when night comes ━━ mike schmidt

𝟬𝟬𝟳 polish

WHEN NIGHT COMES / Chapter Seven

Zion stepped into the careers counsellor's office with anxiety bubbling in her stomach. It wasn't the usual counsellor she'd seen before but instead it was Steve Raglan, the one who'd recommended Freddy Fazbear's Diner and had employed her, though he wasn't technically her boss. The last she'd heard from him was on her first shift where he'd given the boring backstory of Freddy's.

Over the phone, Steve Raglan had sounded like an old man with a hunched back and an odd sense of humour.

In actuality, Steve Raglan was middle-aged and with a pleasant grin on his face. His back was not hunched, he stood straight up, which made his huge height even more terrifying. He was around 6'4, looming over Zion.

"Lovely to meet you," He held out a large hand.

"Nice to meet you, too," Zion returned, shaking his hand and sitting in the seat opposite his desk. She shifted her feet and watched as the man in front of her shuffled through her papers.

After a few moments, Steve placed the papers down and peered at Zion over his glasses, "So, how are you liking the job?"

"Excuse me?"

"Freddy's," Steve clarified, "Do you like it?"

Zion blinked at him in confusion. She was here to get a new job, not discuss her current one. "Well, it's..." She trailed off. It was boring, simply put, but she knew she couldn't say that. Zion thought of the time she had spent with Mike and a smile bloomed on her face, "It's enjoyable."

"Yeah?" Steve waited for her nod of confirmation before smiling himself, "Good! That's good. Has there been any break-ins or wrongdoings?"

"No, everything's fine. How is this related?" Zion asked, puzzled.

"Oh, well, I'm wondering if there's anything wrong with Freddy's that would lead you to wanting a new job," Steve stated as he glanced down at the sheets before him again, "It says you're also a self-employed cleaner. I'm wondering why you would replace one of these."

"I'm not replacing any of them," Zion jumped in quickly, "I'm not making enough money at the moment so I need a third job."

"Right," Steve nodded, "And you were fired from your previous job because you assaulted a coworker. Correct?"

"That is correct," Zion winced as she confirmed it. Luckily, no charges were being pressed against her for the violence.

Steve thought for a moment and took a sip from the mug in front of him. Then, his eyes widened, "Do you want some? I just brewed some fresh coffee."

"No, thank you."

"Alright, well," Steve adjusted his glasses, "You work with Mike Schmidt, right?"

"Yes."

Steve let out a mix of a laugh and a scoff, "So you're both headcases—"

"Excuse me?" Zion snapped, eyes narrowing.

"Sorry, sorry, you both have a temper," Steve corrected himself, a mocking glint still in his eye. He cleared his throat, "May I ask why you need three jobs, Ms Adams?"

Zion sighed internally, "I have to pay bills as well as provide for my sister and my mother, who is sick. I have to pay her medical bills as well."

"Oh, that's a shame," Steve mused, not sounding sorry at all, "Well, you know, I hate to say it but it doesn't seem like there are any jobs available for you at the moment. Especially not ones suited for your...violence."