell over them as Charlie also went back to eating. This tense silence stretched for an uncomfortable amount of time, before he spoke up again, "Um," he said, "so what was it you were saying about your father?"
"Oh, right." Her voice took on a distant tone. "I was saying, um...well, let's just say something bad happened to me a while back. I don't think he's ever fully gotten over it, he's still trying to protect me from it."
"Something bad?" His eyebrows drew together. "What?"
"I'm not sure. I don't remember it, and he never told me what exactly."
"Then how do you know?"
"I overhead a conversation he had once." Charlie glanced off to the side as she swirled around her drink in its water bottle. "Plus, I don't know, I can just tell."
"Hmm." Michael narrowed his eyes. "Strange."
She nodded, focusing on him again with a slight frown. "I love my father, I truly do. Just sometimes I wish he'd see that I don't need so much protecting."
"He will one day, I'm sure," he said, "and, hey, at least you have a father who actually cares for you so deeply. Mine is—" his expression darkened; when he spoke again, his voice was tight— "well, you know him. He's not the warmest and kindest man around."
"No." She shuddered. "I guess not."
"But don't worry about your dad." He waved a hand, then took a sip of his soda. "He'll come around soon enough. I know Henry, he's a good man. And you, well, I remember you were always pretty amazing. You're doing well for yourself, really." He shrugged. "I think you'll succeed, either way."
"That's a nice thing to say, Mike." She smiled faintly.
"Eh." He jerked his shoulders into another shrug. "What else are friends for?"
Her smile grew. "Yes. I like that we're becoming friends again, life wasn't the same without my dorky best friend."
"Pfft." He sent her an amused look. "I'm pretty sure you're the dorky one here, Charlie."
"Sure, I am. And you're the grouchy one."
"I am not grouchy!"
"Oh really?"
"Alright." He rolled his eyes. "So maybe I am a little grouchy. But, hey, at least you've managed to put a smile or two on my face already." He snorted, shaking his head. "Surprised even me."
"Guess I'm just that good," she said. Raising his eyebrows, Michael opened his mouth to reply, but she lifted her hands and cut him off, "Kidding, I'm kidding."
"Ah, I thought you were becoming a bit overconfident," he said.
"Me?" She motioned to herself. "Never. You were always the big showoff when we were younger."
"Yes, I suppose." Michael pushed aside his empty plate. "So what was that you said earlier?"
"What do you mean? I said a lot of things."
"About the bowling alley."
Charlie nearly gasped in surprise. "Oh, right! Um...I invited you to tag along with me and a couple of friends." She folded her hands on the table, waiting, silently hoping he accepted. Though she tried not to appear too eager. Didn't want to accidentally chase him off, after all.
"Hmm." Michael narrowed his eyes. "And who are these friends?"
"They're nice," Charlie said, thinking back to her little support group. "If you don't be a total grump, I'm positive they'll like you." She tucked back a strand of her hair. "Honestly, I just wanted an excuse to do something fun with you, so I thought why not invite you? You like bowling, right?"
"Haven't been in years, but sure, it's pretty fun," said he. "Didn't we go once or twice? Back when we were, I don't know, about eleven?"
"Oh, that's right." Charlie laughed. "I forgot about that. You kept getting gutter balls, and I completely smashed you!"
"Ugh, don't remind me." He rolled with his eyes, with a slight smirk. "Let's hope I don't make a total fool of myself this time."
"So you're going then?" She brightened.
Michael paused, stirring his straw in his drink as his expression shifted to his usual tired, neutral ones. With a sigh, he said, "Yeah, sure. For old time's sake." He released his straw and looked her in the eye, with a surprisingly soft gaze. "It's nice spending time with you again, Charlie. Even a little bit. Guess I didn't realize how much I missed it."
"Me neither," she said, sending him a content smile, "and, by the way, if you ever need help finding a new job, just let me or my dad know. We'd gladly help you!"
"I'll keep that in mind." He rose to his feet. "Now I better go. Your break's ending soon, right?"
"Yes, it is." She stood, rolling her eyes. "Time to deal with more annoying customers."
He laughed and shook his head. "Oh, I know that feeling. Good luck."
"Thanks," she said. "This was fun."
"Mm." He nodded, quickly paying the bill. "Here's a tip for the awesome waitress." He handed her two ten-dollar bills. "I'll see you later."
"Yeah, see you." She waved as he headed for the exit. She started to turn away, only to immediately whip back around at a realization. "Oh! Wait!" she called. "Michael!"
"Hmm?" He stuck his head back in.
"I haven't even told you when we're going to the bowling alley, dummy," she said, putting a hand on her hip.
"Gah, you're right." Michael facepalmed. "I'm so stupid. Here, how about I give you my number, and you can call me about it later?"
"That'd be perfect." She went over. He hastily jotted down his number, using a sheet of paper from the notebook Charlie kept orders in. As soon he handed it over, they bid farewell and he left, for real this time. She spent the rest of the day in high spirits, despite her rather irritating job, for she grew excited for her outing with her friends. But more importantly perhaps, with Michael. That was something she certainly did not expect to happen, especially not after how things had been left off between them. And yet, here they were.
Even Michael was in a good mood after their lunch together. Despite spending the day tiredly checking out available jobs (during which he didn't get hired, not to his surprise), he returned home feeling less exhausted and depressed.
"Huh," he said, leaning against his door and staring up at the ceiling. "Strange." Yawning openly, he set aside his keys, then flopped onto the couch. He felt too tired to watch anything and decided to merely relax and listen to some music as he readied for bed. He did this somewhat slowly, and soon his nightly routine became interrupted by a sudden ringing of his phone. Groaning in annoyance, he clicked off the music, then went over and answered.
"Hello?" he said, his voice layered with displeasure.
"Hello, Michael." William's voice came through.
"Oh, come on," Michael said. "Seriously? Why are you calling me? I'm literally getting ready for bed."
"I haven't called to chit chat, if that's what you're wondering," William said, "but the way you greet me is always rude."
"Can't really blame." Michael glared at the wall, as if his father were there.
William chuckled. "I suppose not. Now then, I have quite a serious reason for calling you."
"Oh really?" Michael sneered. "And what might that be?"
"Well," said William, "I have a job offer for you."