I just don't get it, why do you want to stay? Bonnie x reader

Chapter 1

((Here we are! Not much to say . . . yeah okay let's get on with it.))

BEEP BEEP BEEP

You grumble as your alarm clock wakes you up from your slumber.

"Stupid alarm," you mutter as you hit the snooze button and crawl out of bed. You yawn, rubbing your hair, as you search for clothes. You collect a pile and walk to the shower. Dumping the clothes on the floor, you let the shower run for a moment before washing up quickly. You dress in a hurry and walk downstairs. You boil some water for instant coffee. Once you've got that mixed up, you let it cool (or put in some milk, sugar, etc., depending on what you like). You take a sip and glance at the clock. What you see makes you spit the coffee back in the mug. It's 7:45! You're almost an hour late for work! You gulp down the coffee and throw on your shoes. In the car, you wonder how you could possibly be so late. You can faintly remember your alarm going off, you hitting snooze . . . then falling asleep again. Then it went off again, and you really woke up . . . Oh no. Your boss was really strict about these sort of things.
I'll get fired for sure! You think with a groan.

You make it there in record time, but you're still over an hour late. You can see your boss asking other employees where you are, but none know. He spots you coming in. His face is almost red, he looks so angry. You wince. He storms over.

"(Y/N)!" He thunders. "YOU'RE OVER AN HOUR LATE! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!"

He chews you out for about another half hour. As he runs down, you get your hopes up. He starts looking less angry.

" . . . your fellow employees have been waiting, I've been waiting, and all over a careless mistake!"

He pauses for a moment.
I'm being let off the hook, you think, relieved.

"(F/N) (L/N), YOU'RE FIRED! DON'T SHOW YOUR SORRY FACE AROUND HERE AGAIN!" He roars suddenly, making you flinch.

"Yes, boss," you mumble and collect your stuff, throwing your uniform at him. You run outside to your car and put your face in your hands. You need money to pay the taxes, to pay for your car . . . for everything. How would you do it now? You drive home at a more normal pace. You mope around your house until you get hungry, then make a quick microwaveable meal. You sigh as you settle down to eat, grabbing newspaper. As you look through it, a small ad catches your eye.
Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria
Now hiring! To apply, call 1-800-Faz-Fazbear ((Yeah, I don't know the real number. If I'm wrong, feel free to correct me.))
I used to love that place! I should apply, You think, hoping the spot is still open. You reach for your cell phone and dial the number quickly. A slight nervous-sounding man replied.

"Yes, hello?" He said distractedly.

"Hi, I'm (F/n) (L/n), I'd like to apply for a job?" You said, making it more of a question.

"Oh, of course. We've got two slots, a waitress and a night guard."

"I'll do both," you told him, sort of surprised at yourself, but you could use the money anyway.

"Alright, if you're sure."

"Yep."

"Alright, (F/n) (L/n). You're in. You can come in today as a waitress, then we'll give you a night to rest and you can start your job as a night guard."

"Thanks!"

You hang up and dance around the house happily. You got the job! And so easily! At the time, it doesn't seem weird to you. Little did you know, soon you wouldn't be celebrating . . .

((Dun dun duuuun . . . excited, guys? Ha, I think I guess your answer. Anyways, until next time, Wolf out.))