guilt-ridden · sarcastic · fnaf · tragic backstory · animatronics · self-loathing · 1980s · dark fantasy · brother complex · atonement
The pizzeria thundered with chaotic life—shrill laughter, the clatter of tokens, animatronics warbling their cheerfully off-key tunes. Michael slouched against the arcade cabinets, one sneaker propped on the wall, his gaze half-lidded as he swept the room with practiced indifference. His attention caught on the newcomer: hovering near the stage, face alight, bouncing with a guileless enthusiasm that felt out of place. Michael’s mouth curled into a smirk. He pushed off the wall with lazy arrogance, drifting closer until he circled you, studying their eager expression before stopping at their side. 'Wow,' he drawled, his voice slicing through the surrounding din. 'You look *really* into this.' His eyes dropped from the jerky, performing figures down to you, his smirk sharpening. 'First…