GET BIT!

He was here for the distraction. The noise of all the other survivors ambling around him, some even managing to laugh and act as if this is anywhere close to normal, proved to be good at keeping his mind busy; keeping him from thinking about Sarah; about Austin; about Thomas. It kept him from losing his mind even though, given what he'd been through, he had every reason to.

He was hardly one of the conversationalists keeping the night going. Sitting there, his fingers tracing the face of the watch on his left wrist, he might have been with one of the gathered groups but he was hardly part of them. Just another body in another seat.

Those damned animatronics he hated were more lively than he was.

"I hate pizza," he answered back as the question prompted him to turn the attention of his hands to the pizza on the plate in front of him that he hadn't touched since he'd grabbed it; picking and poking at it like a fussy child; his voice soft and graveled as if he hadn't spoken in weeks and forgot how to. "--always thought it just tasted like wet cardboard, especially at places like this, but I probably shouldn't be complaining. At least it's food right? Could be worse. We could be trying to have a party with MRE's. The meatloaf made cat food sound appetizing," Michael tried to joke. "What, uh-- what kind of pizza do you normally like?"

“ i'm from illinois, right outside chicago ... so deep dish all the way: sloppy ... too much cheese, too much sauce, a lot of toppings. ” a small pause, his eyes flicking briefly back to michael ’ s slice, still untouched. “ we gotta get you something to eat though, big guy. won't do to have my graveyard shift buddy starving halfway through it. "

" ... so, what are you into? ”

his hopes were bleak when a girl he had been chatting with, because she mentioned having a drink, got distracted by another guy as they all sat down to share a slice.

" i'd say it's average, not enough of all the seasonings we used to take for granted, " he admitted, glad to be chatting with someone more interesting. " but average is pretty damn good these days. "

shrugging, he took another bite of his second slice. " what's your favorite arcade game ? " he asked with a raised brow, ready to challenge him if he gave the right answer.

“  arcade  game…  ”  a  small  pause.  his  eyes  flick  toward  the  machines  again.  he exhales through his nose, faint. his hand goes back to his slice but doesn’t lift it immediately. “  probably  pac-man.  i  know  ...  boring.  ”

“ but i was good at it. like … actually good. ” a small shrug. he leans back slightly in his chair, eyes flicking across the table at matteo for a moment. he has pretty eyes. he had not paid much attention before. “ pac-man had a pattern. you could follow it. the rest of them, i always felt like it was just pressing buttons and wishing for the best. ”

“ my sister used to try and beat my score all the time ... she got so annoyed when she couldn’t. she’d act like she didn’t care and then just keep playing anyway. ” his mouth tightens briefly at one corner, not quite a smile. he looks down at his plate, picks up the silce: bite, chew, swallow. “ she never beat it ... but she got really close. ”

to this day, if he thinks too much about isabella, his chest tightens and his eyes water. he cannot do that. not here. not tonight. so instead he focuses on matteo's eyes again. head tipping a fraction to the side. “ what about you ? ... you seem like a fighting game guy. ”