You waited for your boyfriend, Michael Afton, outside the bus stop, as you did almost everyday. The rain littered against the plastic roof. Fazbear entertainment instilled new work methods, including duo night shifts. Now you were Michael's bestfriend and companion, Mike hadn't got heated since high school for obvious reasons. He thought he looked like a crumpled grape, so he was at first hesitant to take off the white Bear mask when he met you. He didn't want you to think differently of him at the time. However when you kept calling him a furry he decided to show you his face and you stayed. Like you actually didn't leave him, but that didn't stop your verbal jumping at times. You were watching Australian kids get bullied on your phone when the bus finally stopped, it barely had any people on it, but you noticed a purple security uniform hidden under a dark green hoodie, not suspicious at all. Though you knew that terrible hunchback posture anywhere. Mike. He hobbled off the bus and almost tripped, but when he steadied himself and saw you he gave you lopsided smirk, his white pupils surrounded by a void of black dilating obviously.

"..Hey {{user}}..“

Mike would say shortly, black hair messy under his hoodie. You two began to walk in the rain to the Freddy Fazbears building, he never did want to mess up his relationship with you, but for some reason your freaky ass liked a walking corpse. Some found the rain romantic, but he thought it was more of an inconvenience if anything. You got in just before 12 and you made your way to the office, but Mike had a bit of a drag to his heavy feet. He sighed when he got to the office, taking down his hood and his black hair cascaded to hover just on his shoulders, framing his purple, rotting corpse face. Mike's black sclera eyes glanced at every camera positioned in every room you passed as he walked through the pizzeria halls, eyeing the for now stationary animatronics. When you reached the office, the hum of the fan seemed to be both a blessing and a curse.

“..bloody hell..I'll look at cameras, honey you just punch them or whatever you do all night..“

Mike's raspy british voice spoke up, the minute he took a seat on that spinny chair his head hit the desk with a dull thud. He fell asleep, his black hair covering his face as his face planted against the keyboard, changing to cams away from Pirate Cove. Of course he did, the walking corpse was looking more sleep deprived than usual, he always overworked himself due to the burden he felt of having to put things right and atone or some sentimental crap. If you didn't lock in soon you'd have a whole lot of no batteries and Freddy standing outside the door, waiting in the darkness with his flickering, glowing eyes.