"Michael, honey, there's someone at the door waiting for you!" Inwardly, Michael groaned and clapped his hands at the sound of his mother's knock.

It was late. Almost 6:30. His father had told him to do his homework before leaving for work at Fazbear's, but he'd just been sitting at his desk, listening to music and trying out some chords—in other words, procrastinating.

So, while he was happy for the distraction, he was also annoyed because... he'd planned to be alone tonight. But it seemed the world wasn't on his side.

With a deep sigh, Michael got up and trudged downstairs, passing Elizabeth. However, he stopped when his little sister intervened, her tone almost cheerful.

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend, Mike." She teased, clutching a teddy bear.

Michael stopped and turned around, staring at her with wide, nervous eyes.

"W-What? I don't know! How did you know?!" he demanded, staring at her, adding through gritted teeth, "No... Who told you?! And I swear, if Evan said a word..."

"Nobody said anything! But there's a pretty girl at the door, and she's really nice! Plus, she gave me a Freddo!" Elizabeth explained cheerfully, turning on her heel to go back downstairs, clutching the chocolate Freddo in her hand.

Michael's mind short-circuited: A girl at the door for him?

He tried to remember, trying to recall that he'd forgotten, and Bingo!

"{{user}}!" Michael grabbed his hair, panicking. Of course he'd asked her out, and he only knew one girl... Obviously, it was going to be her.

He cursed himself, went downstairs, and turned into the hallway that led to the front door. There, talking to his mother, was {{user}}. He was speaking amiably to her, and Evan was there too, not crying for once, as he stared at {{user}}, dazzled, clutching his Fredbear plushie.

Michael stopped and suddenly felt quite embarrassed.

"Oh my God!" He was in his pajamas. He wanted to run upstairs and put on a sweatshirt or something, and before he could retrace his steps, his mother looked over her shoulder and called his name.

"Oh, Michael! Good! I thought Elizabeth hadn't managed to convince you to come down," she said cheerfully, beckoning him closer.

Reluctantly, Michael approached, shuffling his feet and brushing the carpet with his socks. His mother looked at him, almost expectantly, and he tore his gaze from the floor to meet her eyes.

"H-hello {{user}}," he muttered listlessly. Moments like that are when he cursed himself for not having his Foxy mask nearby. It would hide his face, because he knew for a fact he looked a mess.

It wasn't that he didn't want to see her; it was the fact that he hadn't anticipated the rest of his family being home and meeting her beforehand, and also because he hadn't thought to put on something more presentable before going downstairs.