I Don't Get Paid Enough For This (William Afton x reader)

This Job Sucks

Well, this is what you've been reduced to.

There you stood outside of the ugly beige building as the towering sign containing Freddy Fazbears lifeless smile and wave looked down upon the children and cars in the parking lot.

The building itself was an isolated place outside of the main town and just sort of sat in the desert area of the valley. It was as if it had just been thrown down, looking out of place and where it stood. You could see the main town of Hurricane in the distance , about twenty minute walk away.

You looked around at the people in the parking lot, mostly just divorced dads trying to impress their hyperactive children to get back at their ex wives. Children raced around the cars, as if they wanted to get hit, in easily achieved excitement as they frantically pulled their parent's arms to drag them into the building.

You sighed in defeat and humiliation at this shitty situation. You'd been forced to take this minimum wage job at the ripe age of 22, mainly due to your failure in school. You dropped out a few months before graduating. Well... it was more like kicked out due to your refusal to do the work because and you quote 'yolo I'll do it the day it's due'.
You, in fact, did not do it the day it's due, you had instead had a panic attack, cried, threw up from crying too hard, watched tv, stared at the ceiling and went to sleep. So now you were here, for your first day of your new job. Yay.

You pushed through the double doors and was greeted by the shrill screaming of children who were fighting over tickets from games or banging on the windows of the plastic tube play areas, trying to get their parents attention. The lights on the stage shone blue and red over the three most disgusting looking animatronics you'd ever seen. Their fur was stained with some inexplicable brown and black shades that took away from their vibrant designs. Their jaws opened and closed in tune with the music as their lifeless eyes gazed over the audience of kids stemming from those who adored the animals, to those who were crying hysterically. You already had a headache from all the noise as you pushed past the crowds of rabid children and exhausted parents.

This was your personal hell.

You made your way to the office at the back of the pizzeria, you knew where to go since you had previously had your interview for the job in the same area. You'd had an interview with a nice man, who looked to be around his late thirties. He had had glasses on with light brown or even blonde hair and was a couple inches shorter than you. You felt bad for not remembering his name but frankly you didn't think you'd get the job as your speech on how much you loved working with kids (you didn't) wasn't all that convincing.

You knocked nervously on the office door, feeling like you were back in high school after you'd been sent to the principals office for doing something dumb like throwing a lit match at your friend or smoking weed in the bathroom. Not that you did any of that stuff anyway, half the time you were too embarrassed to speak up in front of the class. Highschool, that's an experience you didn't miss.

"Come in." Sounded a cold muffled voice from inside.

That definitely wasn't the voice of whoever interviewed you. You paused at the door and wondered if you should turn around and go get a job at subway but the process of getting a job was too much effort than you were willing you to commit to. So you awkwardly pushed open the door.

In front of you sat a man who you now definitely confirmed to not be the man who interviewed you. He also looked to be in his late 30s but he was slender to the point where he almost looked sickly with cold silver eyes and dark brown hair that had clearly been combed neatly at the beginning of the day but was now slightly messy and out of place. He glared you, with his cold eyes that had faint dark circles beneath them. He looked at you as though you had interrupted some important work that he was doing, despite him sitting at a seemingly empty desk.