TTS ➵ fnaf

One

( my moodboard )

started- september 18th 15
completed- november 10th 15

One:
Just Survive Somehow
—

  Mike Schmidt didn't know how to survive among his small one room apartment, paying the rent of a thousand dollars a month without a job. Usually he'd have a part-time job, sometimes working as a delivery boy or a pizza maker. Those were things that he'd been given credit for at times. Sometimes having past experiences were useful. Other times they were not.

  Mike sighed, stumbling upon a just recently painted park bench in his path. The grey bench already looking dry enough to sit on, let alone sleep on for those who wanted to. But, Mike just needed a break from searching and being interviewed for different jobs at a time.

  Sometimes, if he was lucky, he got three different jobs at the same time but then he'd be fired as he hadn't enough capability to maintain all these different structures. Schmidt just simply wasn't made for those type of things. Mike looked up at the blue sky, not a single cloud in sight and that gave him just the tiniest bit of hope that he'd find a job. Then, there'd it been.

  The poster that lay just underneath his shoes, and although the thin and already torn piece of paper had been worn out, Mike took it as a possibility.

  The paper read, "Help Wanted," in big, bold lettering. Mike continued reading the torn, dirty paper, doing his best to make up the words in his mind. He held the paper in hand, the wet moist feeling, tearing it in half.

"Family Pizzeria Looking For Security Guard To Work The Night Shift, 12 Am To 6 Am. Monitor Camera, Ensure Safety Of Equipment And Animatronic Characters. Not Responsible For Injury.

$120 a Week, To Apply Call
1-888-Faz-Fazbear."

Mike couldn't help but restrain the slight smile that grew upon his face. Why not call? It wouldn't hurt. $120 a week, wasn't all too terrible, right?

"Seems too good to be true," Mike muttered to himself. "But, I'll take it." He then headed out of the park, walking a bit fast, almost as if he'd been anxious to call the number in his pocket. He walked towards his grey-silver car, one that he hoped to change more than his apartment. He began more jogging than speed walking now. He just knew that this job was one to look forward to.

  Once out of the park, he was out on the street. Mike pulled open the car door roughly, as if he'd been angry at it. But, he always had had an aggressive way of doing things. Mike began the engine, the rumbling of the car shaking the seat underneath him. The feeling and smell of his car satisfied him completely. Which was strange, because he never was happy with his car, or with his life.

  Maybe this was a change for the better.

-

  Gracie sighed, rolling her eyes in disagreement as she continued mopping the mess of the floor that was in desperate attention of hand scrubbing than actual mopping.

  Scott Cawthon, on the other hand, watched as Grace threw the mop down in frustration. "Okay. It's payday, Scott. Pay me," Gracie said this in anger. Her eyebrows furrowing as Cawthon refused to pay her. The man shook his head a simple no, before letting out a loud laugh which the brunet could only ignore. Her name tag read, "Grace," and although that hadn't been her name, she didn't bother changing it. So, apparently her name'd been somewhat humorous now.

  "What's so funny, Scott?" The man didn't answer and instead ignored the small girl whom truly hadn't been in the correct mood to argue about such foolish things, like money. Grace groaned, before speaking again, "If you're not paying me then I might as well quit."

   "You can't quit." He said this simply. The words rolled of the tip of his tongue with such fluidity as if he'd practiced those lines over and over again in his office. And although Gracie would have defended herself and said something in return, she couldn't. She couldn't because she knew that Scott was right. She couldn't quit.

  "You can't quit the day shift, Grace. But, you can quit the night shift. I got a call earlier today, his names Mike Schmidt; he'll easily take your place, Grace."

  Gracie didn't know how to feel. Should she have felt sad, angered? In all honesty, Gracie wasn't jealous of this Mike Schmidt, was she?

  "Really?" Gracie said this in utter shock. Her hands shaking in hesitation. She kept her glance at the animatronics on stage instead of at Scott, she decided that she didn't like keeping eye contact as it was more of a distraction that anything else.

  "Really. He'll be coming in on Monday night, at 11:30 exactly. Hopefully." Scott murmured that last part in silence, as if intending for Gracie not to hear. Scott continued, clearing his throat before he did so, "And you'll be helping him out all through next week. No hesitation, Grace. See you Monday. Enjoy your weekend."

Enjoy your weekend. How was Gracie to enjoy her weekend when she couldn't even enjoy the week.

She just had to survive somehow.

—

i hope you enjoyed my first part! it wouldn't hurt to leave a comment or a vote. i'd really appreciate it. thank you!

(EDITED) 2017