NOTES

I don't have very much to say for myself. It just took me forever to get this chapter to work in a way that I wasn't disgusted with. I've also been spending a lot more time trying to think up an actual 'storyboard' of sorts, so I can have an idea of what should happen in the future, since everything I write that I write off a whim always fits into the 'OK' category.

Tomorrow morning, there's a portion of time that I know I'll be in a perfect mood to write, and have an extensive amount of time to do just that. Hopefully, that means the next chapter won't take as long to come out.

You guys are awesome, thank you for your patience.

There's a couple things in this chapter that I keep convincing myself feel forced, but I just don't know. I like this chapter and all (otherwise I wouldn't release it, which is another reason why a chapter might take forever to release.) but i feel like there's something I could have done.

But I shouldn't be shit-talking my work right when I release it, I still think it's pretty decent. I sincerely hope you think the same.

Enjoy!

Liar

I couldn't get the sleep I was hoping for.. I passed out pretty quick as soon as I hit Freddy's bed, but I wasn't asleep for long. I think it's just the environment, something about it makes me feel that sleeping here is unnatural.

I got a good four-ish hours, though, so it wasn't nothing. I spent the rest of the time until now staring at the ceiling, though. In a weird way I do kinda appreciate being awake to experience the rest, but I know it's not a replacement for the sleep I needed today.

Before I started working here, I didn't really care how much sleep I got. Sleepless nights where in the majority during the period I was chasing my father, so I figured I was just used to it by now. It might not have been healthy, but neither was having an animatronic use me as a body, so I can't say I cared all that much. That changed when I started to relax, and come to terms that my father is actually dead. Now I take good care to get as much sleep as I feel like I need, and never skimp out on it if I can help it. The reason for that is so that I could avoid what's happening to me right now.

I'm tired. And when I get truly tired, I can't conjure up enough willpower to actively distract myself from thinking about the past. Which leads to those little self-pitying depressive episodes I have occurring in much greater numbers.

Of course, it's nothing actually 'important'. I feel sorry for myself for a day, go to bed on time, and wake up the next morning right as rain. But man, days I don't get enough sleep seem to drag on forever and ever. It's like how time flies when you're having fun, but instead its time slows down to a crawl when you're wallowing pitifully into yourself.

Which brings me to what I'm doing now. It's around 11, the Pizzaplex closed down a while ago, and everyone's just about done cleaning what little there was to clean today. I, however, am sitting on Freddy's couch, looking down and wearing a neutral expression, completely lost in thought. As you can guess, not very good thoughts.

It's about Evan again; my brother Evan I mean. Having fun with the other Evan all day today came back to bite me hard, and now I can't stop thinking about my brother again.

Stupid stuff like "why couldn't I have been that cool to 'my' Evan? Why couldn't we have been friends, exploring the areas around us, getting into trouble? Why couldn't I have just been halfway decent to him- we might have been the closest of friends!.."

Ugh.. Of course, I know why. 'Cause I hated my father to hell, but couldn't do anything to get at him, so I picked on a guy half my size instead.

Unexpectedly, Roxy comes to save the day again by sliding open the door.

"Mike, let's go." She says, nodding her head in the direction of the corridor.

"Let's go?"

"Make-up, what else?"

"Isn't it a little early?"

"I have nothing to do, you have nothing to do, and you're starting to get purple again. Come on."

Roxy leaves the doorway without waiting for a response. Summoning enough energy to push myself off the couch, I follow her.

I still really like this feeling. I've gotten used to it, so there's no akwardness anymore, but I don't think I'll ever get used to the feeling of someone painting on me like a canvas. It's relaxing.

I make sure to remain obediently silent, as I promised her last night, so I just keep my eyes closed and let Roxy work.

She does a lot of things that would be considered delicate work for someone who's notorious for getting upset at things. I guess that's why she's so good at them, since any mistake would probably bug her to hell.

Though tonight, her movements are noticeably more stale. Not to say she's doing a bad job or anything, I'm sure she won't be done until it's perfect to her anyway, but the brushes are a little less fluid, and have more energy in them than what's necessary.

I don't think pointing it out would work out very well for me, so I sit still and think about something else. Not that I'd be able to tell her anyway with this vow of silence hung over me.

Tossing that topic aside, I try and conjure up something else to think about.

That was a mistake.

All it took was the memory of Roxanne's red-orange marker to get me thinking about Foxy, then to all the different iterations of Foxy over the years, then to the previous Freddy's locations, and before I realize what I'm doing, I'm already too far gone to recover from this hole I've dug myself into.

This time my thoughts revolved around the creators of the animatronics: Henry and William.

I know Henry was perfectly happy to die in the fire as I was, but knowing that I survived and he didn't feels unfair. Henry might have made some of the animatronics, but nothing he did was done with malice; it was always my father's poisonous touch that turned everything he got his hands on into an abomination of spirit and metal. At least Henry was good from the very beginning, unlike my father and I, so wouldn't it have made sense for him to be the one that escaped? Henry had nothing to be guilty for...

But he had plenty of reason to be heartbroken.

I can't even imagine what Henry might have felt upon knowing that his daughter had been killed, and worse, trapped inside that Marionette. Henry wasn't able to just mourn like any other parent might have, since he knew he had to do something for his daughter.. Even if that 'something' was unthinkable in the eyes of a parent.

Maybe that's why he was so content to die there in that building. He had to kill his own daughter, and was happy to die alongside her-

"Mike.."

My eyes snap open, and my thoughts snap back into reality. I take a second or two to readjust to reality before tilting my head a little to signal Roxy that I'm listening.

"I changed my mind, say something."

I just stare at her for a second or two, suddenly tasked with coming up with conversation material.

"Mike, talk."

"Sorry, I haven't thought of anything to talk about yet."

"You can talk about whatever, just keep saying something."

"I thought you said you wanted me to stay q-"

"I know, Mike. I changed my mind."

"How come?"

"Just talk."

"I'm talking right now, I asked you how come?"

Roxy ignores the question and just grumbles at my attempt at smartassery.

"You alright, Roxy?"

"I'm fine, Mike."

"You seem a little extra demanding tonight." I note, regretting the way it came out.

"Thanks.." Roxanne sarcastically mumbles under her breath.

"Sorry, I didn't mean in a bad way."

"How else could you have meant it?" She responds skeptically.

"In a 'out of character' kind of way."

"Mm.."

"Did you get many visitors at the raceway today?"

I see Roxy grip her brush tighter. Think that means my guess for the reasoning behind Roxy's attitude is accurate.

Shortly after, though, she audibly takes a breath and holds the brush the way she was before.

"No, Mike.. Sorry, you're right, it's been a bit of a shitty day today.." Roxy admits with a sigh.

"That's alright, you haven't offended me or anything, I was just asking." I respond gently, trying to make the most I can out of this incredibly rare instance of Roxanne apologizing for something.

"You aren't exactly looking flawless yourself, 'Mike-a-like'."

"I didn't get very much sleep in Freddy's room.. Kick Monty in the shin for letting that name spread, by the way."

Roxy smirks, successful in getting a reaction from me.

"C'mon, Mike. You were more than just 'tired' when I found you."

I assume that means she saw me sitting on the couch and staring into nothing for longer than I thought. Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure the blinds in Freddy's room were opened when the place finally closed. Maybe she saw me while she was on her way over

"Sorry, I only woke up a couple minutes before, so I was still drowsy."

"Well aren't you lazy."

"I was just-"

"And also LYING to me again." Roxy suddenly scowls, now holding her brush in front of my eye like she's holding me at gunpoint.

"Huh?"

"I could see you clear through the glass, dumbass. You were up staring at nothing for almost an hour, looking like you'd just killed somebody."

Oh shit, she must've seen me long before she even.. I've been caught. I must have been staring at the floor looking like I had killed somebody because I was thinking about my brother, who I 'did' kill..

We stare at each other for a little while longer before she sighs and starts using the brush to continue working again.

"You of all people know how much I hate lies.. I hate it when you lie in particular, Michael."

"..."

I just sit there and look at the floor, feeling like an asshole. Usually when Roxy gets mad at me, it's for something dumb, but this time I think I deserve it.

"I'm sorry.."

"It's fine, Mike. Just.. stop, alright?"

"Alright."

"So then what was it?"

"Huh?"

"What were you thinking about?"

What the hell am I supposed to say now?

"Something that happened a long time ago. It's something I find myself thinking about when I get tired, and I didn't sleep very well."

Roxanne nods, accepting my story this time.

"Bad day too?" She asks, anger in her voice no longer present.

"It's gonna be one. We'll just have to see.. Wanna have a pity party?" I ask.

"..A 'pity party'?" She looks at me skeptically.

"Yeah."

"You're making that up."

"I'm not. It's where we go around and talk about how pitiful we are." I respond, only half-kidding.

Surprisingly, that gets a small laugh out of Roxanne.

"So we just bitch at each other?"

"Yep."

"About what?"

"About whatever's got you down."

"..Okay," Roxy inhales, barely convinced that this isn't one of my stupid jokes. "I'll start."

"The people who run this place are fucking stupid." She begins. "Of course nobody went to my raceway today, 'cause it's the only place in the entire damn building that children HAVE to get a parent or guardian to watch over them."

"They do?"

"Yes! It's fucking ridiculous- the first thing that happens when a family walks in is get a friggen' bracelet that lets kids know when to come back to their parents, so of COURSE they're gonna think they can just let the child run off on its own! What the hell am I supposed to do about that? Tell kids to go get their parents so that they can do this one single fucking attraction?"

I guess it comes as no surprise that Roxy's pretty good at this whole 'bitching' thing. She's already unstoppable at this point.

"That is pretty dumb, actually."

"I know! It's like they tossed my attraction together last second, then decided it wasn't safe and let 'me' pay the price for it!"

She sits there shaking her head and lightly growling for a moment.

"Is every weekday like this?" I ask, earning a moment of contemplation from Roxy, followed by a sigh.

"No, sorry, not really.. I get a fair share of kids on most days, today's just been pissing me off.. I didn't mean to talk for so long."

"No need to apologize, everyone has bad days."

Roxy's been doing my make-up for an awfully long time now.. Maybe she has to work around the old make-up.

"I know everyone has bad days, I just don't think anyone should have to listen to those people bitch and moan about shit that doesn't apply to them."

"It applies to me."

"No, it doesn't."

"You know what I'm going to say, Rox."

"Just because we're-.. Ugh- Just because we're 'friends' doesn't mean everything that happens to me needs to be important to you!"

"It doesn't, but it does mean I get to choose what about you I find important to me."

"That barely makes any sense."

"Sorry, It's kinda hard to explain."

"Whatever."

Roxy takes a moment to change.. 'tools', I guess. I don't think I've ever seen her use that thing before, what the hell is she doing to me?

Y'know, she has been taking way longer than usual to get this done.. She isn't drawing on me or something is she? Maybe I should ask.

"What's that thing?"

"Nothing, hold still."

Oh hell no.

I do not hold still, instead kicking my chair backwards.

"Mike-!"

"Horrifyingly vague answer."

"Mike- get back here!"

Making use of the fact that Roxy's still in her chair, out of reach from me, I slide across the room to get a look at myself through the mirror.

Thankfully, she wasn't doodling on my face. I turn my head a couple different angles to see if something's there that shouldn't be, but fail to find anything. She did a good job today though, I'm lookin' about as alive as you could make me look. It felt like she finished a while ago, but she hasn't stopped putting stuff on.. I suppose she must've known what she was-

"Mike!" Roxy yells, grabbing my arm and yanking me back towards her. "What the hell's gotten into you?"

"Sorry, you were doing the make-up for so long I started to think you were drawing on me or something."

"Well I wasn't! Sit down!" Roxy demands.

"Sit down?" I look back in the mirror. "I'm not done?"

"I'm not finished yet, I still have more to do."

I continue to stare at myself in the mirror, trying to find a part of me that wasn't completely finished.

"It looks like it's done."

"It's not, sit down."

"What else is there to do?"

"I-I said I'm not done! Just sit down already!" She almost yells before yanking me away from the mirror and back into my chair.

"Ow."

"I'll tell you when I'm done, just stay a little longer!" She says, pushing down on my shoulder as if it would prevent me from escaping, while using her other hand to pick the tool she was planning to use back up.

I stare at her, which doesn't take long to incite a response.

"Look- you still have to do your turn of the stupid pity-party thing, so you're stuck here anyway!" She huffs, forcing herself to calm down.

Oh yeah.

"I don't think you'd find my story very interesting."

"Pff- like mine was?"

"I mean there's a lot I'll end up being vague about, it might not be a satisfying answer."

"Just tell me, Mike. I want to hear it."

"Alright.. What is it you're still doing to me anyway?"

"I-I'm.. The makeup on your jaw isn't the right color." She says, as if I can't feel her moving the brush-thing to my jaw from somewhere entirely different.

"If you say so.."

"Just talk already, I've asked you three times."

"Sorry."

The rooms silent for a few seconds as I sort out what I should say, what I shouldn't say, and what I should explain around.

"There was an accident a long time ago including my brother and I. It ended up killing him. This was a very long time ago, though, so it's not a sensitive topic anymore." I say, not entirely sure if I mean it.

"Damn, way to blow my story out of the water."

"Sorry."

"I was teasing, moron."

I know.

"There was something I was doing during the accident that could have directly prevented the accident from happening, but I failed to do it. Sometimes it still eats at me, but only when I get really tired like I was in Freddy's room."

"You still think about it a lot?"

"Not really. It did happen forever ago, so it doesn't mean very much to me anymore."

...

"You're lying again, Mike."

"Huh?"

"You're lying. If it didn't mean much to you, this conversation would never have happened."

Shit, I was lying wasn't I. I wasn't even thinking about it that time, I was just saying words that I deemed convenient at the time.

"..I 'was' lying, sorry.. I didn't even catch myself that time."

"It's fine, but we're breaking that habit of yours." She points the brush at me again.

"Habit?"

"You're a liar Mike. Usually it's just about stupid stuff, but you lie when you think it's convenient."

Ouch.

"I know you're doing it because you think it's to the benefit of everyone, or whatever, but if people think you're lying about small stuff, they aren't gonna trust you with big stuff." She tutors, returning to prodding my jaw with the brush.

I look down at the floor again. I never noticed since I never considered it to be that important, but I do lie a lot.. Maybe I just grew used to it after spending so much time hiding who and what I was.

"You're.. Really observant." I note out loud.

"I know." Is all she responds with.

"How come you hate lies so much?"

"I used to lie a lot too. Now I don't, and now I hate it when people lie."

Oh, I see. It must remind her of who she was. That suddenly feels like a huge portion of Roxanne's past I need to catch up on.

"What did you have to lie about?"

"Nothing I feel like telling you."

"Alrighty then."

...

"Sorry, that was mean."

"No worse than you are normally."

"I'm no longer sorry, go fuck yourself."

I get a chuckle out of that one.

From here, the conversations drift elsewhere, to more lighthearted and pointless conversation

"Being purple does not run in my family, no."

Kinda, I guess.

"So what the hell happened to you, then?"

"Another accident, one not so tragic."

"What kind of accident turns you purple?"

"Grape flavored one."

"Mike."

"Mhm?"

"...Whatever, did it also turn your eyes purple?"

"..What?"

"Your eyes. Or are you wearing contacts to match your 'grape flavored' skin?"

"My eyes are purple?"

"Yes. There is zero chance you have not noticed this."

Huh. Neat.

"I guess it must've turned them purple too, yeah."

Despite that not making even a little sense. I had never looked at my eyes too closely after I let Ennard into my skin I always got creeped out. I suppose they must've been turned purple at around the same time then, since I know my eyes used to be blue.

"...Were you serious about your accident having something to do with grape flavor?"

I chuckle.

"Godammit, Mike, stop laughing at me! I dunno what happened to you!"

"My accident was not grape flavored."

"Ugh!.."

"I should get a good look at my eyes though, I don't think I've ever heard of anyone with purple eyes before.."

"Neither have I, which is why it makes you even weirder than you already are."

"Whatever you say."

Roxy huffs for the n'th time I've made fun of her. It's incredibly fun to do, and I know she likes it too, despite how negatively she reacts.

I give it a rest and let my thoughts wander for a little while. Thankfully, this doesn't result in another episode of mine, so I think I lucked out this time around.

When I come back too, however, I notice Roxanne's also lost in though. Actually, the reason I noticed is because she's moving her brush around like usual, but it isn't actually coming into contact with my face. That's.. Is she fake-painting me?

"Rox."

"What." She responds, snapping out of her trance. She looks at me, awaiting me to continue.

"Mike. What?"

"What are you doing?"

"..What am I-?"

There we go. She sees it now, indicated by the immediate flushing.

"M-Mike!" She yells, as if it's my fault.

"What?"

"I-I'm-! Mike, y-you're just-!"

"I think I'm done, Rox."

"Y-Yes! Of course you are! G-Get outta here!" She babbles, clearly embarrassed.

Unfortunately, I'm not given the opportunity to make any more fun of her, as she had already shoved me violently out the door.