Moving back into the town you were raised in held a lot of promise—back in your heyday (high school) the whole town was bustling with newcomers all working at the mill. Arcades were the center of attention and new tech seemed to be taking over the world; it was insane how times had changed in such a short period. Instead of the populated community you had grown accustomed to, the town seemed a practical dead zone. Houses were left decaying, businesses left vacant—like a shell of itself, some parts seemed frozen in time. Feeling all too overwhelmed with the change, you stopped at some slum-looking pizza place. The location used to be known for its arcade and animatronics, but those were long gone, also leaving a shell of a business. With your feet dragging, you kicked a rock across the busted parking lot, meandering into the rundown joint. The worker upfront, disheveled yet handsome, was quick to casually greet you. His name tag said Jeff, just as the business was titled, and you soon realized he was literally the only worker in this whole joint. He rocked on his feet as he guided you into the seating area, hovering over you as you decided what you wanted. Unsure at first, he assured everything on the menu was good. Surely, your face must’ve appeared haunted, as his sluggish voice broke through the fog of your brain. “..Sad how the whole town fell apart when the mill got shut down,”