Chapter Text
‘The Girl is sitting there
Sitting on her yellow chair
She is talking happily
About her Destiny
That she won't get to see'
- Yellow Chair, by Evan Afton (second grade)
---•●•---
Evan was starting to feel bored. His father had dragged the entire family to the Emilys for dinner, just because. So now Evan was sitting on the Emilys’ uncomfortable, ugly green couch while listening to Elizabeth ramble to Uncle Henry and Dad. Henry leaned in, nodding at the appropriate times and sighing at the parts where she seemed annoyed. His eyes, which were a much nicer green than the couch but darker than Evan’s, shone in delight. He somehow enjoyed the torture he was being subjected to. Dad, however, was almost as cold as always. Though his occasional hums of consideration made Elizabeth light up more than even the greatest vanilla cake ever could.
Evan did not have it in him to pretend to be interested like he normally did. He’d been there for what seemed like hours although they had only arrived at the Emilys’ house mere minutes ago. He took one last look at his sister, who was showing no signs of stopping, and decided it was his turn to go pester someone else. He slowly got up from his place, when Elizabeth turned her head to look him straight in the eyes.
“Where are you going, Ev?”
Evan looked down, not prepared for confrontation. “I was- I was going to grab a bottle of water.” He cringed slightly at how soft his vowels were. His accent always showed more when he was nervous, which made it a perfect tell for when he was lying. “I’ll be back soon, promise.”
“Really? You promise?”
Evan nodded. It was better to let her believe than to crush all of her hopes. She didn’t seem too convinced, but let him go without asking any more questions. It was more than he could have dared to hope for. And as he made his way towards the dining room, he could’ve sworn he saw Uncle Henry give him a playful wink.
The dining room was an overall unremarkable room. It was smaller than the Afton’s, though it was painted in warm greens (that were still nicer than the couch) and had a very cozy feel to it. The oak table was small and round, barely big enough for the number of guests it would seat tonight. There were currently six yellow chairs set around it. They were all practically touching each other due to how packed it had to be to fit them all. Most of them were empty but two of them hosted the people Evan wanted to see the most.
“So I was thinking when I take over the Fazbear company I’ll make a restaurant themed after a carnival. Imagine how cool that would be! Instead of pizza, we’d sell corn dogs and burgers and elephant ears, and the animatronics would be cartoonish colors, ” Charlie said. “I’d call it something like, I don’t know… Big Top Burger?”
“That’s a stupid plan. No one likes carnivals that much. Not even Uncle Henry, and he loves everything on God’s green earth. Besides, who said you’ll get the company?” Michael replied.
“You’re just jealous I have better ideas than you.”
“Am not!"
“Then tell me about the ideas you have that are so much better than mine?”
Michael clamped his mouth shut. Despite all his talking, it was clear that he had nothing. Evan could practically see the gears in his head turning. If there was one thing Michael hated most, it was losing. And in this playful argument, that seemed to be the one thing he was doing.
Charlie laughed, “that’s what I thought. This is why I’ll get the company, Mikey.”
“If I'm being honest, that sounds like nepotism,” Michael grumbled, though there was a hint of a smile in his own voice. Charlie, being a nine-year-old, tilted her head in confusion at the last word Michael said. But she was just as prideful as her friend, and as such, she didn’t deign to ask him what that meant. Especially when she had a father who knew practically everything, who she could just ask later. And while Evan himself was a walking dictionary, knowing far more words than most kids his age, he found himself disappointed that she never asked. It was a word he didn’t know yet and he wanted to learn very badly.
“Whatever, loser. Let’s just get back to work.” Charlie said.
The two fell back into a comfortable silence, which Evan saw as his chance to get closer to the table. They seemed to be drawing something. Or rather, Michael was drawing and Charlie was coloring. There were shavings and pencils and paper and glue scattered all over the table. “What are you guys working on?”
“You can’t tell anyone, but we’re working on a surprise for my dad’s birthday. He loves Monopoly, and he also loves Fredbear’s, so we decided to mash the two together as a Fredbear themed board.”
Evan knew all too well of Uncle Henry’s love for that game. It was one of the only things that he and Dad had in common, despite being close friends. They used to play it very often at home. But that was before Mom died when he spent time with them all. Now he usually hides away in his office all day. That only made Evan want to spend time with him more, and whenever Dad would so much as look at him he would soak up the attention and relative warmth like a plant in the sunlight.
Evan shook himself out of his thoughts. “Can I join you guys?”
“Sure,” said Charlie.
“Fuck off,” said Michael, at the same time.
Charlie glared at Michael. “C’mon, Mikey. You should be nicer to the little man. If I had a brother I would spend all the time in the world with him, especially with one as cool as Evan-"
“I already spend enough time with him to send me to the ward.”
“-besides, wouldn’t it be nice for someone to label all the cards for us? He has very nice handwriting from all the poems and whatever he spends his time working on. It’s much better than your chicken scratch, anyways.”
Both the Afton boys felt their faces flush, but for different reasons. Evan was flattered that someone actually took notice of his handwriting, which was a mix between cursive and print that he learned from Dad. As for Michael, it was probably the fact that his six-year-old brother had better handwriting than him that made him embarrassed enough to turn into a mockery of a tomato. Michael quickly recomposed himself with a roll of his eyes. “You know what? Fine. The little guy can join us.”
Evan cheerfully hopped onto the chair closest to him at that point, grabbing a pen and preparing to work. Michael let slid him the plans for the rethemed board, which were written on a lined sheet of paper and consisted of rough sketches with labels scribbled next to them. There was a property card for Pirates Cove, a utility that was simply the Kitchen, and the jail was the Employee’s Only room, among other things. It was very straightforward and simple to follow, so Evan got straight to work on the cards that were already colored in. They were very nice looking, which was unsurprising considering that Michael’s main passion was art and how Charlie often colored in pictures to help her wind down at night.
“So, how old is your old man going to be anyways?” Michael asked, turning his back towards Evan in an attempt to ignore his presence.
“Uh, I don’t actually know. I mean, I know he was born in the March of thirty-nine, so…"
“He’d be forty-three, then,” Michael said quickly, within seconds of her saying the date. Then, in a rare display of manners, he added, “sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off.”
Evan looked on in shock. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard those words coming out of his brother’s mouth before. Normally he was unapologetic when he did something rude. Evan knew he shouldn’t get used to this behavior, he sincerely doubted he’d see Michael genuinely apologize again in his lifetime.
“It’s okay. I keep on forgetting that you’re actually good at math, especially when you’re, you know, you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? And besides, it’s not like my skills matter anyway. Not when my grades are still going to shi-”
“-Woah, woah, woah, big guy! That’s some pretty strong language you’ve got going there.” Teased Henry from right outside the dining room door. His blocky glasses reflected much of the light coming from the dining room, but Evan could still see that his eyes were practically twinkling.
“Uncle Henry! What’re you doing here?” Said Michael as he started to attempt to gather and hide their surprise. The other two quickly followed suit. “I thought Lizzie was telling such a riveting story out there.”
“Of course, of course. But I'm terribly thirsty, and very badly needed a boh'le of wah-ter.” His voice easily slipped into a downright terrible fake accent. He once again winked at Evan, making the boy smile a bit. “And what’s all this you’ve got going on here? It’s nothing illegal, is it?”
Henry was suddenly at the table, leaning over Evan and looking at the remaining bits of the project. Unfortunately for the kids, it was enough for a clever man like Henry to put together the pieces. A huge grin spread across his face. “Is this for me?”
“Well, it is, but it isn’t ready yet and you weren’t meant to see it.” Said Charlie.
“This is so thoughtful of you all! Thank you so much, I’m sure it’ll turn out great with all of your talents.”
“But it was supposed to be a surprise!”
Henry walked around the table and towards his daughter. “I’m sure whatever it turns out like it’ll be a surprise. You all manage to blow me away like that. Especially… you!”
Suddenly Charlie was scooped up into his arms. He spun her around in the air, causing the young girl to burst into a laughing fit. “Put me down!” She laughed, not truly meaning what she said.
“I don’t think I will. I think I’ll keep holding onto my superstar forever and ever!”
Evan watched the display of fatherly affection with a sense of longing in his heart. He found himself longing to be picked up in the air like that, to laugh so hard it turned into a squeal. He longed to always feel as nice as he did when Dad ruffled his hair or smiled at him. Even though the man was just in the other room, Evan’s heart started to feel empty and cold. Unsure of what else to do, the boy resigned himself to sitting in the yellow chair, a plant to the Emilys’ warm sunbeams, hoping that it would be enough.