Masterpiece (Foxy x Mangle)

4

A few months after graduation, Mangle's life is a blur of sleepless nights, planning, and cooking. She's painstakingly refining her floor plan, menu, pricing—everything to make her cafe perfect. She can almost taste it: guests lining up to try her custom coffee blend or savor her lavender shortbread. She envisions the booths and tables, spaced just right to encourage connection, sunlight streaming in through large windows, filling the space with warmth. Each mistake has become a step forward, and she's anxious to see her first customer, wondering who it'll be and what they'll choose from her selection of scratch-made goods.

With another cup of coffee in hand—she's lost count of how many—Mangle keeps going, her exhaustion mounting as the days blur. No one's disturbed her in the kitchen while she's testing dishes or sketching blueprints. This pizzeria may be an odd home, but the quiet understanding between everyone makes it feel almost like family.

While sipping her coffee, Bonnie, Chica, and Freddy wander in. Bonnie raids the fridge, Chica pours cereal, and Freddy grabs coffee from her pot. They settle around the rickety table.

"Still at it, huh?" Freddy asks.

"I don't think she's left this kitchen in days," Chica adds with a grin. Mangle laughs softly.

"This hard work is going to pay off—you'll see," she replies.

"Yeah, and then I'll be buying out all your pastries," Bonnie says, mouth full. "I vow to be a nuisance."

"Please, don't," Mangle jokes.

They eat in comfortable silence, Chica playfully snatching the milk from Bonnie before he can guzzle it. Mangle watches her friends, imagining what it'll be like to leave this place. She's spent so many years here that the thought of going out on her own feels daunting. Maybe she'll live above her cafe; she likes the idea, though if Bonnie's her regular, she might have to hide her kitchen.

"Oh, Mangle, stop by my office when you have a chance," Freddy says, standing up.

For sure," she replies, though her stomach twists at the thought. Freddy rarely calls anyone to his office, and her mind races through possibilities, each one more worrying than the last.

Chica and Bonnie glance at her with raised eyebrows, Bonnie wincing as Chica gives him a not-so-subtle smack on the arm. "Mind your business," Chica snaps, and Mangle can't help but chuckle at their antics.

"It's nothing bad," Freddy says, catching her worried expression. "Just something I'd rather discuss in private." He stretches, the old chair creaking as he gets up. He pats her shoulder reassuringly before heading out, leaving Mangle both relieved and curious. Could it be something related to her parents? She pushes away the thought, shaking off the unease and refocusing on her work.

She sits back down and starts typing away on her laptop, her focus shifting back to her plans. Chica, however, watches her with a thoughtful expression. "You should go rest, Mangle. You've been at this non-stop. You're going to burn out before you even open the café."

Mangle smirks, quoting, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," and Bonnie snorts.

"Smartass," Bonnie mutters, grinning.

"Take a nap, maybe a shower," Chica suggests. "I'm not sure if that smell is you or Bonnie." Mangle tries to grab her laptop back, but Chica's faster.

While Mangle and Chica don't always see eye to eye, their relationship is civil. They're the last two girls left since the others moved on. But Mangle's too focused on her future to play any rivalry games with Chica, who often offers unsolicited advice, something Mangle finds hard to trust.

Reluctantly, she leaves the kitchen, pausing to glance around the dining room. The pizzeria is closed for the weekend, so it's eerily quiet without the usual clamor of children. She thinks about Foxy, how the act will change without her by his side. It won't be "Foxy and Mangle the Pirates" anymore—just "Foxy the Pirate." The thought is strange and bittersweet, but she knows Foxy will carry on. He always does.

Curiosity tugs at her, and she peeks into Pirate's Cove to check on Foxy. She finds him lost in painting, brush strokes covering a canvas in shades of blue and brown. It's abstract, but she can make out a hint of an ocean and perhaps the rough outline of a ship. She admires his work from afar, feeling a sense of pride and a longing she can't quite name. His talent is undeniable, though he rarely shares it with anyone. She almost steps in to say something but decides to let him be, slipping back toward her room.

Mangle sets her laptop on her cluttered desk before lying on her bed. Her thoughts drift to Foxy's painting, to his hidden talent and the unspoken connection they share. Since her graduation, he's seemed different—more distant, perhaps. She wonders if her confession that night had driven a wedge between them. She's used to people leaving her, but the thought of losing him feels unbearable.

She sighs, letting the thought linger for a moment before shaking it off. Freddy's request nags at her, so she pulls herself up, brushes herself off, and heads toward his office.

As she passes Pirate's Cove, something unusual catches her eye. She hears laughter—two voices, one distinctly Foxy's, the other... Chica's. Peeking through the curtains, her heart sinks as she sees Chica nestled in Foxy's arms, their laughter echoing through the quiet room. The sight hits her like a punch in the stomach, a cold realization settling over her. She's seen him withdrawn lately, but now, she wonders if this is why.

She forces herself to turn away before they notice her, her throat tight and her mind racing. It's probably nothing, she tells herself, probably just a friend seeking comfort. But doubts claw at her as she recalls how Chica insisted she take a break, practically shooing her away from the kitchen. Was this intentional? A part of her doesn't want to believe it, but another part can't ignore the feeling of betrayal twisting in her chest.

As she hurries away, Foxy and Chica glance toward the curtain, hearing the faint rustle. "What was that?" Foxy asks, brow furrowing.

Chica just smiles. "Probably a ghost. Don't worry about it."

Mangle grits her teeth, anger bubbling. She's in love with her best friend, but she won't let this break her. Rejection tastes bitter, but she won't dwell on what she can't control. The best revenge is moving forward, so she takes a breath, straightens, and keeps walking.