Chapter Text
Somewhere in Orlando, the most popular pizzeria is closed for the night.
Harry Styles is running very fast down a heavily decorated hallway, screams of rage echoing in the main plaza behind him.
His eyes dart around frantically and land on a door just a few meters away. He sprints to it and throws it open to hide inside.
Harry Styles slams the door behind him urgently. The door’s hinges take this violent display of anti-door violence very well given that they were oiled yesterday by the maintenance man, and he used water-displacement 40th formula he bought himself like the big strong man he is. What a good maintenance man! Maintenance every day keeps the hinges at bay!
Harry’s legs fail him as the adrenaline resides. He sits on the swirly chair in the centre of the room momentarily to catch his breath. He grabs his spectacles from his coat pocket and slides them up his perfect nose.
“Oh my giddy aunt! Bloody hell!” Harry says, now observing the room properly.
The room is situated between two hallways, with two open doors on the front side, and the one Harry came through at the back, now closed. The room has an office desk in the centre, with a computer on the right. Flyers of events and drawings by children decorate the wall behind the computer. The phone on the desk is ringing but it is the fish tank on the left of the desk that catches the eye of the eccentric man.
There are many fish that swim in it and they are so cute. But Harry is infuriated by the sight, he hates fish. They remind him of his mother. She used to treat the little fishies that swam in the fish tank in his childhood bedroom with more love than she ever gave little british-boy Harry. Harry spent his childhood wishing for his mother to love him like she loved her fishies. When he grew up and became famous he wrote a song called ‘Sushi Restaurant’ about how much he would like to kill all the fish in the world. Overcome with flashbacks from his past and fuelled with rage, Harry stumbles to the bowl and grabs a handful of fish and shovels them into his mouth. He garbles and gulps and slurples all the fish in the first tank. Once calm he turns back around to further inspect the room.
“Blergh ugh bluhhhhh” Harry spits out all the fish onto the floor having noticed a body lying on the floor of the small office room.
He had been so distracted by his anti-fish agenda he failed to remember his circumstances.
A half-American, half-Korean well built man in a janitorial uniform with shoulder length dark hair held back from his forehead by a bandana lies in the centre of the room on his side, a bottle of water-displacement 40 clutched tenderly like a teddy-bear in his arms.
“Hello mate, are you alright?” Harry whispers to the man.
Silence.
“Mate, it’s me. Harry Styles.” Harry says a bit louder, hoping the man is just hard of hearing.
The silence stretches onto something sinister. Fearfully Harry approaches the man, humming to himself to fill the terrifying silence ‘Ba, ba-ba Ba-ba, ba-ba.’
Harry gets close enough to the man, and pushes him gently to wake him up. Looking closely, Harry could tell that this man was the kind of guy his mother would write a book about. He had the face of a man who held the title of top movie director in America for a week. While Harry didn’t know who this man was, one thing was clear. This was a maintenance man.
And this maintenance man was dead.
Harry screamed.
Somewhere in Orlando, Louis Tomlinson sits in the med bay thinking of the love of his life. Louis thinks Harry Styles is so sexy he could cook an egg on him. To Louis, Harry is like a gust of the softest breeze that travels the land in the early morning as the sun’s light begins to kiss the earth gently, blessing all living things with warmth.
Fifteen minutes earlier . . .
Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson stand offside from the mainstage watching the animatronics perform. They squint their eyes as flashing lights in primary colours blue, red and yellow bounce off the walls. Where they overlap, secondary colours are created such as orange and purple. Furthermore the union of orange and purple create brown. Brown is a tertiary colour and is found all over the establishment. Harrys and Louis hairs are both all brown, as well as the pizza crusts of the pizza on the long tables. As well as the pizza crust on the pizza stickers on the wall. As well as Freddy Fazbear, the most popular bear of the pizzeria plus the chef also has a brown shirt. As well as the drying blood that covers the chest of the maintenance man.