Chapter Text
You threw the dress shirt across the room before picking up another one and holding it up to yourself, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You studied yourself for a minute, before letting out a scoff, tossing the shirt to the side, and grabbing another one. This was your first job in a while, everything had to be perfect.
In hindsight, this was overkill, you weren't supposed to be there until 3:00 and it was barely past 2:00, but you couldn't help yourself. You'd been trying and failing to get a job for months, hardly getting a response, even if it was just to tell you that they weren't interested. And you were starting to get desperate when you found the ad in the paper:
"Help Wanted: Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Family pizzeria looking for employee to pick up general work. Must be experienced in customer service, cashing out customers, and keeping a clean and safe environment."
A little vague, and you'd driven by the place a few times before and seen how rundown and decrepit it looked now, but you couldn't exactly be picky right now. The point is, you were desperate for this job, to prove you could handle it, to not have to go through another month of applying to places and getting rejected. You had been since you first applied, and now even more so that you'd gotten the job, the pressure had just grown. You were trying to prove yourself, here. And if that meant looking way overqualified to work at a cheap little pizza restaurant, than dammit, that's what you were gonna do.
Your phone vibrated on your dresser as you were trying on another shirt, and you fumbled to finish pulling it on, immediately failing and crashing into your dresser with a loud groan. You pulled it on the rest of the way before grabbing your phone, and trying to sound like you didn't just fall headfirst into your dresser while trying to get dressed, you said "Hello?"
"Y/N, hi, glad we could get ahold of you." The voice on the other end said, presumably a manager. "Listen, we're running a little behind here, would you mind coming in at 3:30 instead of 3:00 today? We just need to get some things squared away before we start training you."
You scrunched your eyes shut, fighting the urge to roll them and taking a deep breath. "Yeah, no problem."
"Great, thank you. We'll see you then."
The call disconnected and you tossed the phone back onto your dresser, letting out a grunt of frustration. Now you felt even more stupid getting ready so early since it was all for nothing now. Having to wait the extra thirty minutes was honestly just stressing you out more. You felt pathetic for it, but it was true. You really didn't know what you were so worried for, you figured it's not like they could fire you immediately. Not unless you, like, blew up the building or something. And it's not like this was your first ever job, you knew what you were doing and had for a while.
You let out a sigh, falling backwards onto your bed. Maybe this was good for you? You could try and relax a little before starting work? Calm yourself down a bit? You didn't really know what to expect, so it was probably for the best.
You sat there for a minute, staring up at your ceiling, letting your mind wander and trying to just relax...
You sat up less than a minute later, letting out a sigh.
This wasn't going to work. You had to do something.
You stepped into a building that didn't look like it'd been updated since the 80s.
The early 80's.
It looked really old, is what I'm saying.
The posters were faded and curling up on themselves, a couple newer ones sprinkled between in an effort to keep the space looking fresh, the brightly colored walls had clearly been wallpapered over at some point because you could see faded little tracks going down them, the tiles on the floor were faded and looked like they hadn't been properly cleaned in months, and there were just little pieces that didn't quite fit in; newer looking wall-art, new light fixtures mixed in with the old, thing that just made the age of this place stand out even more. Clearly there was some effort to keep it looking nice, but it wasn't enough. Either they desperately needed a new janitor or they just needed to consider this place a lost cause.
You walked up to the front desk, headed by a woman in a button up and a pencil skirt, her high ponytail trailing over one shoulder, chomping on gum and looking generally disinterested with the Karen standing in front of her. After she left, you walked up, a little sheepishly.
"Uh, hi, my name is Y/N L/N, I'm supposed to start work today?"
"Oh, of course!" She extended her hand and you shook it. "I'm Anna Thompson, I'll be one of your new managers here."
"Nice to meet you." You said, straightening your back.
"Happy to have you here, we've been pretty understaffed the past month. We have almost everything squared away for you, thankfully you're not working kitchen so you didn't have to do any paperwork for that. Walk with me."
She popped her gum and started down a hallway next to her. You followed, the generic family-friendly pop music they were playing over the intercom quickly growing distant.
"So, your job is going to be picking up slack around here until we can get some new hires, then we can find you a permanent position. If you work hard, that is." She tossed a smile over her shoulder to show she was teasing. At least you thought she was. "Things like working the customer service desk or the prize counter, cleaning up small messes, maybe working dayshift security. Really, it depends on what we need for that day. It's going to seem a little hectic your first week because of how busy we get, but I promise you'll get the hang of it soon enough. Hell, I can handle most customer service issues without hardly paying attention, they're all the same." She chuckled.
She stopped abruptly, pulling open the door to a supply closet and flicking a light on. "What size shirt do you wear?"
"Uh, (your shirt size)."
"Alrighty." She said to herself, rifling through the closet for a minute before pulling out a folded purple shirt. "Dress code's pretty slack around here, just be sure you're wearing your uniform and you have your name tag--we're working on getting that made, by the way."
You nodded, struggling to keep up with her long strides. God, how long did this hallway go for?
"There's also other little obvious things like don't forget to smile, watch what you say around the kids, no smoking near the kitchen area, try not to stay too long after you're scheduled--the other managers can get a little weird about overtime or working extra hours. Now, about your training..."
She stopped in front of another door, heavier this time, almost industrial. "The guy who you were supposed to shadow ended up dropping out last minute--life circumstances, I guess--so we had to bring in someone new for that. He typically works night security, but he's been here long enough that he knows all the in's and out's of this place, and he's offered to take a few extra shifts to help train you." She knocked on the door. "Michael! New hire's here!"
The door swung open--not even "swung", it lifted, raised, like a door to a cage--and out walked another new face.
The man at the door looked a little...disheveled. Not in a way that was super noticeable, but in little ways; he had bags under his eyes, stubble lining his face, a shaggy and overgrown mullet, and he just overall looked TIRED. That honestly didn't strike you as weird, you'd been working long enough to know that a lot of employees were just like that. His eyes were what caught you; a deep and piercing blue, almost seeming to shine even in the dim hallway lighting. They were intense and watchful, almost boring into you as you looked at each other, the only part of him that seemed really alert.
"Y/N, this is Micheal Schmidt, our one and only night security guard. So don't drive him off." She laughed a little too long. "I'm just kidding. He'll be working day security for the next week or so to help you get the hang of things. Supervising you and the customers, two birds with one stone."
Micheal gave you a slight nod. You returned it.
"Anyway," Anna spoke up again, "breakroom's at the end of the hall, I'll let you go ahead and get changed. Meet Micheal back here when you're ready to start, and--oh! Micheal..." She looked at him expectantly. You turned to see him holding out a walkie talkie, apparently way ahead of her. "Have that on you at all times, charge it in the breakroom when you leave, it's your only way to contact us, so do NOT lose it. And just use it if you need anything." With that, she spun on her heel, leaving behind the scent of bubblegum and cigarettes.
You swallowed, before walking off to the breakroom. Something about this place definitely felt off. You were sure it was just because it was old, but there was definitely a creepy vibe, especially as you walked down the hall--why the hell was it so dimly lit? But either way, you knew you couldn't be picky, and you didn't plan to. This was the first job you could get, and you were gonna make the most of it.