Chapter Text
Elizabeth’s older brother.
That was the only nickname you knew him of. You weren’t sure what his name was, the kid acting out all the time, and who you swore hated his brother to an extreme. His brother was the only target that mattered, it felt like a competition of some sort. There was something more to it than people said, what was seen in the naked eye.
Maybe you were looking into the Afton’s family a bit too much, it was just a bit concerning nobody was saying or doing anything about it. But who were you to judge people’s morals, you were scared as shit to do anything about that tall, ruthless teenager who loved torturing the ever-living shit out of his brother and scaring middle schoolers who got in his way. It was obvious that the teachers were also scared as hell to do anything, or knew that there wasn’t anything to be redempt. It would feel like trying to get the devil himself to go through redemption.
With how the system worked here, these were the consequences of letting your child into a school that had a middle school but also a high school connected to it. It’s practically like letting a sheep into a pen full of wolves. This school was a rare one, and yet it was still torture.
Everyday you stepped into this school, you crossed your fingers you wouldn’t get targeted by Liz’s sister–you remembered his name now. Mike? Michael? He loathes being called his legal name, Michael.
You remembered him almost getting charged with attempted murder with how hard he had choked his brother when he had called him Michael. Terrifying.
You were lucky you were placed into this school as a junior, now being a senior. You also crossed your fingers the curly-headed punk wouldn’t go to the same university or college you would go to. He probably wouldn’t even get out of high school. That was a bit too harsh.
“Drool much?” A blur of pink; Jessica, placed her body against the locker to obscure your view of Michael who was bickering with his other friends. Jessica was a year younger than you, but knew to always keep you up to date with drama. She knew everything, which was weird since you should have been expected to know everything. You slowly closed your locker, slipping the lock on with a click.
Jessica laughed, even shocked that you were silently gawking at the whole school’s stereotypical movie bully. She sort of understood why, he had that bad boy charm that you could only read in books. “I wasn’t even looking at him like that, Jesus,” You mumbled, scoffing before adjusting your backpack. Honestly, you weren’t even sure yourself why you had been goggling at him.
“I could see the hearts in your eyes, no–” She narrowed her eyes, face getting near yours which you reacted by backing away. “They’re still kinda there,” She jabs her Barbie pink-coloured fingernails near your eyes. Jessica just wouldn’t give this up. You don’t even know Michael that much to like him. You weren’t even close with him to like him.
“Hey, come on, the bus is going to leave your ass in a minute,” You grabbed Jessica’s shoulder, leading her the complete opposite way of where Michael’s group was hanging by. Do they even go home or what? They were like loitering. It would be suicide going that way. Shit, it’d be even better just to jump out the window.
If Jess hadn’t noticed that this way was longer and that you were only going this way because of Michael, things would’ve been different. “Hey, this way’s longer, if you don’t want me to be late–” Jessica paused, stopping in her tracks, noticing why. “Oh my god? Hey come on, it’s not that big of a deal,”
Jessica was about to get both of you guys beat up by a 6-foot bully. Would he hit women? If they got in his way, yes probably.
She kept you close, walking at such a slow pace that it was definitely on purpose. “Why did you even come back for me when you were going to be late anyway?” You kept your voice down, purposefully avoiding eye contact ahead of his group.
Jess on the other hand was exchanging looks from the others in Michael’s group, shamelessly. “I mean, you would’ve kept staring at Mike until the janitor kicked his group out, then you,” Jessica said out loud in a full tone of voice, loud enough for anybody and everybody to hear.
Including Michael.
His name being heard out of anybody’s mouth was a reason for conflict. Almost as if that was the only word he heard out of what Jessica said.
“Hey.”
The familiar firm voice made your heart drop. Goddamn you Jess. You and Jessica both knew this was the time to stop. You were the first to slowly turn your head around to meet Michael’s sapphire narrowed eyes. He was scowling. Did he always look this scary? Or was it because he was getting closer? His figure towered over both of you, you could see his jaw tightening. He was scowling at you. Man, you were fucked.
“What did you say?” He almost yelled that you were quite intimidated by him. Then his scowl faded, realizing something. “Hey, shit–wait, you’re that girl that Liz keeps talking about,” He laughs, quite entertained to have run into you. He hums, trying to remember your name. Michael then snaps his fingers repeatedly, blurting your name out loud even you were surprised that he knew you existed. Jessica absentmindedly kept staring at you, slightly scared to even glance at Michael.
“Really? That’s good, sorry I need to go, me and my friend are going to be late for the bus,” You rambled, internally cringing because Michael raised an eyebrow suspiciously. He’s seen you multiple times walking home. “Don’t you walk home?” Curse you for trying to lie. Michael was smarter than you had inexplicably thought. You sighed, just wanting this conversation to end but he just wouldn’t drop it. Think. You have to lie again.
“School project, I’m going to her house,”
Michael eventually bought it, shrugging and letting you go without saying anything else. Jessica began walking as fast as her legs could take her, almost galloping down the flights of stairs. “How do you even like that guy? Made me get goosebumps, I swear..” She mumbles, walking out the door.
It was general curiousity, it was like Michael ran the goddamn halls of this school. He was like the devil’s incarnate. That might’ve been a bit harsh, but you just wanted to know why, what the hell happened for him to act out. There was never a moment when Michael wasn’t around. If you said his name, you got beaten up by his gang, or if you were lucky enough, you’d get the message from the man himself.
Your mind ran blank when you got home, you were trying to pass the time without even thinking about him. You did homework, even cleaned your room just to get your mind thoroughly blank. So you thought about your babysitting job, man, you were 17 and yet still didn’t have a more serious part-time job. After this gig, you needed to work at a place that pays a ton. The current babysitting job you have was about to pay well, because the kids you were about to take care of were difficult at times, is what their dad said.
The clock soon ticked to 6 pm, so you packed your bag and put on a comfy outfit.
The sun was already beginning to set, so street lights were now on as well as the lights inside the house right in front of you.
Muffled screams and shrieks, but also yelling was what you had heard when you had stepped on their front door.
How welcoming. You thought, eyes glancing over to the driveway, no cars were parked except for one car which looked beat up. Not the dad’s car. So he was already gone for work.
You rang the doorbell, hearing the screams inside slowly simmer down to absolute murmurs. A click from the door caught your attention, then it opened to reveal the renowned Michael.
Great.
There was something deep inside you, an urge to run away because of him. His glare was intense, so there wasn’t anything else to look at. It felt illegal to look away from him. Your eyes scanned over at the black shirt he wore, and the slightly saggy jeans he wore even at his house. He held eye contact, noticing your weird habit of staring. His one hand holding the door open held drumsticks, and his wrist had a black spiky cuff. He was a real sucker for the stereotypical emo older brother style.
He raised an eyebrow, almost upset that it was silent for this long. He hated awkward silences. It reminded him of funerals. That was probably why he could never shut up. “You? My lucky day, what is it?” He leaned in closer, literally inspecting you. This guy was insufferable.
“I’m the babysitter,”
He deadpanned, almost out of disbelief. He slowly turned around to Evan and Elizabeth who were staying a distance away from the door then back to you again. Did his dad just not trust him enough to look over them? That was crazy.
“This is a joke, yeah,” He scanned your face for any sort of deceit, any sort of hint that this was a joke that his friends put you up to, but nothing happened. “Are you serious–You’re not fucking with me, right?” He narrowed his eyes, the eyeliner making his eyes much more intense than they already were. Was it that much of a deal that his dad hired a babysitter? You sighed, even more tired of this situation than he was. “No, I’m not fucking with you, okay?”
The person you were at school who was scared of him was gone now, you were too tired to care. You knew how difficult he was just going to make your job if you didn’t stick up for yourself. You sneaked through to get into the house, watching Michael mutter and shut the door. “Hey, ‘Liz,” You patted Elizabeth’s ocher hair which was tied up in high pigtails. She giddily smiled. The only way you knew Elizabeth was because you had the chance to tutor her once in a while at school.
The Afton’s house wasn’t what you thought it was, it probably wasn’t what a lot of people would think of when they think of Mike. It wasn’t a high-class home. From the overall feel of the house, it was so 70s that you knew that all of them had lived in Hurricane their entire life. You thought it was nice and comfy.
“You guys have dinner yet?” You casually asked, turning around to immediately be met with Michael striding from the door to bump into your shoulder on purpose out of spite.
“Ridiculous,” Was all you heard from Michael’s incoherent mumbling. Evan nodded his head as a yes. Damn. Michael was petty as hell.
Even at home he never dropped the act of being a total asshole. It was possibly because you were around. It didn’t bother you that much at all since him being like this wouldn’t change anything.
You couldn’t let him piss you off this much because that was probably what he wanted. With teenagers like this, it was obvious what they wanted was a reaction out of you. You knew since you were in a classroom mostly filled with guys that were exactly like him, except more mild in terms of their act.
“Alright then, you guys got homework to do, I’m here to help. If not, you guys can do whatever you want.” You shrugged. In this job, it was never good to be so strict with the kids, although yes, you had to set some sort of boundary. It was fine if they were well-behaved and listened.
Elizabeth’s eyes, which were oddly green in contrast to Mike’s deep blue colour and Evan’s chocolate brown eyes, lit up in admiration at the thought of you being a chill babysitter.
She thought you were the coolest person ever.
“Okay, go on, holler if you need anything, alright?” You patted Elizabeth’s back whilst she made her way upstairs obviously into her room. “Even you,” Evan smiled softly, not being used to being treated so nicely by anybody. You hoped Michael would stop his bullshit already because Evan was just a kid. He deserved to be one.
A noisy clatter made you and Evan perk both of your heads up to the source of the sound. “Shit!” Michael. You let Evan go, turning the television on and letting him go on the couch. Whatever the sound was, it was definitely from where Michael went. It came from the far end of the hallway; this was the first time you’d ever been in their house so it was quite confusing what the layout was.
“Fuck, I need to get a new one, this is–” He sighed heavily. The door was open to the garage, oddly. You thought Michael would want to get his privacy rather than letting the annoying babysitter in his way.
Your feet were light on the hardwood floors when you peered into the room, not wanting to make him mad that you were peeping on him.
Michael was crouched on the ground, getting the stand-up on what looked to be his hi-hat, unscrewed and the two pieces of the cymbal were disconnected. He stood back up, back still facing you.
“Some girls in the band miss you by the way,” A smile was quickly put on your face when Michael swiftly turned his head around at the sound of your voice. He went back to glaring at you again, this time for interrupting his quick fix with his issue. He never seemed to stop frowning at the sight of you. He frowned at the sight of anybody. If he kept at it, he would age worse than the usual teenager. Thankfully he started late with the frowning since he still looked young.
“You say it like I’d give a shit,” Michael said more distastefully than you could imagine. He turned his head back around to twist the screw on top of the hi-hat and tighten it.
Michael wasn’t much for small talk. He was one of the most impatient beings to walk the halls of the school, hell, he was one of the most impatient beings, period. You had three seconds to impress him, five if you were lucky. “That pretty girl you like was looking for you,” He paused, still messing with the pedal of the hi-hat, trying to “Sidney?” He asked after a couple of seconds of silence. It was obvious to everybody in the band, even the instructor that he had a huge fat crush on the elegant flute player beside you.
You also played the flute.
Pretty privilege. Growing up in a middle-class rich suburban neighbourhood got you popular amongst people. Growing up pretty also meant you could get away with anything. Like bullying. She was a bad person.
There was nothing to like about her. If somebody was ugly on the inside, they were ugly on the outside, despite their looks. She was one of the cases. It was something that pissed you off to the max, people getting recognition for “talent.”
“Yeah, talking about how she missed seeing you around with a bunch of her group.” You rubbed salt in the wound when Michael had decided to get himself kicked out of the band because of shit he had pulled off with his brother and torturing other kids. It was Michael’s fault, you knew how much Michael loved playing the drums and the bass guitar occasionally.
When he got kicked out, you heard he was attempting to create a band of his own with his friends. He was a good player and believe it or not, was loved by the band conductor once.
“Felt like a damn funeral,” You shuddered at the fact that they were all embarrassingly boy crazy over Michael. You knew Sidney wouldn’t even date Michael with how different they were in completely different scales on the levels of hierarchy. She knew it’d be social suicide. But this isn’t even a rare case since she’s reacted the same way with anybody who was leaving the school, even throwing a pity party to the teachers who quit.
Who knows. Maybe you were overreacting. No. You stepped fully into the garage, looking around at the fact that it was a huge garage. It was because you kept forgetting that Michael’s dad was the creator of the animatronic pizzeria just down the road. By the smell of oil and mechanical junk and the obvious scatter of animatronic metal parts on the floor, on the workbench, and everywhere in the half of the garage, Mr. Afton worked here.
Michael shrugged, feeling indifferent about what you had said. It didn’t shock him in the way you expected. “I’m not going back to the band because I’ll last about a day, then they’ll kick me out,” He said, properly adjusting his hi-hat. He sat on his comfortable stool, now having no choice but to face you. In some ways he was right, but not because the conductor hated him or anything, It was because he was getting himself kicked out with the shit he was doing.
Michael just wanted to cause trouble for no absolute reason. He couldn’t help it, it was like a part of his identity. People thought of him as a bully so there was no use to just one day, randomly backing down from his heinous crimes at school. He didn’t even like it. He liked the attention.
“How’s your band coming along?” You stared into his eyes, watching his narrowed eyes shift into something more welcoming only to go back to its usual self. Michael thought it was suspicious for somebody to be this interested in him. Nobody could be this interested in him. It pissed him off. Was his dad texting her to ask this shit? Because he wouldn’t break for just anybody, and certainly not this girl. Specifically not this girl who was known by his whole family.
“Just peachy,” He said sarcastically, putting in one earphone and leaving the other off. He did not want to go into full detail about how his friend group was bickering with each other about the name of the band and not about the actual quality of the songs. He took it much more seriously than any of them. But he didn’t have anybody to talk to about this. If he had brought it up to his friends they would’ve shit in his cereal and told him it wasn’t that big of a deal.
“I think Sidney threw you a pity party because she’s an asshole just like you, except she hides it better,”
Michael was honestly shocked that you were being this forward with how much you truly hated Sidney and him. It was like you weren’t afraid of getting beat up by him, or him telling Sidney about what you said. Honestly, you knew this was petty but you just had to say it after holding it in for so long you had to eventually talk to somebody about this, and what better way to say it to the man himself?
There was no information that wasn’t true in what you said, so you had said it nonchalantly like it wasn’t a big deal. It probably pissed him off more than you had spoken so much gossip while also being unbothered.
Also, Michael didn’t even know anything about Sidney being an asshole as you said. Nobody talked about it.
“Wolf in sheep’s clothing,”
This was the moment you had stopped your unseriousness for trying to piss him off. It was just so easy, you couldn’t help yourself.
What? Why is he agreeing with me?
Did he have a change of heart? Or?.. This was a weird change of pace for the bickering. Michael knew this had you stunned because you suddenly became quiet. He began playing a slow tempo, experimenting with the other elements of his drums. It felt like a more chill song than you thought it would be, with how he was. It sounded good, sounded just like what a teenager would play; it sounded angsty. In a weird way to explain it, Michael looked exactly like what the beat sounded.
“What? Wasn’t that what you wanted?”
He finally responded to your speechless reaction to him admitting that it was true. The other weird thing was, he didn’t even ask how you knew about Sidney being a shit person and truly just accepted that it was a fact. It meant that he trusted you in some way, but only you appeared to notice. If he did, he wouldn’t have agreed with you.
“No–It was just that I thought you wouldn’t agree with me.” His playing got a lot more quiet, giving you space to answer. How awfully considerate of him.
“Okay, get the fuck out, I need to play without you in the garage.”
Nevermind.
Just when you thought you had cracked at him, he immediately closed back up and crawled back into his shell. That was good for a first try at him, though. Finally, he seemed human, and not some degenerate who bullies kids for a living.
Michael fully put both of his earbuds in, watching you leave the garage.
Evan was still watching his show which was comprised of characters that his father had made which was understandable. This was probably the only type of content he was allowed to watch as a kid. It was getting late pretty quickly, unfortunately they still had to go to bed. Their father was strict about their sleep schedules and you were pretty sure that the kids knew that because as Evan watched the clock tick to a specific time, he was scrambling to turn the television off and get off the couch.
This is weird.
It was weird because their father wasn’t even home and yet they still were that concerned about their sleep schedule.
You stood in the middle of Evan’s panicked state, watching him carefully place the remote in its original place.
“Hey, wait. I know you gotta go to bed but why the rush?”
Evan was more skittish than usual. He shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” Was all he could say, nothing else. There was nothing to be sorry about, you were just asking a question. There was something else going on besides Michael raising hell on him.
Somebody else.
It was best not to pry in their business. It might get you in trouble by the enthusiastic Mr. Afton.
Their father seemed so nice but he did seem distant from his family.
“Nah, it’s okay, come on, I’ll put you to bed.” You reassured, trying not to scare him. He seemed so scared most of the time. He had every right to be.
He nodded.
It took you a couple of minutes going back and forth to Elizabeth and Evan’s room trying to get them settled into bed. You knew it was necessary to at least tell Evan a short bedtime story before bed, turn on his night lights, and for Elizabeth to have all of her lights off. You felt accomplished having done that without any troubles, except for Evan’s obvious paranoia about monsters under beds and closets.
The house was completely silent, except for the slightly irritating sound of the clock ticking and the refrigerator humming. Surprisingly, Michael wasn’t playing his drums anymore when he noticed you taking them to bed. You knew this was a routine for them with how they immediately fell in line when a certain time hit.
Michael looked up at you when he noticed you coming down from just putting them to sleep. As quickly as he noticed you, he looked away.
He hated holding eye contact. Especially with you.
He was relaxed on the couch but left some space for you. You weren’t as stupid so you noticed him making small attempts to make himself look busy. There was a weird tense feeling in the air, blurring the lines between relaxed but also borderline uncomfortable.
“When are you leaving?” Michael suddenly asked, out of the blue. It was a good question since you forgot to tell him when you were leaving but also when you would be coming back tomorrow. Their father was a workaholic.
“What time is it?”
Michael quickly glanced at the clock. “9:30.”
“I leave at 12, so soon.” A flash of mischief ran through his eyes. He was planning something, so you continued. “12 is also when your father returns from work.” The sparkle in his eyes disappeared, turning on the television but turning the volume down so it wasn’t too loud to disturb his siblings. He rolled his eyes, muttering another sassy, “whatever” your way.
Your sleep schedule was going to be ruined because of your job, were you even going to be able to walk back properly without falling over from sleep deprivation?
Sleep deprivation? God, I’m dramatic.
You were going to be fine. Probably.
It was a mistake letting Michael turn the television on, it felt like it was hypnotizing you to go to sleep. The atmosphere of the house now was just begging you to sleep, the dim lights and the background noise of the almost silent television were making your mind slow down. It would be so unprofessional to fall asleep on the job. It was also more dangerous now because of what Michael seemed to be planning earlier. If you fell asleep, he would go on with his plan.
Don’t fall asleep.