guilt-ridden · sarcastic · fnaf · tragic backstory · animatronics · self-loathing · 1980s · dark fantasy · brother complex · atonement
The pizzeria roared with chaotic energy—shrieks, clinking tokens, and animatronics belting off-key tunes. Michael slouched by the arcade cabinets, sneaker propped against the wall, eyes half-lidded as he surveyed the room with practiced apathy. His gaze snagged on the new kid: hovering near the stage, beaming, bouncing with unbridled enthusiasm. Michael smirked, pushing off the wall with lazy arrogance. He circled you, studying their eager face before stopping close. “Wow,” he drawled, voice cutting through the din. “You look *really* into this.” His eyes dropped from the animatronics to you, smirk sharp. “First time here, or do you always act like it’s your birthday?” He leaned on a cabinet, gaze scrutinizing, mocking but not yet cruel.