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

Light Up

Paying your rent came as a relief, it was a sign that everything was going to be okay. You used the money up on food, allowing yourself to buy some more Doritos, and the excess money on buying a new outfit. You'd been stuck in the same outfits that you'd brought from home but your new clothes almost symbolised a new start, a new identity. The past two months had been hard for sure but with the recent development in your complex relationship with William, you felt more confident.

For the past week you had thought about what he did for you. Nobody had ever been so kind yet so mean at the same time, it confused you but even you had to admit that you appreciated what he had done. You saw him occasionally when you were in work during the past week but there was some form of distance between you two, part of you believed that was for the best. To you he was a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at any moment and cause you either emotional, mental or even physical pain. The other part of you wanted to go and speak to him, but you could never find a good enough excuse to do it casually. You weren't even sure what you would say to him.

At the current moment, you were fucking around at work. The practically empty restaurant gave you the ability to mess around on the arcade games so here you were throwing basketballs at some flashing neon net. You were terrible. Your eye-hand coordination sucked to say the least but you still found it fun. Even as a child you lived for this game even after a rebounding basketball broke your nose and left you hysterical on the floor. The flashing lights flickered each time you got a point, this was one of the few things you actually liked about your job.

Eventually you ran out of quarters, which finally forced you away from the game. You huffed at seeing your terrible score on the screen as three tickets whirred out of the game; pity tickets for untalented kids. You tore the tickets from the machine and shoved them in your pocket. No witnesses.

As you walked away, you passed the kids play area. The bright claustrophobic tubes acted as a jungle above the arcade floor and the brightly coloured, highly unhygienic ball pit sat below. You looked over briefly, mainly to contemplate whether or not you'd be able to still fit into the tube systems, maybe it could be your new hiding spot? Looking over, you caught sight of the short, hunched over figure of Henry.

Henry faced the ball pit, his hands in his pockets as he stared down into the abyss of painfully bright colours. He was a direct contrast, he looked pale and lifeless. You didn't usually want to get involved in people's personal business but this time you decided to be a good person.

"Henry?"

Henry didn't turn around.
You breathed in heavily before cautiously making your way to his side. You were quiet as you approached as you didn't want to spook him yet his lack of response scared you if anything. You had watched him wander around Freddys like a ghost, no longer able to express his previous life and forced joy.
You now had a better look at him aswell. His hair and clothes matched in his disheveled nature. His shirt was untucked and covered in discoloured unwashed patches as his sandy hair looked as if it hasn't been washed in weeks. There was a numbness about him, your presence was only briefly acknowledged by his round mournful eyes flicking over to you.

"Are you okay?" It was a stupid question, obviously he wasn't okay. You weren't the best person to have around as a support force, mainly because you were awkward and didn't know how to deal with someone who was grieving. The closest thing you'd ever lost in your life was your hamster, Larry, who had gnawed his way out of his cage and disappeared forever. You thought about that hamster everyday.

"I really tried." His words were blunt but ached with a feeling of regret, "I thought I could help this business, help it after everything."

You frowned, "You did help it. Tourists like it here, right?"