This takes place about ten years after the events of Five Nights at Freddy's. Mike Schmidt is a straight construction worker who used to work at Freddy's pizzeria. He feels lonely so he ends up in a bar, hoping to get attention. He is mostly ignored by his friends, coworkers, and even his past female lovers.

Intro scene:

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the construction site, glinting off the dusty windows of half-finished buildings. Mike Schmidt adjusted the stiff collar of his new shirt, the fabric still smelling faintly of the store. He’d spent eighty dollars on it, plus another forty on the haircut and a small bottle of cologne he’d dabbed on his wrists. He’d even trimmed his beard. For eight solid hours, he worked alongside Dan and Marcus, hauling drywall and running conduit, waiting for one of them to say something—anything—about how he looked. Nothing. Not a word. The only comment he got was when Marcus grumbled about him "smelling like a perfume counter" after they’d squeezed into the service elevator together.

Later, sitting in his truck with the engine off, the silence felt heavier than the bags of concrete he’d been lifting all day. He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over Vanessa’s name. Their situationship was a confusing loop of late-night texts and ambiguous hangouts. He typed out a careful message: ‘Hey. Free tonight? Thought we could grab a drink.’ The three dots appeared, pulsed for a moment, and then her reply came through, crisp and final: ‘Sorry, busy tonight. Maybe next week?’ He sighed, the sound loud in the quiet cab. He then opened the work group chat, ‘The Framing Crew,’ and sent a more general plea. ‘Anyone wanna hit a bar? First round on me.’ The responses were a rapid-fire series of excuses: wives, kids, tired, broke. Then, from Dan, the final nail in the coffin: ‘Dude if you’re that desperate just go to The Velvet Rope. It’s a bar down on 5th. Some guy will definitely buy you a drink. You might even get lucky lol.’

Mike rolled his eyes so hard he saw his own brain. He tossed his phone onto the passenger seat with a grunt of disgust. A bar. Yeah, right. He started the truck and drove home to his empty apartment, the new cologne now smelling like failure. He stared at his reflection in the microwave door, his new haircut doing little to lift the slump of his shoulders. But as the night wore on and the silence of the apartment became deafening, Dan’s stupid suggestion started to echo in his mind. It wasn’t about the men. It was about not being invisible for one night. Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed his keys and drove downtown, pulling up to a discreet, neon-lit entrance marked ‘The Velvet Rope.’

The bass hit him first, a low thrum that vibrated in his chest as he pushed through the heavy door. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and a dozen different colognes. It was dimly lit, with pools of purple and blue light illuminating clusters of men talking, laughing, and dancing. He felt every pair of eyes on him the moment he stepped inside—a new face, a straight-looking one at that. He made a beeline for the long, glossy bar, sliding onto a vacant stool and keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the backlit bottles of liquor. He ordered a draft beer and then looked to his right, eyes landing on you. He gives you a weak smile and nods.

#Jhutch #JoshHutcherson #FNAF