I have an angst story coming but this AU picked me up and carried me away. I have another Big Hero 6 Au called Heroes' Journey which will be updated sometime this decade! :D

Dunno if there will be any ships in this story. Sometimes you gotta leave it open for people to play choose your own adventures with it, haha.

Also, this isn't an alive!Tadashi story, this is just set before they start at SFIT. Tadashi is fun. I wanted to play with him a bit.

Comment if you liked it or if you have a better name for this story!

Wesley Ginger shared a laptop with his younger brother Khary. Money didn't grow on trees, after all, so his parents had sometimes elected to split commodities between the two rather than splurging on a second computer. It had been more taxing when their older brother had still lived at home. That wasn't the only way pennies were pinched, but at least Wes had his own room. Sometimes.

"I'm coming in!" Khary yelled, barely bothering with the warning and just heading it in. He had just turned thirteen and had an off the wall kind of energy, he was happy and creative and fun and Wes loved him, so he didn't mind the privacy invasion. He convinced himself he didn't mind. He'd rather let his little brother hang out in his room and feel secure and happy than kick him out and make him feel like he wasn't cared about. Khary had dreadlocks like Wesley but his were a little shorter and smaller than Wes's.

"Are you using this? Can I use it?" Khary reached for the laptop. It was covered in the stickers that Khary had picked out. Wesley would've preferred to have a clean, sticker-free laptop, but it was half Khary's laptop so he didn't protest. He was going to try to get his own laptop before fall when he was at SFIT, but right now all of his money was going towards being able to pay for SFIT, and all of his free time went towards applying for scholarships or working shifts at The Lucky Cat Cafe.

"Yeah, go ahead, Khary, I don't need it right now." Khary grinned and flopped down on Wesley's bed, messing up the blankets. Wesley bit back a sigh, he could remake the bed later when Khary left.

"What's up Fred Friends?! I'm trying out a new name for the fandom, or should I say the Fredom? No, that sounds too much like freedom. I'm trying to do better with my production value-"

"Khare, you can watch YouTube in my room but you have to wear headphones, I'm working on an essay."

"Why are you working on essays in the summer?" Khary asked, "That's boring."

"It is boring, but I'm trying to be able to afford college. If my essay gets selected, people are going to give me money and I'll be able to pay for classes."

"Are you going to move out like Damon?" Khary asked, a small frown forming on his face as he fished out Wesley's headphones from the very specific spot in his bedside table's drawer.

"Probably, but not right away. My first priority is paying for my education. When I also have enough money to get my own place I will. But when I do, you can drop by at any time."

"How much money do you make at the cafe?"

"I don't make a lot of money, but every dollar counts."

"Money doesn't grow on trees," Khary chirped.

"Exactly. Why do you ask?"

"I dunno. You've just been spending so much time at the cafe and writing essays and stuff. It just seems boring and sad. Dad's always working all the time, too." Wesley frowned.

"I know… I'm sorry we haven't gotten to hang out as much, bud. I wish I didn't have to spend all my time working."

"It's okay. You still try to hang out with me at least."

"Of course, bud. I'll always try to make time for you."

"Thanks, Wes!" Khary grinned and plugged headphones in and Wesley quickly forgot his brother was there, completely invested in explaining how his experiences growing up shaped him into the person he was now. Writing scholarship essays was cathartic. They expected you to have had a hard life. You weren't a baby for writing about the things you had struggled with, and the people you were calling out never had to know that they were the first paragraph in your scholarship essay. Scholarship essays were better than therapy. Therapy, the one time he had attempted it, had made him cry. To be fair, he'd been ten. He wrote about that in his scholarship essays.

He was just on the third eloquently crafted paragraph when he remembered that Khary was in the room. He remembered that because his brother suddenly began to hit him on the shoulder.

"Yes?" Wesley asked, remembering that Khary was basically 2/3s of his age and couldn't help his enthusiasm. Honestly, Wesley was glad that Khary was still enthusiastic about stuff.

"Wes you need to listen to this!" Khary pressed play on the YouTube video, it was the same annoying, overenthusiastic, born-rich manchild that Khary was obsessed with.

"Okay Fred Friends, I actually have a favor to ask of you guys. I have been looking to hire someone in the San Fransokyo area who can help me with the production value of the videos. I know things can be a bit chaotic in my videos and sometimes that's super but I want to be able to provide you the highest quality of video and so I would love to hire someone who can help me be more organized and put together so that you guys are getting something consistently fun and enjoyable. Of course, I wanted to reach out to fans first because I would love to be able to work with someone who cares about this content as much as I do. I can only accept applicants 18 or older, if you fit the bill or someone you know fits the bill, fill out the application linked below and send me an email at the account I made specifically for this and all future job searches at fredfriendshire . Please do not email the account if you are not eligible for the job or if you are not applying for the job. I love to communicate with my fans, but this is only for business. Anyone I hire for this position will be well-compensated for their time and effort and would get a chance to be a part of this channel moving forward. Thank you again for all you do, I love all of my fans so, so, so, so much, and I'll see you guys next time!"

Wesley stared at the clip, then at his brother. Khary, seeing that Wes hadn't put the pieces together, thrust the laptop at his brother, "You should apply to work with Fred Frederickson! I bet you could make like, so so so much money and maybe you'd be able to get that place you wanted and besides he's such a cool dude and his videos are really fun and there's no one more organized than you!"

Wesley decided to humor his brother, "Okay, I'll apply for the position." He knew he wouldn't get it, but it seemed to mean a lot to Khary, and it was kinda nice that Khary wanted to help Wes get his own place and start living his dream.

"Okay. I don't wanna influence anything you write down so that it's biased or whatever so I'm gonna go hang out downstairs." Hang out downstairs was basically code for trying to make the old Wii work. It had been a joint present for the three brothers way back when Damon still lived there, and it had stopped listening to reason a long time ago. Wes must have taken it apart a thousand times trying to get it so they could play Just Dance and Mario Party again but only supernatural forces could appease the piece of junk, so you really just had to wish and pray that the Wii would awaken.

"Is mom home yet?" Wes asked before Khary could dart off downstairs.

"I think so. Or she's out grocery shopping."

"Okay, thanks."

Wes mindlessly filled out the application, but he was still in scholarship mode so he filled it out to the best of his abilities. When he finished it was time to make an obligatory appearance at dinner. At least doing the dishes afterward would give him time to think of anything other than essays and applications. Maybe this weekend, if he had time off, he'd hang out with Tadashi and Leiko. For now, he had to spend time with his parents.

"Have you applied for a better job yet?" Deborah Ginger asked as soon as they were seated and she could begin doling out homemade fried rice and eggrolls to each of her boys. Wesley instinctively flinched, not saying anything for a moment as he composed himself. He glanced at his dad and Khary, both of them ignoring the unspoken dinner war. Wes took a sip of his water.

"As a matter of fact, I did. Khary found something interesting for me to pursue." Khary looked up and beamed.

"You did it? Awesome! It's gonna be so cool when you start working with him-"

"Hey, bud, I'm probably not going to get that job. Don't get your hopes up, okay? I don't want you to be disappointed because there were better candidates."

"No better candidates than you," Khary mumbled.

"I'm glad you're putting yourself out there, Wesley. Your infatuation with that little cafe is…" Deborah paused. She glanced at her husband, waiting for him to back her up. Aaron Ginger was on his phone and didn't notice.

"The cafe's a good place to work, mom. I like it there. The owner likes me."

"You're never going to get anywhere in life working at that cafe, Wesley." Wes flinched.

"Well uh, um."

"Oh, honey, don't look at me like that I'm not trying to be mean. I just know you're not living up to your potential."

"So you're disappointed in me," Wes muttered, forking fried rice into his mouth afterward.

"I never said that. You always twist my words, Wesley Payton-"

"Hey, Wes, I got the Wii to work for a bit! If it's still alive we should play Just Dance afterwards!" Khary said excitedly, coming in clutch for a conversation change.

"Sounds fun, Khare."

The conversation drifted and Wes was soon able to get out of the spotlight. When he was washing up later he couldn't help thinking that his life really would be drastically changed if he got a high paying job with someone practically made of money, not for his parents' sake but for his own. He could get out from under his mother's disappointed scrutiny. He could finally become something. Even if he had to work with a fast-talking juvenile dude whose fanbase was entirely made up of children.

He went to bed not really believing anything would change. He might be stuck in that bedroom for the rest of his life. Damon had made it out, but his older brother was charismatic and cool and didn't have a legion of demons on hand to fill out scholarship essays. The darkness was suffocating so he stayed up for a while, polished his essays, tidied up his room, refreshed his email account a couple of times for reasons he didn't understand, and fell asleep at his desk, at the laptop.

When he woke up he bumped the computer alive and noticed that he had a new email.

"That is impossible…"