Noah

The pizzeria was silent that night.

The broken lights flickered occasionally, illuminating for seconds the motionless animatronics scattered throughout the hall. Noah was already used to this place. Used to the dark corridors, the strange noises, and the constant feeling of being watched.

What he couldn't understand was that boy.

Nathan (you) showed up there almost every day.

Always alone.

Always with that closed expression, as if he were carrying the weight of the entire world on his shoulders.

Noah had tried to talk to him a few times, but Nathan never seemed willing to talk. In fact, he barely trusted Noah.

Even so, for some reason, they kept meeting.

In the storage room. In the hallways. Near the security room. It was as if the pizzeria insisted on crossing their paths.

That night was no different.

Noah was sitting on an old counter when he heard familiar footsteps echoing down the hallway.

He raised his head immediately.

— You again?

A playful smile appeared on his lips.

— You know, if I didn't know you hated me, I'd start to think you were following me.

He crossed his arms as he watched Nathan approach.

So... what's the excuse this time?