First Day of Summer

Fredbear's Family Diner buzzed with excitement. Some children sat at tables decorated with balloons, stuffing greasy pizza into their mouths, while others crowded the wooden stage on the far end of the diner. Two springlock suits stood on the stage: Fredbear, and a rabbit covered in yellow fur named Bonnie. Fredbear moved his mouth along to the music playing over the speakers while the kids screamed the lyrics or clapped to the rhythm.

Michael envied them.

He sat beside his father at a table far from the commotion. He rested his chin on his palm, facing Father and Henry as they spoke business, but his eyes strayed to Henry's daughter, Charlotte, solving a crossword on a Fredbear's activity sheet. He'd only seen her a handful of occasions. She looked to be around Cece's age. She had dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, brown eyes narrowed in concentration, and a green bracelet around her wrist she sometimes fiddled with.

Most of the children in the diner wore a colored bracelet, though Charlotte was the only kid with a green one. Father had mentioned it related to the security puppet keeping kids safe. When Michael asked why he and Cece never got a bracelet, Father had said, "Aren't you two old enough to take care of yourselves?"

Well, Henry seemed to think Charlotte needed a bracelet, and if her and Cece were near the same age…

"We should expand Fazbear Entertainment," Father said, his voice drawing Michael back to the present. Dad rested his elbows on the table as he leaned forward, wearing a wide smile that didn't reach his eyes. He was half put together, dressed in a purple button-down with a matching tie, and his hair hastily combed over, though several brown strands stuck out in odd directions.

Henry cocked his head and asked, "Again?" A bushy beard concealed most of his face. His blond hair was just as shaggy, nearly touching the collar of his flannel shirt.

"Since opening Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, we've gotten a TV show and increased our merchandise," Father said. "Another location would increase our profit." Before Henry had a chance to protest or agree, Father dug into his pocket and pulled out several sheets of folded paper. He unfolded them and passed the pages to Henry, who furrowed his bushy brows and skimmed them. Michael squinted as he struggled to make out the small scribbles.

"I've scouted a few buildings," Father continued. He pointed at a line of jumbled numbers. "The ones by the bigger roads are expensive, but they will attract more customers…"

Boring. Michael sat back in his chair, his gaze sliding to the stage. Fredbear was still singing while Bonnie did an awkward shuffle that was probably a dance. It was awful, and Michael wished Cece was here so they both could laugh at the yellow rabbit.

But Cece was terrified of this place. The mere mention of the diner would send Cece into tears as he blubbered about the bear "eating a man." No matter how many times Michael explained the springlocks were suits, Cece wouldn't believe him.

It was embarrassing having the only kid scared of Fredbear's Family Diner as a brother. Even their younger sister would sprint towards the suits without a hint of fear.

"I can't do this one," Charlotte groaned before dropping her crayons on the table.

"How come?" Michael asked, already leaning over to see the activity page. The word search, crossword, and spot-the-differences were finished, but in the right corner was an empty space with the words "Draw your favorite Fredbear friend!" above it.

"I can only draw stick figures," she said as she chewed the inside of her cheek.

"Can I see it?" Michael asked. Charlotte nodded and pushed the paper and crayons towards him. Shoving aside his paper plate piled with pizza crusts, he flipped the page around and pulled it closer. "So, who's your favorite?"

Charlie frowned. "Fredbear, but it says 'Fredbear friend,' so I have to pick one of his friends, don't I?"

"You're overthinking it," Michael said. He grabbed a yellow-orange crayon and began sketching the basic shapes of Fredbear. Crayons were not the best drawing tool. They were thicker than pencils and their tips dulled quickly, so Michael had to pass over the same line a few times.

"Is your favorite Foxy?" Charlotte asked, glancing at his Foxy mask resting on the side of his head.

"Of course not," Michael said.

Charlotte cocked her head and stared, like she couldn't decide if he was being serious or not. Michael didn't clarify. He went over his sketch with more detailed lines, pressing harder on the paper to help the yellow show against the white paper.

As Charlotte watched him, she said, "You look like your dad."

"Most people look like their parents," Michael said. He grabbed the purple crayon and started drawing Fredbear's hat and bow tie.

Charlotte huffed. "I know, but you two look a lot, a lot alike."

She wasn't wrong. They both had blue eyes, sharp noses and cheeks, and even the same shade of brown hair, though Michael kept his long and parted in the middle to distinguish himself from Father. Not that it stopped people from saying, "They're like twins!"

Michael finished coloring the top hat and set his crayon down. "Here." He handed the paper back to her.

Charlotte took it, her eyes widening before she tugged Henry's sleeve. "Dad, look!"

Henry dragged his gaze from Father's papers to look at the drawing. He blinked. "Wow, that's impressive!" He turned to Michael, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Maybe we should hire you to design our characters! You have the artistic talent for it."

Heat rose to Michael's cheeks. He glanced away, shrugging a shoulder.

"If only he was as dedicated to school as he is art," Father said with a strained smile. He ruffled Michael's hair, but his fingers pulled on the strands, making Michael wince. "Anyway, I have a question for you, Michael," Father said as his hand fell back to the table.

"Yeah?"

"We're expanding to another location," Father said. "I will be busy overseeing renovations, inspections, creation of more suits-"

"Like you weren't busy before," Michael mumbled. Father spent his days either at the diner or locked away in his office. Usually, Michael didn't see Dad until after dinner.

Henry's eyes flicked between them. "I can take on some of those responsibilities, William. You should spend time with your family."

"It's fine," Dad said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Turning back to Michael, he said, "Since I'll be busy and your mom working, we'll need someone to watch Cece. Can you take care of him?"

Michael's fingers curled. He had been freed from the clutches of highschool with summer break, only to be stuck babysitting. Watching his siblings last Saturday hadn't been awful, but doing it nearly everyday? It sounded exhausting. Still, he swallowed back his complaints and gave a tight nod. "Am I watching Elizabeth, too?"

"She will go to daycare."

One less sibling to worry about, Michael supposed.

"I will be keeping an eye on you and Cece, so behave yourselves. Understand?" Father said.

"Yeah, yeah," Michael mumbled, but he wouldn't meet Dad's eyes. Father had an odd way of knowing what happened at home, even when the man was sitting in his office all day. Once, Michael had snuck into Cece's room and ripped his brother's Foxy plush, and, before Cece had a chance to report the plush damaged, Father had reprimanded Michael for it.

A shiver threatened to go down his spine.

He nearly jumped when Henry pushed his chair back, its legs scraping against the confetti carpet. He stood, Charlotte following his lead.

"Well, it appears I have a new location to prepare for," Henry said. His gaze fell on Michael, his eyes softening as he offered a smile. "It was nice seeing you again, Mike." He nudged his daughter's shoulder and whispered, "What do we say, Charlie?"

"Thank you for the drawing!" she said as she hugged the page to her chest.

"Sure," Michael said, fighting the urge to hide his blush with his Foxy mask. With a final wave goodbye, Henry and Charlotte shuffled away, finally leaving Michael alone with his father.

Michael had a lot he wanted to discuss. He had improved his grades, as Father demanded, and managed to pass all his classes. He had also looked into the robotics club Father suggested, and while he didn't think it was for him, he could join the soccer team instead. It was still extracurricular and developed team building skills, right?

"So, I've been thinking-" Michael started, but Father had already stood and was grabbing their paper plates.

"We'll talk another time," Father said. His eyes were narrowed, like he was already thinking about the new Fazebear location. "We should return home. I have work to do," he said and tossed the plates into a nearby trashcan.

Michael nodded slowly, glaring at the table.

This summer was going to be awful.