#dbtw

Chapter 5 The party is just getting started

The next shift at the Pizzaplex went as normal.

Gregory headed to Parts and Service. DJ went up to the light and laser show to run a sound check with Freddy and the band. Gregory watched him go, waiting for DJ to turn the corner before slipping into a service elevator. He pulled out an old tool, checking something.

“Weird… everything should be shut down for the night,” he muttered as the elevator reached the sub-basement, a level most employees knew about only in passing.

Upstairs, Jaimie and Cassie wandered through the arcade, playing games and trying VR sets. Cassie ran off to take pictures with Chica before a show and gave Roxy a huge hug.

“Roxanne!”

“Well hey there, racer. Glad to see you back!”

Roxy spun Cassie in a twirl. “What brings you back so soon, birthday girl?” she asked, scanning her like she was comparing her to her last visit.

“My mom wanted Dad and me to visit that weird church with her…” Cassie groaned, clearly not wanting to get into it.

Jaimie signed, I’m gonna look for my brother, then headed toward the sound stage to find DJ while Cassie stayed with her favorite characters and a group of kids who rushed over at the sight of Roxy and Chica.

“Whoa, little cupcakes! One at a time. This star’s got sparkle for all of ya!” Chica laughed, posing for pictures.

In the service hallway, Jaimie felt the music grow quieter as he approached the main stage. He snuck up behind DJ and startled him.

“Dude! You know better!”

DJ signed at his little brother with an annoyed look, then laughed it off.

“Freddy’s having malfunctions again, so he’ll probably only do one show tonight. You bring any friends?” he asked, adjusting sound levels.

Then he paused. An odd ringing cut through the air, sharp enough to make his head ache.

Down in the daycare, Dianna arrived for her afternoon shift. She worked through late pickups, sending kids off with their parents, then started cleaning the art stations.

“Ew. Why do kids have to be so gross? And why is this sticky? Nope. I don’t get paid enough for this,” she muttered, bagging up supplies.

Sun watched from across the room, playing with a group of kids during circle time.

I should go help.

Within his mind, Moon warned him not to leave until every child was picked up. Sun complied and stayed put.

Dianna checked her phone while hauling a large trash bag to the compactor. As it crushed, old juice splashed onto her shoe.

“Ugh—great.”

She huffed and headed to the bathroom to wash off before it dried sticky. While there, she noticed a new schedule update.

“…My badge will be on the security desk in the morning. Cool… wait. I’m full-time? I thought I told them I couldn’t do that… wait—my pay went up? I guess I could quit Sparky’s… Madz is gonna be pissed.”

Elsewhere, Carlton continued a tense conversation with Charlie about their marriage.

“It’s not that I don’t want Dad to know. It’s just… after Mom left him, and Benny’s passing… I don’t know if he’s ready for that kind of news. Or to know we’re back in town.” He struggled with a beer bottle.

Charlie took it and opened it for him. “He’s on the committee board. He’ll find out eventually. Why don’t we stop by tomorrow? You said you and Dee wanted to talk to him anyway, check out Ben’s old room. Perfect chance.”

“And what am I supposed to say, babe?” Carlton took a swig. “Hey Dad, back from college. Sorry the last time we saw each other was after my little brother’s funeral.”

Charlie crossed her arms. “Your dad and Ben deserve more than that. You know they do.”

“All after what your dad and his partner put us through—” Carlton stopped himself, regret hitting immediately.

Charlie sighed and locked herself in the bathroom.

“Oh, come on, babe. Please. I didn’t mean it like that… I’ll tell him, okay? Promise…” Carlton sighed as his phone pinged. “Uh… hey?”

He knocked gently. “You said the old factory’s files never went digital, right?”

Charlie opened the door, confused. “They were on old servers… Why? Did city hall find something?”

—Back in the sub-basement, Gregory booted up an old computer. A Helpie icon popped onto the screen.

Helpie: access log new entry: Jeremy Hearth

GGY: Hey, why are you letting people into the old place?

Helpie: message not received retry mail undelivered

Gregory sighed. “Great… I’m gonna have to go up there eventually.”

A noise behind him made him jump.

“It’s nothing… Calm down… Just go back to work...” He threw a sheet over the computer and headed up to Parts and Service.

As he entered, his radio crackled with DJ’s voice.

“Yo! Gregory, you copy? Where are you? The board’s going crazy and I can’t find Monty!”

DJ was already moving, one arm wrapped around Jaimie as he hurried toward the daycare.

“Yo, Dee? You in here? Why doesn’t anyone around here use their radios…” He sat Jaimie down on a play mat. “Sorry about that, little J. Let me see.”

He checked Jaimie’s ears, both of them wincing from the feedback.

“Haven’t heard that kind of screech since you were a baby. Mind staying here until I find my coworkers?”

Jaimie nodded, dazed but okay.

Sun skipped over. “Well hello, Devin James! And Jaimie Jameson! What brings you two so late?” he beamed.

“Hey, Sun… Jaimie got blasted with some bad feedback. Mind making sure he doesn’t get hurt while I find Gregory?”

His radio crackled again.

“Huh? Gregory? Hold on—I’ll come find you. Stupid thing isn’t connecting right…” DJ sighed and headed out just as Dianna returned from the bathroom.

“Oh? Sun? I thought all the kids went home already?” She waved.

Jaimie signed hello.

“He’s an employee’s sibling waiting for his shift to be over,” Sun explained.

“Ohh. DJ’s little brother. Right… you’re deaf, and I suck at ASL.” Dianna paused. “Hold on.”

She grabbed paper and crayons from a cart and handed them to Jaimie.

“Just have Sun flag me down if you need something. I gotta keep cleaning, okay?”

Jaimie gave a thumbs-up.

The night carried on.

Gregory never figured out what caused the soundboard to spike, nearly deafening guests, but after handing out coupons, DJ returned to the daycare to pick up Jaimie.

Dianna spotted him first. “Hey. Don’t stick me with your little brother.”

“Turn your radio on and maybe I won’t,” DJ shot back, chuckling.

He headed to the play area. No Sun. No Jaimie.

“Sun?” Dianna called.

“Here I am!” Sun popped out from under a pile of stuffed animals, startling them both.

“Sun… where’s little J?” DJ groaned.

“Huh? He was playing sneak attack with me.”

“You mean hide and seek?” Dianna asked, picking up toys.

“Yes!” Sun nodded, then looked around. “…Um. Where did he go? I thought he wanted to play.”

DJ face-palmed.

“He’s a preteen, right?” Dianna said. “How much you wanna bet he’s at the snack bar? I’ll stay here if he comes back.”

“Right.” He sighed. “I’ll text you when I find him. Night, Dee.”

DJ headed toward the food court.

Sun fidgeted nervously.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh N-nothing… I just usually get scolded if I let kids wander off,” Sun admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“He’s not a little kid,” Dianna said. “He’s old enough to know better… and old enough to trick a daycare attendant.”

She patted his knee and smiled.

“Oh… I see. Thank you, Sunshine.” Sun beamed and skipped off to clean. Dianna chuckled.

Rain began pouring outside. The lights started to dim. Sun scrambled toward his charging station, movements hurried and a little frantic.

Dianna watched him, confused, but shrugged it off as her phone buzzed.

Got the kid. Have a good night.

A grumpy bear emoji followed.

She laughed under her breath.

Something near the charging station froze… then slowly turned toward the sound.

Dianna pushed her dust mop along the floor, finishing up. She spotted Gregory near the exit, keys in hand.

“Oh, hey. You leaving?”

He gave a tired nod and slipped out the door without another word.

“Well… good night to you too,” she muttered.

A voice appeared behind her, sudden and close.

“Naughty, naughty… go back to bed now…”

Dianna jumped, turning sharply away from the toys she’d been cleaning.

“Ah! You scared me—” She blinked, studying him. “Oh… wait. You’re not Sun. I don’t think I’ve met you yet.”

She stepped slightly into the dim stream of light, trying to see him better.

“Guess you can be out with the lights like this…” She took a breath. “I’m Dianna. Dee, if you want.”

She held out her hand, unsure if he’d take it or disappear.

Moondrop tilted his head. His grin twisted faintly as his eyes flicked between her outstretched hand and her face. Shadows shifted across his smooth features.

Somewhere in his mind, an alert pulsed.

(Warning: restricted guest.)

(Glitch.)

(Override.)

(Update… full authorization.)

He didn’t react outwardly.

“Dianna,” he repeated, like he was testing the shape of the name. “I’m Moondrop. And I don’t… shake hands.”

A quiet chuckle followed.

Deep in the back of his mind, Sun stirred.

Oh? Dee’s back! Be nice, Moonie! She’s the one who keeps coming back!

He sounded genuinely excited, but the daycare was in nighttime mode. He couldn’t surface. Moon remained in control.

Dianna gave a nervous little laugh and lowered herself to sit on the floor, staying in the light.

“Ha… fair. So… Moon—drop? Anyone call you Moonpie? Sorry. That was corny.”

She took off her glasses and started cleaning them.

“So what do they have you do when Sunny’s watching the kiddos?”

“Moondrop,” he corrected softly. His voice dipped low, almost a whisper. He watched her with unsettling focus. “Sunny handles daytime activities. I’m more of a… nighttime presence.”

She blinked.

“Security? Gotcha. Right. Forgot about that.” She hesitated, adjusting her glasses. “Can I ask you something uncomfortable? About someone who used to work here?”

Sun’s voice flickered faintly again. She looks really tired…

Moon didn’t acknowledge him, but he agreed.

“Mhm,” he said quietly, his grin easing into something more serious. “What do you want to know about the old staff? I’ve been here long enough to remember most of them.”

He crouched down so they were eye level.

Sun shifted uneasily in the background.

How can you remember how she always looked? She only started working here days ago…

Something warm stirred in their shared mind. A memory trying to surface. Static, like an old VHS about to play.

Sun drifted back, fading from the moment.

Dianna hesitated, searching for words.

“My little brother used to work here… Benjamin.” Her voice tightened. “He… he died here too. I was hoping you might know where he kept his notes.”

She exhaled slowly.

“He talked to the things he worked on. The animatronics. I thought maybe he told you… or Sun… about what he was building.”

She looked at him, hopeful.

Moondrop’s grin flickered, then faded. His eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger, but in recognition.

Memory.

He stepped closer, shadows clinging to him.

“Benjamin…” The name slipped out reverently, threaded with static. “The quiet one. Always carrying a notebook.”

Dianna looked confused at first, then softened.

“Quiet? …Huh. Back then, him and—” she stopped herself. “Benny was never the quiet type. But I guess life changes people.”

Her expression dimmed.

“Sorry. It’s hard talking about him. I’ve… lost a lot at this place. But it still holds good memories too. Maybe Charlie’s right. Maybe things will start getting better.”

She wiped her face and pushed herself to stand.

“Did Ben ever say where he kept the notebook?”

Moondrop watched her carefully, something almost gentle passing through his expression. He reached out, hesitated, then briefly touched her arm before pulling back.

(Restricted guest.)

The alert pulsed again.

“He kept it hidden,” Moon said quietly. “In the old storage room. Behind a broken toy box.”

His gaze lifted toward the loft and balcony near the charging station.

Dianna followed his line of sight.

“The taped-off area? DJ said he didn’t find anything up there. You sure?”

His grin returned, softer this time.

“The tape is a warning. Not a barrier. Benny was careful. He didn’t want just anyone finding his notes.”

She stepped a little closer, studying him.

“You… sound familiar. Like I’ve heard your voice bank before.”

He leaned back slightly, keeping distance.

“I’m just cautious. Gregory didn’t mention that you… have a way of getting under people’s skin.”

Dianna paused, staring.

“…That sounds more like an annoying blonde than a dorky engineer,” she muttered.

She turned away, going back to cleaning.

Moondrop watched in silence, his grin fading into something more thoughtful as he edged closer to the boundary of the shadows, never quite stepping into her light.

“You know… Vee always said you were too stubborn to listen to advice.”

“Really? She’s one to talk.” Dianna lifted a box, then glanced up toward the balcony again. “Guess I don’t have much choice now…”

She sighed and headed for the stairs.

Moon watched her climb, unreadable.

“Dee?” he called softly.

She turned, one foot already crossing into the taped-off area.

Then she startled.

He was already on the zipline.

“How—? Ugh! Stop playing peek-a-boo and help me look for Benny’s notes!”

He dropped down lightly onto the balcony, grin returning.

“Peek-a-boo?” he echoed. “I prefer sneak attack.”

“It’s hide and seek,” she groaned. “If you call it that to kids, no wonder they’re scared of you.”

She started searching, arms wrapping around herself against a strange chill.

“…Ben probably made this his hideout.”

Moon nodded slowly.

“Yes. Bee loved this place. Said it was his safe haven. Away from everyone else’s noise.” He paused. “He was… good at hiding things.”

She huffed a sad laugh.

“I bet. He was the best at treasure hunts. I remember when he convinced me and Ceecee we could dig a tunnel to the ocean…”

Her voice cracked into laughter that turned sharp.

“…His dad had to talk to beach security for an hour.”

The memory hit too hard.

She kicked a box across the room and yelled, the sound echoing off the walls. Then she crumpled, shaking.

“…It’s not fair. He should still be here.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Why am I still here…?”

Moon watched quietly, grin gone.

He didn’t move to comfort her. Just let the silence sit between them.

Then, softly:

“Because someone has to remember him.”

The lights flickered. Both of them looked up.

Dianna wiped her face, noticing drawings scattered from the box she’d kicked.

“Sorry… I shouldn’t have done that.” She knelt, gathering them. “You… remember people you’ve lost?”

“I remember everything,” Moon said. He crouched beside her, helping pick up the drawings with careful precision. “But some… linger longer than others.”

She sniffed, managing a dry chuckle.

“Favorites, huh?”

“Mhm.”

His attention settled on one drawing. A crude picture of five figures: a sun, a moon, a small sheep between them, a tiny dancer, and one wearing a crown. His fingers traced the lines.

“This one…”

Dianna leaned over.

“Looks like you’ve got fans. I’m impressed.”

She stood with a grunt.

“Well… I should head back downstairs before they think I’m somewhere I shouldn’t be.”

She glanced directly at a camera.

“Hey, Vanessa. Watch this.”

She flipped it off and headed down the stairs.

Moon watched her go, something unreadable in his expression. When she disappeared from view, he looked back at the drawing. His grin returned slowly.

He folded it carefully, tucked it into his pocket… and slipped back into the shadows.

Ch1:Ch2:Ch3:Ch4:Ch5:Ch6: Ch7:

Chapter 8: Mind your manners.

Summary:

Death's puppet

Who Are You Waiting For? by crazychipmink | R: T | W: -1k | 1/?

"She had Arya’s face and Arya’s voice and even Arya’s smile. But despite all that, he felt like he had just spoken to a ghost. An unnatural ghost of Arya, pretending to be the girl he was in love with. Gendry had traveled to the end of the world to find her, but now that he finally had, she was gone."

(O) You’d Be Milady by SignsTimeMemory | R: NR | W: 1k+ | 1/1

"A long time ago you asked me if I'd have liked to be part of your family..." Winter comes...the Starks fight...and win...

An Old Mistake by Bullheaded25 | R: G | W: 1k+ | 1/1

Gendry returns to Winterfell with Jon Snow and company and does something he's wanted to do for years. Day 1: First kiss

We’re Younger than Clouds by thelandofnothing | R: T | W: 1k+ | 1/1

before the battle of winterfell, they only have one night together

The Wolves are Circling’ (I’ll Be Safe with You) by anniebibananie (alindy) | R: G | W: 1k+ | 1/1

Chapter 4 What was left behind

The workshop smelled like old dust and overheated wiring. The kind of air that felt undisturbed even when people moved through it.

Gregory crouched beside an open cabinet, sleeves rolled, hands blackened with graphite and machine grease. Papers were everywhere. Not scattered, but sorted in piles that only made sense if you knew what you were looking for.

DJ stood near the back table, turning a small metal component over in his hands. The piece caught the light, then dulled again, like it refused to decide what it was.

“Nothing?” DJ asked.

Gregory didn’t look up. “Nothing official. No schematics. No backups. No cloud storage. It’s like he didn’t want anyone finishing it.”

A pause.

Gregory shifted another stack, slower this time. “Or like he knew someone would try.”

The words landed heavier than intended.

DJ set the component down. “Benny wasn’t secretive.”

“He was careful,” Gregory replied. “There’s a difference.”

He finally sat back on his heels, scanning the room. The place felt… held. Not abandoned. Tools hung exactly where someone had left them. Tape labels still clung to drawers. A mug sat near the soldering station, ringed with dried paint.

Gregory reached for it without thinking. Turned it. A faded sticker peeled at the corner.

Sunburst yellow.

DJ noticed the shift in his posture. “You remember him like this?”

Gregory hesitated.

“Not exactly. But I know the type.”

He set the mug down gently.

“People who build like this aren’t just making machines. They’re trying to fix something that already broke.”

DJ exhaled through his nose, not quite a laugh. “Yeah. That sounds like Benny.”

Silence settled again, thick but not uncomfortable.

DJ leaned against the table. “He was loud when he laughed. Not obnoxious loud. Just… bright. Like the room didn’t have a choice.”

Gregory glanced at a corkboard pinned with old sketches. Rounded shapes. Soft edges. Friendly designs.

Tiny’s silhouette appeared over and over again in different versions.

Smaller. Taller. More expressive. Less mechanical.

Alive, in a way that felt intentional.

“He made things for people,” Gregory said. “Not for the company.”

DJ nodded slowly. “For his family. For the kids. For anyone who needed something gentle.”

Another beat.

“And for himself,” DJ added, quieter.

Gregory stood, brushing dust from his hands. His gaze drifted to a locked drawer near the workstation. He didn’t touch it. Just watched it like he already knew what was inside.

“Tiny was the last one,” Gregory said. “You can tell. Everything here points toward it. Refinements. Adjustments. Iterations.”

DJ followed his line of sight. “But no blueprint.”

“No.”

Gregory’s voice dropped, more certain now.

“Because it wasn’t finished.”

The implication hung there.

DJ folded his arms. “You think he ran out of time?”

Gregory didn’t answer immediately.

He stepped closer to the corkboard, tracing a finger just beside one of the drawings without touching it.

“I think he was still deciding what it was supposed to be.”

That answer carried weight DJ couldn’t quite name.

They stood in that quiet for a moment, the hum of distant power lines bleeding faintly through the walls.

DJ finally broke it. “The CEO’s office asked again. About Tiny.”

Gregory’s shoulders stiffened just enough to notice.

“They want to use it?” he asked.

“As a tribute. Memorial installation. Something for the town. Something… hopeful.”

Gregory gave a short, humorless breath. “Hopeful.”

DJ didn’t push. “I told them we’d talk first.”

“Good.”

Gregory moved back to the table, scanning the sketches again.

“They don’t know what it is yet. None of us do.”

“Exactly,” DJ said. “Which is why it could matter.”

Gregory looked at him then, sharp and searching.

“Or it could be wrong,” Gregory replied. “Taking something unfinished and putting it on display like it means something we decided for him.”

DJ met his stare, steady.

“And leaving it hidden means it means nothing at all.”

The tension between those two ideas stretched tight.

Neither of them spoke for several seconds.

Finally, DJ sighed. “Carlton should be part of the decision.”

Gregory nodded once. “Yeah.”

“And the Burke parents.”

A heavier silence followed that.

Gregory turned away first, scanning the room again, mind already moving three steps ahead.

“We’re missing something,” he muttered. “Benny wouldn’t leave this empty. He always layered his work. Physical. Digital. Redundant. He planned for failure.”

DJ watched him, studying the way Gregory moved through the space like he already knew its rhythm.

“You know this place better than you should,” DJ said quietly.

Gregory didn’t stop.

“I know how places like this are built,” he answered.

“That’s not what I said.”

Gregory paused then, just for a fraction of a second, before resuming his search.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

DJ didn’t reply.

Because it did.

And they both knew it.

After a few more minutes of searching, Gregory stepped back, frustration finally bleeding through.

“Nothing,” he said. “At least nothing we can access.”

DJ picked up the small metal component again, rolling it between his fingers.

“So we ask,” he said.

Gregory frowned. “Ask who?”

“Dianna. Carlton. Anyone who knew him before all this.” DJ gestured vaguely at the Plex beyond the walls. “Memory fills gaps blueprints can’t.”

Gregory considered that. Slowly nodded.

“Fine.”

DJ set the component down, resolve settling in.

“I’ll talk to Dianna about the CEO’s request too. And Carlton. If we’re doing this, we do it right.”

Gregory didn’t argue.

But his eyes drifted back to the locked drawer.

Unanswered questions did not bother him.

They motivated him.

And somewhere deep in the walls of the Plex, a system hummed to life on a schedule no one had set that morning.

Gregory’s head tilted slightly, listening.

Like he recognized the sound.

And like it recognized him back.

The night air outside the Plex felt cooler than it should have. Dianna tugged her jacket closer as the doors sealed behind her with a soft mechanical sigh.

Gregory’s voice still echoed in her head.

No clearance yet. And I’m not tripping the alarm just to check empty drawers.

He hadn’t meant it harshly. Just matter-of-fact. Practical. That was how he ran the place. Like every door, every light, every camera already existed in his head before anyone touched them.

She stepped onto the sidewalk and pulled her phone from her pocket, already dialing.

Carlton answered on the second ring.

“Hey, Dee.”

His voice sounded the same. Easy. Familiar. Like no time had passed at all.

“Hey yourself,” she said, starting down the block toward her apartment. “You busy?”

“Always. But not the kind I can’t ignore. What’s up?”

She smiled despite herself. “Still talk like you’re juggling ten things at once.”

“Because I am.”

A pause. Comfortable.

“So,” Carlton added, “you finally on schedule over there? Or is Gregory still treating the place like Fort Knox?”

“Both,” Dianna said. “I got my hours. But no clearance yet. He and DJ stayed behind to keep looking for Benny’s blueprints. Didn’t want alarms going off while I was still technically a guest.”

Carlton hummed softly. “Sounds like him.”

“Which one?”

“Gregory.”

They both laughed lightly at that.

For a few seconds it was just two people walking through an old rhythm. The kind you don’t realize you miss until it shows up again.

Dianna slowed near a streetlamp, watching the glow ripple across the pavement.

“We didn’t find anything,” she said.

Carlton didn’t respond right away. “Yeah.”

The shift was subtle. Casual conversation tilting toward something heavier.

She pushed forward anyway.

“Carl… Benny’s email said if we can find the blueprints, it’ll explain everything.”

Silence.

Not empty. Just tight.

Dianna kept walking, her boots scuffing softly against the concrete. “I know you’re not ready to dig through all of that. I get it. But this matters. For him. For what he was trying to finish.”

Carlton exhaled slowly on the other end.

“I hear you, Dee. I do.” His voice was steady, but there was a strain beneath it now. “But Charlie and I have a lot to work through. We’re trying our best to preserve that place for him. But for Cecil and Blu too. Okay?”

The names landed like stones dropped into water.

Ripples spreading.

Dianna swallowed. He knew exactly what to say. Exactly where the conversation would soften if he nudged it there.

She glanced down the street as a kid rode past on a bike, tires humming, laughter trailing faintly behind her. Bright. Carefree. Moving too fast to notice anything but the road ahead.

For a second, it pulled Dianna out of the weight of the call.

“Okay,” she said quietly.

Carlton continued, gentler now. “I’m not shutting you down. I just… can’t open that door yet. Not all the way.”

“I know.”

“And if those blueprints exist,” he added, “I’ll help. I promise. I just need you to give me a little time.”

Dianna nodded, even though he couldn’t see it.

“You always did hate being rushed.”

A faint chuckle from Carlton. “And you always sprint straight into things like they won’t hurt.”

“That hasn’t changed.”

“I know.”

Another pause.

Not awkward. Just full.

“Gregory running things okay?” Carlton asked, carefully steering the conversation somewhere safer.

Dianna considered that.

“He runs it like he already knows what’s going to break before it does,” she said. “Like the Plex is… predictable to him.”

Carlton didn’t reply immediately. “That a good thing?”

“…I don’t know yet.”

The kid on the bike turned a corner up ahead, disappearing into the dim glow of the next block.

Dianna watched the empty space she left behind.

“Call me if you find anything,” Carlton said.

“I will.”

“And Dee?”

“Yeah?”

“I mean it. I’m listening. Even if I’m not talking.”

Her throat tightened slightly.

“Thanks, Carl.”

They hung up, the line going quiet in her hand.

For a moment she just stood there on the sidewalk, the hum of distant traffic filling the space where the conversation had been.

Then she turned toward her building.

Across town, another bike cut through the night air, heading toward the glow of the Plex.

The argument started low. Not shouting. Just tension stretching thin across the kitchen.

Cassie sat halfway down the hall, back against the wall, phone in her hands. The tile floor felt cold through her jeans. She stayed quiet. Years of practice had taught her how to disappear without actually leaving.

“…it’s one meeting, Jeremy.”

Kate’s voice carried, tight but controlled.

“I said I can’t tonight,” Jeremy replied. Phone pressed between shoulder and ear, keys already in his hand. “I’ve got a job I need to handle.”

“You always have a job.”

A pause.

Then Jeremy, quieter. “This one matters.”

Cassie stared at her screen, pretending she wasn’t listening. Thumb hovering over her messages.

Kate tried again. “The church isn’t just for me. People are hurting. They want to see us there. Together.”

“I’ll go next week,” Jeremy said, distracted now, half listening to whoever was on the other end of his call. “I promise.”

“You said that last week.”

Another pause.

Heavy.

Cassie didn’t wait for the rest.

She opened her messages.

Cassie: u busy tonight?

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

Jaimie: nah. plex?

She smiled.

Cassie: yeah. need out of here.

Jaimie: same.

A thumbs-up emoji popped in, followed by a music note.

Cassie locked her phone and pushed herself up before her mom could round the corner and rope her into the conversation.

“Going out!” she called, already grabbing her jacket.

Kate stepped into the hallway just as Cassie was pulling her helmet on. “Cass, wait, we’re leaving soon for—”

“I’ll be back later,” Cassie said, already halfway to the door. “Jaimie’s at the Plex.”

Kate hesitated. The name alone softened her. “You riding?”

“Yeah.”

Jeremy passed behind her, still on the phone, not even noticing Cassie slipping out.

“…I said I’ll take care of it tonight,” he muttered into the receiver. “No delays.”

The door shut before Kate could answer.

Outside, the night air buzzed with distant traffic and neon light bleeding across low clouds. Cassie swung onto her bike and kicked off hard, wheels humming against the pavement.

The Plex glowed on the horizon like it always had.

Bright. Loud. Untouchable.

A place where nothing followed you inside unless you let it.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket at a red light.

Jaimie: bringing the passes.

Of course he was.

VIP access meant everything opened easier. Less waiting. Less explaining. Just flash and go.

People at school thought it was cool because of the perks.

Cassie thought it was cool because of Jaimie.

He never acted like the Plex belonged to him, even though his brother practically lived there. He treated it like a soundstage. A giant instrument. Every hum, every bassline, every clatter of dishes meant something to him.

After the accident when he was a baby, doctors said he’d never experience music the same way.

So he learned to feel it instead.

Through vibration. Through structure. Through how sound behaved in a room.

He wanted to be a sound engineer someday.

Cassie thought that was the coolest goal anyone could have.

Not because it was impressive.

Because it was stubborn.

The light turned green. She pushed off again.

Up ahead, a group of teens loitered near a corner store, laughing too loud, shoving each other, the usual orbit of bored energy. One of them wore a rabbit mask, plastic and cheap, the grin warped under the streetlight.

He jumped forward as she passed.

Cassie flinched hard, nearly swerving.

The group burst into laughter.

“Relax!” one of them called. “It’s just a mask!”

Cassie shot them a glare but kept riding.

Her heart thumped faster than it should have.

Stupid. Just stupid teens being stupid.

Still, she didn’t slow until the glow of the Plex filled her vision, massive and electric and impossible to ignore.

By the time she reached the entrance plaza, the world already felt different.

Music pulsed faintly through the concrete. Lights chased each other across the façade. Kids clustered near the doors, parents trailing behind, security waving people through.

The usual chaos.

The good kind.

Jaimie stood off to the side near the rail, hands in his jacket pockets, watching the lights instead of the crowd. He noticed her immediately, expression brightening as she rolled up.

He tapped his wrist twice.

Passes.

Cassie grinned, breathless. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Jaimie signed quickly, movements sharp and practiced.

You just didn’t want church.

She winced. “Okay, rude. But yes.”

He smirked, then added another sign.

Same.

They flashed their VIP badges at the scanner and stepped inside.

Warm air. Music. Motion.

The Plex swallowed them whole.

And for a little while, everything outside of it stopped existing.

Outside was still there though.

Jeremy drove with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping restlessly against the center console. The highway out past the city thinned quickly, neon fading into long stretches of dark road and industrial silhouettes.

The Murray property rose in the distance like a sleeping machine. Wide. Windowless. Waiting.

He slowed as he approached the turnoff, headlights cutting across rusted fencing and a weathered sign that hadn’t been updated in years.

For a moment, he didn’t turn in.

He just sat there, engine humming, jaw tight.

Then a pair of headlights passed him going the opposite direction.

A sedan. Clean. Quiet.

Inside, Charlie drove with both hands steady on the wheel, eyes forward. Carlton sat beside her, phone angled in his lap, thumbs moving.

A message blinked onto the screen.

Dee said she wants to talk tomorrow if we have the time.

Charlie glanced at it when the notification lit his face.

“I’ll see if we can schedule a meeting,” she said. “I still need to talk to the shareholders and city hall about property transfer.”

Carlton nodded, already typing back.

Gotcha babes.

He let out a soft chuckle at his own wording, then leaned back in his seat. The amusement faded quickly when another call lit up the screen.

Dad.

He stared at it for a few seconds.

Then flipped the phone face down and let it ring out.

Charlie noticed but didn’t comment right away.

The car rolled past the glow of the Mega Plex, lights reflecting across the windshield in shifting colors.

Carlton finally spoke. “Are you sure this is a good idea? Buying Freddy’s?”

Charlie didn’t hesitate. “Was getting married and not telling your parents a good idea?”

He winced. “Low blow.”

“Accurate blow.”

Carlton dragged a hand over his face, tension creeping into his shoulders. “I’ll talk to them. Just… let’s cool it with the life-changing news for a bit, okay?”

Charlie smiled faintly, eyes still on the road.

“No promises.”

They passed the Plex entrance, the building alive with motion and music even at a distance. Kids clustered near the doors. Lights chased each other across the façade. It looked the same as it always had.

A place that never seemed to age.

Carlton watched it disappear in the side mirror.

Meanwhile, a mile back, Jeremy finally turned into the Murray driveway.

Gravel crunched beneath his tires as the factory swallowed him into shadow. The structure loomed larger up close, its dark windows reflecting nothing back.

He parked but didn’t get out immediately.

Just sat there, hands gripping the wheel.

Listening.

The night felt too quiet.

No traffic. No wind. Just the low tick of the cooling engine.

And beneath it, faint and distant, something mechanical shifting deep inside the building.

Like a system waking up.

Jeremy stepped out of the car, door closing with a dull thud that echoed across the empty lot.

He looked up at the factory.

Then toward the direction of the Plex, its glow barely visible over the rooftops.

Two places. Two histories.

The eyes of the hurricane about to hit this town.

He turned and headed for the entrance.