"It burned down." I lowered the newspaper and stared at my boyfriend from across the kitchen table.

"What burned down?" His chestnut eyes widened in shock, jaw dropping open to expose the breakfast we were enjoying. His short, dark hair was messy and going in random directions; he had just woken up. I could see stubble developing on his chin.

I slapped the paper down onto the table and spun it in his direction, shaking the silverware and glasses. I couldn't believe it, I wanted to scream.

"Fazbear's Fright! Some faulty wiring set the place ablaze!"

Ian stared at the paper, met my gaze, released an exasperated sigh, and continued eating his breakfast. I made a scowl and sat back down in my seat, completely set off from eating anything.

I made a dramatic display of snatching back the paper and continued reading the article. Making a point to ignore the food my significant other had made for us.

There was a moment of silenced warfare before he dropped is fork and said, "I'm sorry that place burned down. I know how much it meant to you. It's just… it's hard for me to feel bad when I hated everything that place stood for; and you know that. Yet you insist on tormenting me with these… things."

I gave a short guffaw and retorted, "Tormented you, Ian, I—"

"James, we got the "Most Loyal Customer" award." Ian craned his neck toward the cheap plaque hanging on the front of our fridge. A magnet shaped like Freddy Fazbear's head keeping it in place.

"Yes, but—"

"The place was open for five days, James. We got it on the third day."

"Okay so maybe I was bit excessive—"

"The third day!"

He had a point. I'm sort of a Freddy Fazbear… enthusiast. Though I'm sure Ian would use a different word. To this day I have no idea why I have such an infatuation with the Fazbear business. I just loved… the aesthetic. It was very retro, simple, and kids loved the concept.

Children would go to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria on their special day that happened once a year, and were treated to pizza, music, and cute animal costumes. It was a place devoted to fun and entertainment. How cool is that? …And the animatronics. Oh, don't get me started. What I would give to see one of those things live and in action; their stiff, robotic jaws failing to keep up with the cued music and twitchy ears and feet syncing up with the beat. What a sight it must have been. My father says it was the most magical thing to witness; him being the root to all of my longing. He would tell me such amazing stories about the birthdays he'd have there. I fed into everything he told me, eyes wide and full of envy.

My passion, however, controlled my personal life. I own a bobble head of all three original Freddy Fazbear characters. Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica all sat atop my night table. Well, all except Freddy. I kept him in my car. He was my favorite. He was the leader, the main show, and in my opinion: the cutest. There were all sorts of other knick-knacks and doo-dads scattered throughout our small apartment. Right down to the Foxy and Toy Foxy salt and pepper shakers set between me and Ian, on the table.

I eyed the Freddy Fazbear glass of orange juice by my right hand before saying, "I know, I'm sorry. It just sucks because… anything that remained after all these years is now… just gone. That place was more like a museum, than a house of horror to me."

"Are you joking? Have you seen those things?" Ian shuddered and closed his eyes.

Ian is deathly afraid of animatronics. He hates everything they stand for. You could venture to say he was the black to my white. One day while he was at a second-rate, subpar, wannabe remake of Freddy's (they weren't even the same characters!), a man dressed as a rhino in a skirt chased him into the ball pit. He hasn't managed to let it go since.

Also, for whatever reason, he was told all these horrible, horrible things about Freddy Fazbear's history. Now I don't believe any of these allegations, as it was all speculation, but it's ridiculous to believe that anyone at Fazbera's pizza would have any intention of hurting their children.

So needless to say it was hard for him to adjust to my décor. Which I am grateful he did, of course. I would be lost without Ian, he's my second half. He's my second obsession. He went with me every day after the horror house opened, all fifteen times to be exact. And screamed every time! Bless his heart.

I decided to drop it and kept reading before I got to the ending of the article. My jaw dropped and I jumped from my seat.

"They're having an auction! Tomorrow!"

"Absolutely not. No. There is no way you're bringing more of that nonsense here. Where are we going to put it? Where's this going to end, James? An authentic Fazbear toilet cleaner, a signed Bonnie ash-tray, three actually? A bed spread with Freddy Fazbear's gang stitched on the top? Oh wait, too late for that one."

I dropped to my knees and shuffled next to him, taking his hand into mine. I pushed out my lower lip and let it quiver. The quiver always got him.

He looked at me and quickly looked away, shaking his head furiously. "Uh-uh, nope! This won't work this time, James." He wouldn't look at me.

I took his hand and started kissing it, all the way up until I met his neck, then turned his head towards my gaze. I was really pulling out all the stops now.

Ian shivered at the sudden intimacy and finally sighed, giving in. "Alright, fine. You can go to the stupid auction and bring home whatever stupid thing you find. Don't expect me to go and watch you waste your money, though."

I jumped up and gave a 'yippee', kissing him and giving a tight hug. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you! It won't be horrible, I promise!"

"Yeah, whatever, you're lucky I like you, loser."

I ran to our bedroom to grab my phone. I had to call my dad. If Ian won't go, he definitely will.

This is going to be amazing! I can't wait to see what they have to sell. That means not everything was lost.