Chapter 3: A Strange Appearance

I had slept in today on my day off. The soft warmth of the blanket cocooned me, making it even harder to pull myself from the bed. Glancing at my phone screen, I squinted at the time—9 AM. With a tired groan, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and finally forced myself to sit upright, my body protesting the movement.

DING!

The sharp notification sound startled me slightly in the quiet of my room. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and saw Whitney's name on the screen. Sliding the message open, I read it through half-focused eyes:

Whitney: Hey Grey! A favor for you to do for me, please. Can you watch Glamrock Freddy and the lab for a couple of hours while I go pick up the new endoskeleton parts for Freddy? Don't forget to bring food for yourself!

I let out a quiet sigh, the kind of resigned sound you make when plans are decided for you. "I guess this is what I'm doing today," I muttered to myself, already feeling the weight of the responsibility. My thumbs moved sluggishly as I typed a reply:

Me: Yeah, I will. Let me get ready first. I'll be there in an hour.

Hitting send, I stared blankly at the screen for a moment before dragging myself out of bed. My body felt heavy, and as I trudged to the bathroom, something in the air felt...off. Not like anything specific, just that vague, nagging sense that the day wasn't going to be as ordinary as it seemed. Shaking the thought off, I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over me and clear away some of the lingering grogginess.

Even as I went through my routine, that strange feeling clung to me like a shadow I couldn't shake. I tried to ignore it, focusing instead on picking out an outfit for the day. My hand brushed past a few hangers before landing on a pair of grey cargo joggers and my favorite fuzzy brown hoodie. It was comfortable and casual, the perfect choice for what would likely be a long and uneventful few hours. I slipped on a plain white t-shirt underneath and added a gold chain necklace for a bit of style.

Once I was dressed, I made my way downstairs, the rich aroma of coffee already lifting my mood as the fancy machine hummed to life. A small comfort. I was just about to prepare breakfast—eggs, maybe toast—when the peace shattered.

BANG!

The sound erupted from the front door, sharp and forceful like someone had slammed their entire weight against it. My heart jumped into my throat as the coffee cup in my hand nearly slipped from my grip. For a moment, I stood frozen, my mind racing. Who—or what—could that be so early?

The odd feeling I'd had all morning surged to the forefront, gripping me tighter now. Swallowing hard, I placed the cup down on the counter and cautiously moved toward the door. The closer I got, the louder the sound of my pulse became in my ears.

Another loud bang! rattled the door, and my breath hitched.

Opening the door slowly, what shocked me the most was that there was this random man with dirty blonde hair on my front porch! He was sitting on one of the chairs on the porch, looking like he was going to pass out. Also, he was drenched from head to toe in his summer hiking gear and clothes.

It must be freezing out there in the October weather! I thought to myself.

"Hey, are you okay?" I shook the guy's shoulders to try to wake him up.

The guy jolted awake, "Huh?! W-Where am I?" The guy started looking around frantically.

"Hey, hey. You're okay, let's get you inside and into some fresh, comfortable clothes so you're not cold", I reassured the guy.

"O-Okay" the guy shakily stood up from the porch chair.

He almost fell down, and I reached an arm out to him. The guy grabbed it just in time from not falling. I slowly led him to the living room couch. Rushing to the laundry room, I grabbed a towel for the guy to sit on the couch. Once it was placed, the guy sat down. I ran upstairs to get him a set of comfortable clothes to change into. I rummaged through my closet, searching for something warm and simple. A pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie seemed like the best choice. As I grabbed the clothes, my mind raced with questions. Who was this guy? Why was he on my porch, drenched in summer hiking gear on a chilly October morning? And, more importantly, how did he get here?

Shaking my head, I returned downstairs to find the stranger sitting stiffly on the towel. He was staring blankly at the floor, his hands trembling slightly, either from the cold or sheer exhaustion.

"Here," I said, placing the clothes beside him. "They're probably a bit big, but they'll keep you warm. The bathroom's down the hall to the right if you want to change."

The man blinked up at me, his blue-gray eyes dazed but grateful. "T-Thank you," he stammered, his voice hoarse. Slowly, he stood, gripping the back of the couch for balance before shuffling down the hall.

As soon as he disappeared, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. My nerves were on edge, but my instincts told me this guy wasn't a threat—just someone in need of help. Still, the strange circumstances gnawed at me.

I busied myself in the kitchen, boiling water for tea and heating up some soup from the fridge. If nothing else, a hot meal might help him feel better. I also finished making myself some breakfast. The rhythmic ticking of the clock filled the otherwise quiet house, the minutes stretching long as I waited for him to return.

When he finally emerged, he looked marginally better. His wet hair was pushed back, and the warm clothes seemed to bring some color back to his pale face. He hesitated in the doorway, clutching the towel he'd used to dry off.

"Come sit," I said, nodding toward the kitchen table. "You need to eat something."

He obeyed silently, lowering himself into a chair. I placed the steaming bowl of soup and a mug of tea in front of him. For a moment, he just stared at the food, his hands resting in his lap.

"You should eat," I urged gently, sitting across from him with my coffee and meal.

Finally, he picked up the spoon, his movements slow and deliberate. After a few bites, he seemed to relax slightly, though the tension in his shoulders never fully disappeared.

"Do you remember how you got here?" I asked cautiously, not wanting to overwhelm him.

The man paused, the spoon halfway to his mouth. His brows furrowed as he stared into the bowl as if searching for answers in the broth. "I...I don't know," he admitted. "I was hiking with a group of people, I think. There was...a trail, and then..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "It's all a blur."

A chill ran down my spine. Something about his tone sent a shiver through me—not fear, exactly, but a sense that there was more to his story than he could remember or was willing to share.

"Do you have a name?" I pressed, keeping my voice calm and steady.

He hesitated again before answering. "Trevor," he said finally.

"Trevor," I repeated, testing the name. "Well, Trevor, you're safe here. You can stay as long as you need to figure things out."

His eyes flicked up to meet mine, a flicker of relief crossing his face. "Thank you," he murmured.

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed loudly on the table, breaking the quiet. I glanced at the screen—Whitney again.

Whitney: Greyson, are you coming soon? Freddy's waiting, and I really need to leave.

I groaned inwardly. I'd almost forgotten about the favor.

"Listen, Trevor," I began, standing up to go wash my dishes. "I have to be somewhere, did you want to come with me?"

Trevor finished his soup, "Y-Yeah, I don't really know what to do". I brought his dishes to the sink as well.

"Since your shoes are still drying, I'm going to grab another pair for you to borrow", I smiled softly at Trevor. He nodded in response while finishing his tea.

I ran upstairs to my room and into my walk-in closet to grab a pair of extra shoes. As I rummaged through the rows of old sneakers and boots, I tried to piece together Trevor's situation. A hiker lost and disoriented? Possible. But how did he end up on my porch in this state? And what happened to the rest of his group? My gut told me there was something off, but until Trevor could remember more, there wasn't much I could do except keep an eye on him.

Grabbing a pair of sturdy running shoes that looked like they'd fit, I headed back downstairs. Trevor was still sitting at the kitchen table, cradling the now-empty mug in his hands. His shoulders were slightly hunched, and his gaze seemed distant again.

"Here," I said, placing the shoes beside him. "These should work for now. They might be a bit snug, but they'll get the job done."

"Thanks," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He slipped them on, tying the laces with slow, deliberate movements. I could see the exhaustion in every gesture.

As I grabbed my coat and keys, I explained, "We're heading to a friend of mine's lab for the government. I promised someone I'd help out there this morning. It's not far, and you can tag along until we figure out your next move."

Trevor nodded silently, standing up to follow me to the door. He still moved stiffly, as though every step took effort. I made a mental note to keep an eye on him—he didn't seem ready to be left alone yet.

The sun had climbed a little higher, warming the air as Trevor and I stepped outside. He clutched a blanket around his shoulders like it was armor, the oversized hoodie and sweatpants I'd lent him making him look even smaller. The shoes I'd dug out for him were just a bit too big, but he didn't complain. His eyes flicked around, taking in the quiet street with the wary curiosity of someone trying to piece together a puzzle.

"You sure you're up for this?" I asked, unlocking my car. "Whitney's lab isn't far, but it might be a long day."

Trevor nodded, tugging the blanket tighter. "I'll be fine. Better than just...sitting around."

"Fair enough." I gestured for him to get in, and he shuffled to the passenger seat. As we buckled up, I caught him eyeing the car's interior like he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. He'd been quiet ever since we left the house, but I wasn't about to push him.

The drive to Whitney's lab in Vegas was relatively uneventful, though Trevor kept stealing glances at the desert landscape flashing past the windows. He seemed lost in thought, his expression distant as though trying to remember something just out of reach. I didn't press him, figuring he'd talk when he was ready.

The lab was tucked away in an industrial district, an unassuming building that looked more like a tech startup than a place where cutting-edge robotics came to life. I parked in the lot and turned to Trevor. "Alright, here's the deal. Whitney's working on a project for Glamrock Freddy—you'll meet him soon. For now, she needs us to watch over the lab while she grabs some parts for his new endoskeleton."

Trevor blinked at me, confusion flickering across his face. "Endoskeleton? Like...a robot?"

"More than that," I said with a small grin. "You'll see."

Inside, the lab was a stark contrast to its plain exterior. Gleaming surfaces, rows of high-tech equipment, and monitors displaying complex schematics filled the space. The hum of machinery was constant, a low buzz that felt almost alive. In the center of it all was a workstation with a large screen, where Glamrock Freddy's face was displayed. His digital eyes lit up the moment we walked in.

"Ah, Greyson," Freddy's familiar voice greeted, warm and resonant even through the speakers. "You're here! And who's the new superstar with you?"

Trevor froze mid-step, his eyes widening as he stared at the animated bear on the screen. "I-Is that...?"

"Freddy, this is Trevor," I said, stepping forward to ease the tension. "Trevor, meet Glamrock Freddy. Or, well, what's left of him for now."

Freddy chuckled, the sound deep and comforting. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Trevor. Welcome to the lab."

Trevor swallowed hard, his grip on the blanket tightening. "Thanks," he mumbled, still looking like he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

I pulled up a chair for him, gesturing for him to sit down while I leaned against the workstation. "Freddy's currently...uh, between bodies. Whitney's building him a new indestructible endoskeleton. Until it's ready, he's stuck here in the lab, communicating through the computer."

Freddy's digital eyes flicked toward Trevor. "So, tell me, superstar—how did you find your way to Greyson?"

Trevor hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I...I don't know," he admitted softly. "I was hiking, and then...everything's just a blur."

Freddy's tone softened. "That sounds troubling. Perhaps talking about it will help jog your memory."

I nodded, taking a seat beside Trevor. "Yeah. Start with what you do remember—anything that stands out."

Trevor shifted uncomfortably, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. "There was a group of us," he said slowly. "We were following a trail. I remember the sun, the heat...this guy was there, by my side, I think his name started with a B?...and then something happened. I don't know what, but we were on a bridge. I'm not sure. It's like there's this blank space in my head."

I exchanged a glance with Freddy, whose digital expression mirrored my concern. "We'll figure it out," I said firmly. "You're safe now. That's what matters."

Trevor's shoulders relaxed slightly, but his brow remained furrowed. "What about you?" he asked, glancing at Freddy. "What happened to your...home? The Pizzaplex?"

Freddy's eyes dimmed briefly, a flicker of sadness crossing his digital face. "The Pizzaplex suffered extensive damage. It's...not what it once was. But it's a story for another time. Right now, we're focused on rebuilding—and on making sure I'm ready to help when the time comes."

Trevor nodded slowly, though he still looked uncertain. I decided to lighten the mood. "Hey, Trevor. I'm ordering food for when Whitney gets back. Do you want anything? I was thinking In-N-Out."

The mention of food seemed to pull Trevor out of his thoughts. "Uh, yeah. That sounds good."

"Freddy? You want me to grab you anything?" I asked, half-joking.

Freddy chuckled. "Alas, I'll have to pass, superstar. But thank you for the thought."

Grinning, I placed the order on my phone, making sure to get enough for everyone. As the conversation turned back to lighter topics, Trevor seemed to relax more, even cracking a small smile at one of Freddy's jokes. Despite the strange circumstances, the lab felt warmer with all of us there. For the first time that day, I felt like things might just turn out okay.