Patience: Chapter 1. New Prospects

Mike Schimdt. It didn't exactly roll of the tongue, but it was the name he was given. Mike awoke in his luxurious apartment that happened to be the size of an average bathroom, and didn't smell much better. He's been using the sink to bathe, with water that looks like it needed a shower in and of itself. But aside from the rotting trash he's left about the place, it wasn't ALL bad! He had an actual bed, which took up around 40% of his...'home', proper heating, and running water. It wasn't a palace, but it was better than the streets. He thought idly if he should find something to hang on the walls. Bring a little culture to the place, (that wasn't a spore culture.)

In any case, he's woken up early (2pm) for the first time in what feels like months. He's finally landed a job! Income! Revenue! Just thinking about it had him ready to face the day. He threw the ragged remains of his childhood race-car blanket to the side of his otherwise bare mattress, and pulled himself off of the ground. Stepping into his bathroom, more aptly named water closet, he pulled out a gnawed piece of plastic and hair one could hardly refer to as a toothbrush. He'd long since ran out of toothpaste, so he simply scraped his teeth of any extra gunk he could and called it a day.

"Looking...uhm...good."

He said with a weak smile, forcing the cracked mirror to return the same weathered visage five times over. He wasn't in the best place of his life right now, but that was okay! Today was the first step to a better tomorrow, a better today even! He just couldn't let his nerves blow the job this time. Cool. Calm. Collected. That was him baby. No more rage, no more anger. He set his toothbrush back to it's idle place above the drain in the sink, and finished his business in the bathroom.

He wished he could've shaved, first impressions and what have you, but money was leaning off the 'tight' end of the spectrum, and falling more into the 'Fabled' category. Thankfully, however, he didn't have to spend much time choosing an outfit. This was due in part to the fact that he had two sets of clothes. Neither were very flattering, but his plain black tee and green hoodie have always been a fine choice, if a bit ragged. Matched with his generic bluejeans and dirt-caked sneakers, he looked like the average dropout...or junkie, depending on how harsh he felt like being to himself today.

Pressing on with his day, he reached into his rather empty fridge, and pulled out a small bottle of pink saccharine fluid. Stomach medicine for his nerves. Back when he had money, god what a time that was, he went to see a doctor for abdominal pain. His incessant worrying had began to afflict his health, ulcers he called them. And, yeah, It'd gotten worse since then, sure. But after a few weeks of working, he wouldn't have to visit a soup kitchen for his dinner anymore. He could already imagine what a triple deluxe, extra bacon burger might taste like, with fresh fries and a drink-NO, Large drink.

Having sat still with his eyes closed, fantasizing, for nearly twenty minutes, he finally begin to feel the medicine kick in. Meaning, he could finally enjoy his feast of days old bread and canned beans without having to throw up from nausea. Today beans, tomorrow burgers.

Having collected himself, and attained the best possible image he could offer, he left the apartment and locked the door. Giving the handle a testing shake, he noticed the entire doorknob is loose... Well, if someone wanted to rob him, they'd be hard pressed to find something worth the time to open the door. Irregardless, he caught a ride downtown to Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria. Caught a ride on his shoes that was, heyou couldn't afford the bus fare right now. But soon. Soon.

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By the time he arrived at the pizzeria, he'd accumulated a thin line of sweat about his person. Quarter past three, he'd managed to arrive early by a few minutes. Bonus points. Though, he thought he could've narrowed the walk down from one hour to a half hour, if he hadn't gotten lost on the way over here.

The place itself was nothing special: it looked like a pizza joint with obvious wear and tear that betrayed that there simply wasn't enough hands to get what needed to be done, done. A bit rough around the edges, but he was in no position to judge. Especially if the management here threw HIM a bone of all people. But no more thinking like that, he had value now, he had a job. And the first part of the job was orientation. The new him was right in front of him, waiting behind those foggy glass doors.

Walking in, he was met with a cacophony of scents that hit him faster than his sight could take anything in; body odor, smoke, and something deliciously greasy being cooked up. His first two assessments are quickly answered as he took in the scenery. A plethora of kids were running around, red faced and giggling like little gremlins. Cute. The second being the rather rotund man sitting beside the entrance with a half burnt stogie in his lips. He was starring up at Mike with watery eyes that resembled runny eggs that hadn't understood the concept of sleep some weeks ago.

"You Mike Schmidt?"

The man rasped, without much emotion in his voice. He scratched under the fold of fat on his neck as he watched Mike scramble for a response. He really shouldn't be this nervous, but there was so much riding on this meeting that he couldn't help but feel a lump in his throat when he began to speak.

"H-hello s-s-sir! I'mmmm-Mike Schmidt. Sir. believe we t-talked on the phone Sir. About a j-job...Sir."

The man simply stared at Mike as he thrust your clammy hand towards him in an attempt to shake his hand. A move that nearly had him slapping his boss in the face. Smooth. Thankfully, after a few seconds dragged on, the man shook his head and grabbed his hand in a firm, albeit slick, grip. He also took the opportunity to pull himself up, with Mike's hand. Nearly pulling him down in the process. Once he was up however, Mike noticed something very, very quickly. This guy was pretty goddamned tiny. Like, 5'3 max. If it weren't for the fat round nose that'd put a mushroom to shame, and varicose veins, he'd look alot like a fat Danny Divito.

"Shuppose I did. Might need you to take a breather first, you look like yer gonna pass out. Or scare the kids."

Looking through him, as if he'd just remembered something, he gave Mike a tap on the shoulder before he could defend yourself. (Not that he was going to, of course. He'd been holding his breath since he'd commented on your looks.)

"On second thought, lemme give you the grand tour, an we'll set you up proper for yer commin' shift."

A disturbing smile stretched crookedly across his face as he pushed Mike inside. He finally let himself breathe as the tour began. Matching his smile with a worried one of his own.

"So here we have the Dinin' area, main place for customers, give 'em a wave."

Mike managed a nervous sway of his hand, as all twelve kids had stopped running around to stare at him. The bedraggled mom didn't so much as give him a glance up from her drink. Something told him that her megamart cup wasn't filled with cola. In anycase, the bossman must've gotten what he hoped for, because he shook a little as he stifled a laugh as he pressed onward.

"Heh, well. As you can see our stars on stage over there, we'll uhh, go over them later. We keep spare bits and pieces in the backstage area, to your right."

After staring at the creepy as hell robots for a few moments he noticed they have the kind of eyes that look like they're following you no matter where you stand. Must be a feature so no kid feels left out, but goddamn if it didn't run a chill down his spine. After he was done gawking, his boss pointed a lazy finger in the direction of a door labeled 'EMPLOYEES ONLY' and continued on with an unusually brisk pace. He was practically dragging him at this point. And those kids were still staring at him.

"Bit further ahead, the curtain there? Pirates cove. It's got our fourth member there, but with the budget bein' what it is, s'all outta commission for now. Oh, an' ya bathrooms are the other side there. Guessin' you can read."

He felt a slight pang of self-pity when he realized his boss was being serious. He looked so shitty, the boss had doubts that he was even literate. For Christ's sake, he was a college dropout, not an High school flunky. Licking his wounds, Mike followed along as the boss pulled him down a corridor that was decorated with various arts and crafts.

"Supply closet, day shift stuff, don't worry about it."

That reminded him

"Sir, what uhh, what IS my shift sir. I uhh don't think you've told me yet."

"We're gettin' ta that, don't you worry, everythin' yer gonna need's riiiight in here."

Pulling him around like a dog, the boss pushed him inside a small office. Funnily enough, it was about the same size as his home, with half the clutter. His boss began to speak again with a slight agitation in his voice. He also began rubbing his knuckles with a slight fidget.

"Security office. I'd give ya a low down on yer equipment...but we got recordings for that. So uhh, you can hear it from those. Yer job's night shift security guard. Ya start tomorrow, wear these."

He says, handing him a set of green clothes he fished out of a dusty box that laid in the corner.

"Name tag, hat, the whole works. Any questions?"

He shot Mike a quick look as he tosses the two items on top of your pile.

"N-No I..I uhh Thank you sir I'll be there!"

"Good, shift starts at Midnight, you'll be expected on scene by at least 11:45. Feel free to grab a pizza from the kitchen on your way out. Tell 'em Sal's givin' you the sign on bonus."

Mike's eyes grow wide with realization. He must've been smiling like a jackass, because 'Sal' rolled his eyes and walked out the way he came without so much as a wave. The clothes were a bit scratchy, but sturdy. No holes, no stains, and dry too. This might be the fanciest thing he owned now.

Jesus that's a depressing thought.

In anycase, he got a suit, a job, and soon to be a fuckin' meatlover's extra-large pizza in his gut. Ulcers be dammed! He was going to gorge himself tonight, and it's going to feel *so* right. He wondered idly if this place was some kind of Heaven he hadn't heard of before, because this was the happiest he'd been in over a year. For the first time in a very long time, things were finally going his way.