Mike's Apartment - Friday, December 24th, 1993

Fritz straightened his tie as he waited for Mike to answer the door. Although he knew this evening wasn't a date, it still felt like one to him. It'd been a long time since he had been on one... As much as he wished to go to the party that evening with Mike, as a couple, he was prepared to honour his request to keep things quiet for the time being. After all, they still had a formal date scheduled for later.

The door to the apartment opened a crack as he peeked out at Fritz. His face lit up in delight as he saw him waiting in the hall. Pulling the door open widely, Mike looked at him from head to toe.

"You look amazing!" he exclaimed.

Fritz chuckled and held his arms out. "Ya like it?" He was wearing a charcoal dress shirt that complimented the grey colour of his eyes nicely, paired with black dress pants and a red tie.

"Yes!" Mike's eyes danced as he couldn't hide his excitement. Not that he had any need to.

He grinned, eyeing Mike's outfit selection. He was wearing navy-blue dress slacks with a matching vest, over a white dress shirt done up with a blue bow-tie around his neck. "Ya look great too, Mike," he complimented.

"Really? Thanks!"

"Hey, I wouldn't say it if it weren't true." Fritz glanced down at his silver watch fastened to his wrist, a brief flash of worry crossing over him. "Ya got your dish, right?"

"I do," Mike replied. "It's in the kitchen."

"Well, go grab it. We've gotta get goin' or we'll be late."

His eyes widened a little as the realization of the time washed over him. "Oh crap!" he shrieked as he raced to the kitchen, returning moments later with an oven dish covered in tinfoil to keep the contents inside warm. "Okay, okay, I'm ready! Let's go!"

Fritz smiled and took Mike's hand, speedily taking him down the six flights of stairs leading to the parking lot at ground level. By the time they had reached the bottom, Mike's breathing had become somewhat laboured, while Fritz's had remained unchanged.

"Why did we… have to take the stairs?" Mike complained. "A-And how are you… not out of breath?"

He shrugged. "It's better for ya." He poked his shoulder playfully. "Looks like ya need to run a bit more often."

Mike laughed airily. "I n-never run. Not unless I'm... being chased."

Fritz's tone of voice dramatically changed from a light-hearted banter to a serious one without warning. "Ya should. Everyone should value physical activity. It does wonders for the body."

"O-Okay... I'll, uh... work on it?" he replied uneasily. He was clueless as to what had caused him to change his attitude so quickly. Had he upset him? Mike hoped he not.

He grinned at him, returning to his previous demeanor. "Good. I'd be happy to help ya get started," he said as he unlocked the car. Fritz sat in the driver's seat; Mike joined him in the passenger's side, holding the warm dish on his lap. Fritz started the car and began the drive to Anthony's house for the dinner party. He was always the most charismatic and outgoing of all of them, so he was a natural fit for hosting the celebration. Even though he'd only left the hospital last night, he still insisted he was well enough to throw a party. Only Anthony would ever have been allowed to do something like that. After he'd been admitted to the hospital, Mr. Fazbear planned on cancelling the entire evening, but Anthony had made it more than clear that he intended to throw the party anyway. They all knew the only reason he had been allowed to continue with it was because his wife would be helping him.

Not long after they had left the parking lot of his building, and after his breathing had calmed down, Mike decided to start some casual conversation. If he was lucky enough, it'd be enough to erase any tension he had felt between them earlier, no matter how brief it may have been. "So, what did you make?"

"Hm? Oh, I made some green beans with slivered almonds," he stated proudly.

"That sounds nice... for vegetables."

"Ya don't eat a whole lotta green things, do ya, Mikey?"

"Uh, well..." He shifted a little and let out a nervous laugh. "Not really," he squeaked.

"Why don't ya have some tonight?" Fritz suggested.

"But vegetables are gross!" Mike whined. His reaction was about as mature as that of a toddler being told they had to eat everything on their plate. What a ludicrous request that would've been!

He couldn't help but roll his eyes a little. "Aw, come on, they're not that bad. I didn't overcook them, and the almonds go nicely with it. I'm sure you'll be surprised to find that ya might even like them."

"But they're vegetables," he groaned with distaste.

"Why don't ya just try a little?" Fritz offered kindly.

"Well... I guess I could try," he responded receptively.

"There ya go," he applauded. "And what about your dish? What have ya got for us? It smells really good."

"I made scalloped potatoes with bacon bits! Oh, and with lots of cheese!"

Fritz smiled warmly at him. "I'm sure it tastes great."

He pulled into the driveway of the the Howards house, meeting Mike's eyes one last time. As if reading each other's minds, they turned to face one another. Gazing into each other's eyes, the two of them leaned in so they were only inches apart. Fritz tenderly caressed Mike's cheek and smiled at him, and he smiled back, leaning into his touch. After a few seconds, Fritz worked up the courage to kiss him. Mike melted, wrapping his arms around him as he fully embraced the moment.

When he had drawn back, he could see a blush on Mike's cheeks along with a content smile. It had somehow made him look even cuter than he had before.

"W-Wow..." Mike stuttered nervously. Butterflies fluttered around in his stomach, but in a good way. He was almost in a daze, too wrapped up in the magic of the moment to be engaged in reality.

Fritz grinned back at him. "You're adorable." He let go and swung the car door open. "C'mon, we need to go inside." Mike snapped out of his dream-like state and nodded, following him into the cozy bungalow where the party was being held.

By the time they had arrived, it seemed as though everyone had already started without them. Each staff member was encouraged to bring their family members, so Jeremy had Adeline and Taryn with him. Naturally, Anthony had his wife with him, considering she lived there. For some reason, Maxwell was nowhere to be seen. As the other two families were chatting, Thomas was in the kitchen, preparing the turkey for them.

"Hello, hello! I'm glad you both could make it!" Anthony greeted as they came inside, hobbling over to them on his crutches. His right leg had several layers of bandaging wrapped snugly around it, visible under his dress slacks. The injury appeared to be very painful, yet it seemed to have no negative impact on his mood. He was still as chipper as ever.

"Oh, um, hey!" Mike answered, placing his dish with the others. "How are you?"

"I'm great!" he enthused. "Oh, right, you haven't met my wife yet!" Anthony beamed, clearly quite excited to be talking about the woman he loved. "It's about time you met her, seeing as you've already heard so much about her." He lead Mike over to a petite woman with sleek blonde hair, set into curls that cascaded down her back, and chestnut brown eyes. She and Anthony seemed to match in many ways. Both of them had worn classy black and white outfits to the party and had an oddly similar way of smiling. It was as if they had practiced it together numerous times until they had perfected the art of the 'impeccable charming smile'. Judging by how animated she appeared to be as she spoke, he could assume that they also both took great pleasure in socializing, laughing and joking almost non-stop.

"Dianne?"

She looked away from another woman, who appeared to be around five months pregnant. Mike concluded that it must have been Adeline she was talking to, since Jeremy had mentioned they were expecting earlier that month. It was the first time he had had the opportunity to meet her as well. Besides the lunch outing before, Mike hadn't had the opportunity to visit with his coworkers outside of work, and had not had the chance to meet their families as a result.

"Hey~!" she sang. "Welcome! You must be Mike!" Dianne offered her hand to him, which he shook.

"Hi!" Mike exclaimed, exuberantly.

Looking over his shoulder, she saw Fritz standing nearby. "There you are, Fritz! Long time no see! How've you been?"

"I've been doin' well, thanks," he said, coming over to Mike's side. He subtly glanced at Mike, who'd happened to notice and smile up at him.

"Fantastic! Make yourselves at home, alright? Bathroom's just down the hall over there," she explained, pointing to their right, "And if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask Anthony or I!" She snickered a little as she realized her error. "I guess you already knew that, and Mike could've just asked if he needed to know, but, what kind of a hostess wouldn't ensure she gave a proper greeting to her guests?"

"It's fine, thank you!" Mike giggled.

Dianne's amused expression faded a little as she glanced at Fritz. "What happened to you, tough guy?"

"Oh, you mean this?" He gestured to the healing gash on his cheek. "Just another fight," he explained nonchalantly. "It happens." He shrugged and went on to say, "It's no big deal, really."

"But you got hurt..." Mike pipped in softly.

He gave him a reassuring look. "Yeah, I did. But I'm fine." His signature crooked grin spread across his face. "Don't worry about me.

Mike nodded and returned his attention to Dianne. It was rather obvious that she had been watching them, but she refrained from commenting about it. He was mildly concerned that she had suspected that there was something between him and Fritz. Thankfully, she continued on as if the brief exchanged had not occurred...

"Oh, you have a dish? Here, I'll take that for you," Dianne offered to Fritz. He passed her his dish and thanked her. "Enjoy the party!" she added pleasantly, making her way to the kitchen.

"Do I have to?" a young voice complained from across the room. Mike looked over and saw a little girl, no older than ten, with short wavy brown hair and brilliant blue eyes sitting on the back of the couch, while Jeremy was standing beside her, trying to talk her down.

"Uh... T-Taryn, please..." Jeremy insisted.

"But I'm having fun!" Taryn shouted.

Jeremy cringed. "N-Not so loud..."

Adeline heard the ear-piercing remark and hastily made her way over. "Taryn, listen to your father and get down from there," she requested kindly. "You know better than to carry on like that."

"But he didn't actually tell me I had to!"

She became enraged at her child's response. "Taryn Marie Fitzgerald, you knew exactly what he wanted you to do," she nearly growled. "Don't give me that, young lady. Get down from there immediately."

Taryn's eyes widened in shock as she nodded and dismounted from the couch. "S-Sorry, Mom and Dad..."

Her tone softened. "I forgive you, just..." Adeline glanced at a rather nervous Jeremy briefly. "Sweetheart, you know better than that. You know he has some trouble articulating himself."

She nodded a little and looked down, ashamed of herself. Jeremy hugged her close to comfort her, without a trace of any resentment on his face. Taryn returned the hug and hid her face against his side.

Mike slowly approached the family after having witnessed the awkward situation. "Hey, uh, is everything alright?" he inquired.

Jeremy looked up at him with a small smile and a nod. He returned his gaze to Taryn, who had shifted her attention to Mike already.

"Yes, sir..." Taryn mumbled.

He frowned a little. "Why are you so sad?" asked Mike.

Adeline piped up for her. "We just had a little problem, but it's fine now."

"Oh, okay," he said. He smiled a little at the family. "I guess we haven't met before, have we?" Adeline shook her head, and he offered his hand to her. "I'm Mike."

She shook his hand. "Nice to meet you," she replied with fondness.

"I think we have some time before dinner, so, do you want to play a game?" Mike beamed at Taryn.

"Yeah!" she exclaimed.

"Let's play hide and seek! Count to twenty!" he requested before rushing off to hide, barely waiting for an answer from her.

Taryn giggled and closed her eyes, starting to count steadily. Jeremy released the hug then went to his wife's side.

"It's n-nice to see her have fun," Jeremy said.

"I agree, she could always use a new playmate," she commented. "Well, it's nice to meet him. But is he always that... excitable?"

A smirk spread across Jeremy's lips. "Y-Yeah..."

She couldn't help but snicker a little, seeing how much energy the young man had with so little stimulation. "Oh, love, you seem to find yourself with the strangest people, don't you?"

"Strange but... but nice," he added.

Adeline gazed into his eyes and smiled at him gently. "I'm glad you're making new friends. It's good for you."

He heard footsteps come close to him, and couldn't wipe the grin off of his face. Would he be found? Mike hid himself inside Anthony's blanket box, curled up inside and peeking out of the crack between the box and the lid that covered it. His legs were beginning to feel cramped from squatting in the crouched position for several minutes, and he was getting ready to give in due to his discomfort. That is, until he spotted a small hand with pink fingernails from his place, clearly belonging to Taryn. The wait would be worth it. She stopped outside the box and glanced around the room for a few moments.

"Mike?" she called out. "Where are you?"

He stifled a laugh as she began to walk a few paces away to check under the couch. The hushed sound drew her back to the box as she stared for a while before peeling the lid off, revealing Mike inside. He smiled up at her and playfully whined, "Aw, you found me!"

Taryn grinned excitedly, proud of her victory, and helped Mike out of the box. As he stood up beside her, they heard Mr. Fazbear call them to dinner.

"Race you there!" Mike challenged as he took off towards the dining room.

"Hey, no fair! You got a head start!" she laughed as she attempted to catch up.

The two of them slid into the dining room almost falling over as they tried to skid to a stop. Of course, with sock feet, it was difficult to do so. Mike was only a few inches from smacking into the wall when he managed to stop.

Fritz chuckled at them and shook his head. "There ya are. I was gettin' worried about ya." He patted the empty chair beside him. "Here, I saved ya a spot."

"Oh, thanks!" He bounced over and took his seat. The scent of a savoury turkey, stuffing, some carrots covered in a sweet sauce, and his cheesy scalloped potatoes filled his nose. It smelled delectable, and he couldn't wait to dig in. The one thing that he wasn't as pleased to see, however, was the bowl of green beans and slivered almonds waiting nearby. Fritz had obviously not forgotten about their conversation. There was also a bowl of salad lurking beside it, and judging by the look on his face, he intended to make Mike try both of them.

The guests passed the plates and began to serve themselves. Fritz passed him the bean dish without asking if he wanted any. He hesitantly took a single bean and a piece of almond. As he was about to send it along, he was interrupted.

"Aren't ya gonna take a little more?" Fritz asked.

He sighed quietly and took three more beans before quickly ridding himself of the dish.

"There ya go!" he celebrated, lightly placing his hand on Mike's shoulder.

Mike hesitantly stuffed all four of the beans pods into his mouth and forced himself to chew and swallow them. The overwhelming flavour of them and the unappealing texture almost made him gag. But because Fritz made it, he ensured he finished it. Why did vegetables have to be so gross?

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" Fritz commented.

"I guess not..." he lied. He really didn't have the heart to tell him that, no matter how well they may have been cooked, he would never like vegetables. Even if Fritz made them. That part may have helped motivate him to eat them, but it did nothing to mask the wretched taste. At least the carrots were sweet and coated in a maple syrup sauce.

After his brief torture, he heard Anthony ask him, "So, what's new with you, Mike?"

"Oh, nothing much, really," he replied calmly. Under the table, he felt Fritz take his hand in his. Mike's face flushed a light pink, worrying someone would notice. Yet, he had no idea how to communicate that to Fritz without making a fuss and drawing attention to them. He glanced up at him and hoped it would be enough.

Anthony watched the two of them in silence for a short while before uttering the very thing Mike had desperately hoped would not come up. "Wait...You two wouldn't happen to be together, would you?"

"N-No!" Mike blurted out much too quickly and without thinking, his cheeks rapidly started to match the cranberry sauce on the table. He shot his attention his plate to avoid looking at Anthony.

"Mike..." Fritz began, sounding almost crushed.

He took his hand back and fled from the table without warning, ducking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. He thought he heard someone call after him, but didn't bother to look back to see who it was. Mike locked the door behind him and sank to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest and hiding his head. He felt awful for hurting Fritz; he hadn't meant to say that. Then again, he wasn't sure of what he should have said instead. He wasn't ready to reveal that information, but it was out now whether he was okay with it or not.

What gave it away? Was he too reckless? These were some of the thoughts that raced through his mind as he sulked. Fritz sounded miserable when he had denied their relationship... Would he forgive him? Mike had no idea.

Footsteps approached the door, along with a light knock.

"Uh, hello? Hello? Mike?" Anthony called through the door, only to be met with silence. "Mike, are you alright?"

"N-No..." Mike mumbled.

"What happened back there?" he asked with concern. "You seem upset all of the sudden." There was more silence. "I know you probably want to be alone right now, but I'd like to talk to you. Maybe I can help."

"I-I messed up," he began.

"Could you open up the door?"

Slowly, the door cracked open. Anthony was leaning against the wall, supporting himself with his crutches. Mike felt even worse now, knowing he shouldn't have been standing nearly as much as he had been. Between his duties as the host, and now dealing with Mike's moping, he had a lot of rushing around to do and a lot to manage.

"Hey, that's a lot better, isn't it?"

Mike sighed. "Kind of..." He looked miserable by now.

"So, do mind telling me what happened?"

"I m-made a mistake..." he explained.

"How so?"

He stared at the floor, noticing just how large the injury Anthony had was. He brushed his hand against the door frame slowly as he spoke. "I upset Fritz... I-I mean, I denied our..." He cut himself off. "I-I couldn't keep it a secret, and it's only been f-four days!"

Anthony had a sympathetic expression on his face as he listened. "You don't need to keep anything from us... Why would you think you needed to?"

"I-I don't know..." Mike replied. "I guess I was j-just scared of what would happen. S-So I panicked and just b-blurted it out."

"You don't have anything to worry about. We're your friends, and we're happy for you."

"W-What do you mean?"

"Well, why wouldn't we be? Both of you are our friends, and we want you to be happy. I think you two make a good couple, actually," he went on in an animated manner. Anthony had clearly pieced the situation together with ease.

"R-Really...?"

"Of course!"

"You're not s-surprised?" asked Mike.

"No, not at all," he remarked. "If you thought we'd react badly to the, uh, nature of your relationship… Well, I can assure you, you have nothing to worry about. He came out to us a few years ago."

His jaw dropped. Now this was the last thing he expected to hear. Things had certainly taken a different turn at this point. Maybe his fears would be irrational, and he'd only have his mother to be concerned about.

"W-Wait, he just said that? L-Like it was nothing?"

Anthony smiled and chuckled. "Uh... yeah, he did. Well, maybe not like it was 'nothing', but he did tell us." He shrugged. "I'm sure he was worried about some of the same things that you are right now, Mike, but you really don't need to hide anything from us, alright?" When Mike nodded, he added "Come on, let's get back to dinner."

A dark expression passed over Mike's features and he gripped the door frame tightly. "He seemed so u-upset… W-What am I supposed to say to him?"

"Exactly what you just told me. Fritz is a good guy; he'll understand."

Mike nodded again, letting his hand fall to his side. Anthony grinned and backed up a few steps to give him some space to get out. He shut off the light and followed the host back to the party, taking a deep breath and hoping for the best. As much as he didn't have any reason to believe Fritz wouldn't forgive him, he still felt anxious and fearful that he would not be met with fondness. He remembered that a true relationship was based off of love and co-operation, which helped to ease his troubles.

When they got back to the table, both of them took their seats without a word. Mike only dared to glance at Fritz after he had already sat down again. Just as he had suspected, he was miserable. He had his elbow propped up on the dinner table, his forehead in his hand, staring down at his plate and pushing his food around with his fork. It broke his heart to see him so down, especially knowing he was the cause of it. At least it meant he didn't have to eat the salad now… Then again, he would have shoved back the entire bowl it it would have brought a smile to Fritz's face.

As he sat down, he was only acknowledged with a quiet sigh; the only sound in the room other than the distant melody of the soft festive music playing in the background. The entire party had their eyes on them by this point, watching and waiting to see what would happen next. "I'm s-sorry…"

Fritz looked over at him, his eyes brimmed with tears, much to Mike's surprise. Their eyes remained locked on each other's for much too long of a period of time, neither of them wanting to speak first. Mike could feel the room watching them, which only served to increase his discomfort.

"Fritz…" Mike lightly placed his hand on his shoulder, feeling him flinch at the touch. "I-I'm so sorry… I d-didn't mean what I said…"

"Ya don't want to be with me," he uttered flatly. "I understand."

"N-No, I do!" Mike shouted hysterically. "F-Fritz, please… I just freaked out, a-and…"

Fritz went back to poking at his food to avoid looking at him. "And ya denied our relationship in front of all of our friends," he finished for him with another sigh. "If ya didn't want to date me, ya should've just said so a few days ago. It would've hurt less," he mumbled.

He wrapped his arms around Fritz tightly as tears rolled down his cheeks. "B-But I do," he choked. "I-I love you! A-And I'm so, so sorry… Please f-forgive me." The entire room was silent for a lengthy period of time before Mike added, "O-Oh gosh, I said that too soon, d-didn't I?"

A sad smile spread across his lips as he gently wiped away Mike's tears. It took him a few seconds before he decided to hug him back. "No, ya didn't... Not if ya mean it."

"I do… I love you, Fritz, a-and I'm s-sorry I panicked."

"I love ya too," he said softly, keeping his voice low as he spoke into Mike's ear. He kissed his cheek and returned to his meal. He followed his lead, noticing everyone do the same; they were all too distracted by the commotion to eat. Knowing they were all paying such close attention to him unnerved him, yet as Anthony had said, no one had given either of them trouble.

"I, um..." Jeremy murmured quietly. Mike glanced at him and waited patiently for him to continue. "I'm happy... f-for you both. Congr..."

"Congratulations?" his wife supplied kindly; he nodded in agreement.

"Oh… Thanks!" Mike enthused, his usual cheerful mood returning.

Jeremy grinned softly as he resumed his meal quietly. Considering he didn't usually say much, his comment meant a lot to Mike. His friends truly did support him and were honestly excited for them. This gave him confidence to know that, despite only having recently joined the established social circles of the Freddy's staff, he fit right in. There was something to the close-knit family of sorts that had formed; an unshakable bond formed between people who had all been through hell and back together, and had refused to give up, no matter how great their loss had been. Although Mike had been through much less, it didn't seem to bother them, as they welcomed him with open arms.

The party continued on until the late hours of the night, filled with merriment and holiday cheer. Mike had almost forgotten about the less than ideal moments that had come up throughout the evening. The only other disappointment that had occurred was after dinner, where there was a depressing lack of dessert to be found. What kind of Christmas party didn't have dessert, anyway? It also mildly bothered him that Maxwell was absent without any real acknowledgement from anyone, considering he had been a staff member for a long time. Before he left, that is. Mike was hardly a close friend of his, but knowing he was missing out on the fun bothered him. However, none of these concerns were enough to keep him from enjoying himself.

Fritz drove Mike back to his building after the party had ended. He offered to walk him back up to his floor, but he insisted that he was fine to go alone, even in the dark. He was determined to be brave and do it himself. Fritz kissed him goodbye and drove off, leaving Mike to make his way inside. Along the way, he spied a familiar face: Maxwell Richmond.

"Hey, Maxwell!" he called out. "What are you doing here?"

He looked up slowly from an unrecognizable flat object he held in his hand, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette and meeting his eyes for a moment. "I live here," he stated almost coolly.

"No way, seriously?" shouted Mike with enthusiasm.

He rolled his eyes, clearly not interested in continuing the conversation. Maxwell took another drag and examined the snowbank beside him, leaning against the side of the dumpster.

Clearly, Mike didn't seem to notice his attempt to brush him off, as he wandered over to him to keep talking. "Where were you? Did you forget it was tonight?" The wall would've sooner answered him than Maxwell at the given moment. Yet, he was not deterred. He came up beside him and leaned a bit too far into his personal space, evoking a scowl and a quiet growl from him. "Maxwell?"

"Go away, Mike. You're annoying and stupid, so quit pissing me off. You're downright grating; I hate you," he grumbled venomously. "Go pester someone else. Besides, my name is Porfirio, not Maxwell. Get it that through your thick skull, will you?"

His eyes widened in hurt at the sharp insult. He could've sworn he physically felt his heart ache. Mike slinked back and mumbled an apology as he prepared to head inside to cheer himself up. Just as he was about leave, he peeked at the object in Porfirio's hand. He saw a tray of gingerbread cookies, of all things. Cooked to perfection, he observed.

"W-What are those…?" he asked timidly, looking at all of the baked sweets.

"None of your business."

He couldn't resist looking a little longer. He realized after a couple of seconds that there was something special about them. Each cookie was custom decorated to resemble a staff member, and their family members. There was one of himself, adorned with a few small dots of icing on its cheeks for freckles, a cheery smile, two blue sprinkle candies for eyes, and some light yellow icing used to make the hair. Mike's eyes sparkled in amazement as he saw each cookie on the tray, all of them created with skill and an incredible amount of detail. Not a single feature was forgotten from any of them, down to the expression on each of their faces. Fritz, Jeremy, Adeline, Taryn, Dianne, Mr. Fazbear, and one of a woman with black hair done up into two buns that he didn't recognize, were all there. Each cookie was carefully wrapped up into small transparent bags tied shut with a piece of purple ribbon. A small matching tag dangled from each one.

"These are amazing…" commented Mike. "You made these?"

"Yeah," he replied shortly.

His smile faltered a little when he got to the ones of Porfirio and Anthony. All of the cookies had a pleasant expression on their faces, except for the one resembling Porfirio: the only one that looked sad; depressed, even. The most disturbing one, however, was the one of Anthony. The Anthony gingerbread man, despite having a friendly grin, had a broken right leg that had been messily reattached with some white icing. It was an uncharacteristically sloppy repair job compared to the impressive skill seen on every other part of the cookies.

"What happened to that one?" he questioned, pointing to gingerbread man Anthony.

"It broke."

"Oh, okay…" He found it bizarre that the broken leg on the cookie happened to be the very leg real Anthony had injured. A strange coincidence. "Why does yours look so sad?" he inquired.

"Because it is." he brushed off.

Mike chose to not comment on that. Instead, he redirected the focus of the conversation. "So… Why did you make these? It looks like you put a lot of work into them!"

Porfirio glanced down at the tray in his hand. "For the party," he admitted. "They're worthless now, so I came out here to take my smoke and throw them out."

"Throw them out!" he exclaimed. "Why would you want to do that? They look amazing! You should've come to the party and brought them with you!"

"Thomas banned me from going," Porfirio hissed.

"What? Why…?"

"Because Howard was hosting it," he explained with distaste. "Apparently, he wasn't comfortable having me come."

Mike frowned, glancing between the cookies and Porfirio. "That doesn't make sense… I thought you two were friends."

"Were. That's the key word."

"Did something happen…?"

Porfirio sighed and set the tray down beside him. He took another drag of his cigarette and looked up at the sky as he spoke. "Have you thought to ask how Anthony got his leg sliced open?"

He shifted uncomfortably at the thought and turned his gaze to his feet. "Well, uh, I guess not…"

"It was my fault…" He grimaced. "That wasn't an accident." His voice began to waver. "I-I hurt him on purpose…"

He immediately began to distance himself from Porfirio as he felt his heart begin to pound in his chest. Mike was like a deer caught in headlights; terrified and unable to bring himself to run. His hands came up to cover his mouth as he was helpless to only stand by and stare. Porfirio looked over at him and frowned, watching him, his aggression seemingly gone. The change in attitude did little to calm Mike down. Just knowing that Porfirio had hurt anyone, especially his friend, scared him and made him fear for his own safety.

"Look, I'm sorry for calling you stupid and annoying; I just wanted to be alone. I don't actually hate you." Porfirio finished his smoke and put it out with his shoe. "Whatever. Don't say anything, I don't care. Anthony hates me, so what difference does it make if everyone else does as well?" he asked without expecting an answer. "Do whatever the hell you want with the cookies, it doesn't matter what happens to them. Give them to your boyfriend or something," he snapped as he stomped toward the door.

"W-Wait, how did y-"

"I saw you with the meat-head when he dropped you off. It was obvious." He rolled his eyes. "Merry Christmas, Mike," he uttered sarcastically as he went inside.

He nervously replied with "M-Merry Christmas, Por-" but door to the building slammed shut before he could finish.

He stood outside alone for several minutes as he attempted to take in everything he had just witnessed. All of the information had hit him like a two-by-four to the head. It turned out that Maxwell, more accurately Porfirio, had quite a few secrets. At least, more than the other people at work did. Mike realized he knew next to nothing about him. Porfirio was revealing himself to be quite different than he had thought; rather aggressive but also having a level of vulnerability that confused him greatly.

After processing the recent turn of events, his thoughts turned to the abandoned cookies. Mike wandered back over to the tray and looked at them once again. This time, he read the tags. Each tag had a different message for each person, all written in flowing, elegant cursive in dark purple pen.

He read the tag on his cookie, which read: 'Merry Christmas, Mike. Enjoy the time with your family tomorrow. -Porfirio Violet' Considering they had only spoken on a few rare occasions, he was very flattered at the painstaking effort he has clearly put into the gift.

Out of curiosity, Mike decided to read what he wrote to Fritz, which said: 'Merry Christmas, Fritz. Train hard and do well in your next fight. -Porfirio Violet' The friendly note did not sound anything like the insult he had heard just heard a moment ago. Especially considering that the insult was directed at his athleticism. But now he was complimenting him for it? It was hard for him to determine whether he cared for Fritz's company or not.

He picked up Anthony's cookie next. The note on his made Mike almost feel bad for how he was rejected from the party. Anthony's tag read: 'Merry Christmas, friend. I'm sorry. -Porfirio Violet' The snapped leg on the cookie was an odd detail for him to include, but it was obviously important to him. He guessed Porfirio included it to add more meaning to the message, but it could've been any number of other reasons.

Lastly, Mike checked the tag on the cookie for the person he didn't recognize. She wasn't a staff member, but was included for whatever reason. This tag read: 'Haruka, Merry Christmas, sweetheart. May your day be filled with holiday cheer. I love you. -Porfirio Violet' He noticed a small heart drawn in beside her name as he placed the cookie back on the tray.

He assumed this Haruka person was some girl he loved, probably invited to the party as his guest. Since Porfirio was uninvited, she was likely turned away as well. Seeing how much work he had put into making gifts for everyone, only to have been rejected harshly, made Mike feel awful. Sure, he was terrified of him, and for good reason, but that didn't make him a bad person. Or did it?

He took the tray of cookies and went inside his apartment for the night, brushing the sad thought from his mind. Tomorrow was Christmas Day, and it would be joyful and fun. He had trouble falling asleep as he anticipated the morning to come.