FNAF: The Finale

Lunch with a Hobo

"Fitzgerald?" Macey asked with a grin. "As in F. Scott Fitzgerald?"

"I'm sure there's some sort of relation somewhere, but it's not like he's my great grandfather or something," Jeremy replied before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Well, it's still a very unique surname," I commented.

"I could say the same about you, Schmidt."

"Touché."

"Can I get you all anything else?" our waitress asked with a smile as she approached the table.

"Can I get some more milk?" I asked.

"Sure thing, darling!"

"Jeremy, do you need more coffee?" Macey asked.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," he kindly declined.

"Then I guess that's it for now. Thank you!"

Our waitress nodded and walked away from the table.

"So, Jeremy," Macey asked, "if you don't mind me asking, what's your story?"

"Meaning?"

"How'd you end up homeless?"

"Macey, I told you," I interrupted, "He quit Freddy's and lost everything."

Jeremy suddenly cleared his throat and placed down his mug, though he wasn't looking either of us in the eye.

"Actually," he said quietly, "that's not completely accurate."

That certainly got my attention.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, I have, indeed, lost a lot because of that damn pizza franchise, but nothing really physical."

He still wasn't looking at either of us. He was just staring at his mug with a blank expression.

"So, to answer your question," he continued, presumably talking to Macey, "the reason I'm homeless is because I chose to be."

"You CHOSE to be?" Macey asked in clarification. "Why would you want that?"

Jeremy leaned back and blankly stared at the ceiling.

"It's kind of a long story," he finally replied.

"We've got time," Macey replied.

Until we get kicked out for loitering.

Nevertheless, Jeremy, while still looking at the ceiling, slowly nodded.

"I suppose I may as well get it all out," he told us. "It might be nice to talk to someone else about it for once."

Someone else? Who else could he talk to about this? He looked rather alone in that alley. Jeremy then looked at Macey and sighed.

"It all started in the summer of 1987..."

*          *          *

By the time Jeremy had finished his story, about how he worked as a night guard for another Freddy Fazbear's Pizza when he was just 17 years old, and how his older brother was the victim of this 'Bite of '87' that I recalled hearing on my first night, I was just left speechless. Macey even shed a few tears as she listened to what happened to Jacob, Jeremy's brother.

"So, you actually have had jobs the whole time you've lived like this?" she asked as she wiped her eyes. "You just gave all the money to your parents to help pay off Jacob's medical bill?"

Jeremy slowly nodded his head.

"From the moment he was released from the hospital back in '87," he told us, "to this day, even after..."