I was struck by how normal working at Pecatto’s was. It was too ordinary.

It felt like Carousel was rubbing it in our faces.

That wasn’t to say there weren’t some odd things.

Camden had looked through all of the timesheets and schedules and found that there were three no-call, no-shows. We followed up with Jerrica and found that those were just former employees who had dropped off the face of the earth.

“We should follow up,” Camden said. “Track down these people. Talk to their families. See if they really quit, or if they went missing.”

“I don’t know,” I said. We were Off-Screen, so I could speak freely. “Do you really want to drill down on the realism aspect? I still think the longer we can go without our characters knowing something is wrong, the better. It’s not even First Blood yet.”

He seemed to consider this idea.

“But what are we supposed to do? We haven’t even seen any enemies,” he said.

“Let’s try to figure out what story Carousel is trying to tell. For some reason, I don’t think it’s a murder mystery. After First Blood, if we don’t make any progress, we can start following all the leads. But for right now, I think it would be best if only you and Anna act suspicious of the place.”

They were likely the main characters, though Carousel was picking on Isaac, so that could mean something.

We were in the break room, in the middle of our shift.

“So what do you think is happening?” Anna asked. “This place is so creepy when you know something is wrong, but you don’t know what it is.”

Anna had gotten to know everyone, the other employees, the family, management, some of the food suppliers, and, of course, the customers. No one even hinted that things had gone wrong.

“It’s driving me crazy,” Camden said. “The Bonaventuras just seem like a normal family. Well, not normal for my family, but like they could be from Earth.”

The family didn’t seem in on the supernatural aspect of the restaurant. Or they were faking even better than the Patchers did.

“Heads up, we’re about to be On-Screen,” I said. “Look, the Atlas was pretty clear about this storyline. Once you see what it’s about, you can’t unsee it. And we have the pizza lead.”

There were not a lot of horror movies where the first clue that something is about to go wrong is that pizza appears from nowhere.

“We’ll always have that sixth pizza,” Camden repeated.

I could tell he was anxious. This storyline took at least a week and a half, according to the Atlas. We had only been here a few days. It had an extended Party Phase; maybe it was meant to give us time to explore. Maybe it was meant to give us the exact anxiety Camden was feeling.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” I said.

“At least it won’t be bed bugs,” Camden said.

Someone had spoiled the Itch storyline for him.

“At least it won’t be bed bugs,” I repeated. “Five seconds to On-Screen.”

On-Screen

“I don’t see the point in touring other schools when I know I’m going to go to Carousel U,” Camden said.

“The point was that we got to skip class,” Anna said.

They didn’t get to finish their little impromptu conversation because the door to the break room opened up suddenly.

In walked a giant six-foot-tall fiery ferret.

Anna started to laugh immediately.

“Don’t say anything,” Isaac said as he threw off the head to the mascot uniform.

I couldn’t help but laugh. Isaac had been a real punching bag for Carousel in this storyline. This was something else.

“I didn’t even know they had mascot costumes,” Camden said as Isaac waddled across the floor, dropped his ferret head, and then tried to pick it up, to little success.

“Why would a burned ferret be a pizza place mascot, anyway?” Isaac asked.

“Well, he’s a fire ferret,” I said. “Unfortunately, the lava plumes that he’s native to were wiped out by forestation, so Frankie the Fire Ferret searched far and wide for a new home. Until eventually, he found Pecatto’s Pizza Parlor, and Hot Head let him live inside his mouth.”

“I’m not at all surprised that you know that,” Isaac said, glaring at me.

“You know me. I love the lore,” I said.

Frankie was orange and long, and he had a crazed look on his face with his tongue permanently stuck outside of his mouth. He looked exactly like the real animatronic that would sometimes pop out of Hot Head’s mouth and scream at the other characters.

“So why are you wearing that?” Anna asked. “Did you forget your uniform again?”

“No,” Isaac said. “There’s a birthday, and we all have to go sing.”

I looked at Camden.

“All of us?” I asked. “Even back-of-house people?”

Isaac gave me a defiant look and a smile.

“Everybody.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

And so there was a little girl whose birthday had come, and she had chosen to spend it with us at Pecatto’s.

We all had to sing, which was great for me because it meant I could not sing and no one would notice. Ruck, who had not actually gotten a job there, still hung out trying to get attention from Avery. He sang louder than everyone else.

If it had been my birthday, I would have been mortified. But the little girl smiled and clapped and blew out the candles on her cake.

And nothing really happened.

Not to me, at least.

This scene was about Avery and Ruck. He would playfully ask her out, and she would turn him down. It was a totally normal thing to see in an ’80s or ’90s movie, but it probably wouldn’t hold up for modern audiences.

“Look, Avery,” I heard him saying. “One day, you’re gonna pick a guy to settle down with, and people are going to say things about it. They’re either going to say, ‘Oh, you two are perfect for each other’—gag—or they’re gonna say, ‘Wow man, she’s way out of your league.’ Could you imagine the self-confidence you would get from constantly being told that you’re out of your husband’s league?”

“Husband?” Avery asked, shocked.

“Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself,” Ruck said.

“Way ahead,” Avery said.

They continued to banter back and forth.

And it was important that they did. Avery had a trope called The Neighborhood Boys, which empowered her character’s admirers to help save or protect her. It would seem that was what Ruck was being set up for here, which made it important.

And she really needed to set this type of thing up soon, because despite us not learning a whole lot about the storyline, we were getting close to First Blood.

Isaac tried to inject himself into the conversation, too; his crush, which had mostly maintained a veneer of innocence, would also give him access to buffs from Avery’s tropes. So he really needed to continue playing up that angle.

The fact that he was wearing a giant ferret costume did not bode well for him in his attempts.

I thought we were doing alright, I really did.

This was not a heavily plotted storyline. It was more about atmosphere and the individual scenes. That was part of the reason that I discouraged Camden and Anna from trying to run down the names of those missing employees.

At that moment, they were just some teenagers who quit their jobs without calling in. But if they became missing people, the stakes of this storyline would rise even further than they naturally were. We wanted cartoonish stakes for as long as possible.

Anna and Camden had not been around to learn those lessons.

Cassie had not gotten a job, but was still a regular customer. She would come to talk to Anna or Ramona. She would gripe at Isaac.

Ramona was handing out balloons for the birthday party. She did not appear to be a big character in the storyline, and while I wanted her to level up, I could understand why she might not be that important of a character. Hysterics were great for pushing along a plot (especially one with Ramona’s tropes), and this storyline, well, its plot came secondary to the vibes.

I wouldn’t be surprised if this were the type of story where the characters were just wiped out one by one until the main characters found a way to survive.

That was yet to be seen.

Part of me wanted something that simple.

Another part of me wanted there to be a secret, deeper level. I always craved that.

The party came and went. The work stuck around. It was late, verging on 11 at night. The dine-in area was officially closed, but we were still taking orders by phone.

The Bonaventura family had all converged on the parlor and were devouring what remained of the buffet.

I still didn’t know how they fit into this.

They did just seem like a normal family; they bickered and gossiped. Aunts licked their thumbs and wiped smudges off their nephews’ cheeks. Uncles told made-up stories while smoking cigars.

And since they all worked in the restaurant, as soon as they were done eating the buffet, they started cleaning right along with all of us employees. And while they cleaned, they continued their conversations.

Gus Junior’s three sisters were the loudest people I had ever met. They could easily continue talking about some guy one of them dated, even though they were in three different parts of the building.

Gus Junior’s mom was walking around trying to get the employees to eat the leftover tiramisu and wouldn’t take no for an answer. She had been here from the beginning of the restaurant, and so had her tiramisu.

Trip tried to take charge, organizing people to clean tables and stack chairs while the cousins vacuumed.

I just tried to stay out of the way.

It felt really awkward being there with the whole family. They were so used to having random employees around that I was mostly ignored in matters unrelated to stale tiramisu.

All I had to do was clean up the back kitchen. I could do that without a problem. In fact, I had done it hours earlier, and we hadn’t gotten an order for pizza since then, in reality. I was pretty sure that within the world of the storyline, we were busy, but there was no need to make me make pizza when all they had to do was let the ticket machine run and spit out new orders.

Carousel always was pretty fair when it came to gathering footage. I didn’t just have to make pizza for no reason.

So, having cleaned up and finished my side work, I was ready to leave.

I was walking down the hallway, past the office where Gus Junior was still inside, stressing about this thing and that.

I thought about striking up a conversation with him, but all I could do was stare. He had a stack of papers in front of him, as well as multiple stacks of tickets and receipts.

He was trying to make sense of it all.

I figured I should find a way to get Camden inside there, to look at all those tickets, to see if there was anything worth finding. However, it seemed like a stretch because pizza orders probably didn’t contain too many clues.

If I wasn’t going to talk to him, I needed to walk on past. I was On-Screen. I had to be careful, or else I might accidentally become more than a side character.

As I made it a point to continue past the office door, Gus Junior came to life from his stress-induced catatonia and said, “Hey, Riley. You heading home?”

I turned around immediately. I knew it was too good to be true.

“Yep,” I said. “Got the kitchen all cleaned up.”

“Good, good.” He leaned back in his chair. “You liking the job? Everybody treating you well?”

“Everything’s been great so far,” I said.

“Good,” he said in a tired, defeated tone. “Always like to hear that. If you need anything, just ask.”

“Will do,” I said, and then, despite my best efforts not to be a real character, I turned back to him and asked in my least intrusive tone of voice, “We do good business here, right? I mean, we’re always busy.”

Gus ran his fingers through the place where his hair would’ve been about ten years earlier. He started to laugh.

“Oh, we’re always busy,” he said. “Thank Elidel for that. We might even one day crawl out of this hole.”

Gus was always stressed about something. Debt made sense to be the thing.

“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, no, you’re fine. You’d find out eventually. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, that’s what my dad used to say. I just wish he didn’t venture quite so much.”

This was none of my business. But if he was going to talk…

“Does it have something to do with the partner?” I asked.

Gus Junior’s face turned white.

“So you heard about the business partner, huh?”

“People talk,” I said.

“They sure do. Especially if their last name is Bonaventura.” He sighed. “Yeah… Dad took on a business partner. Didn’t find out about it until his death. Supposedly, they helped with the renovations to make this place what it is today. But he sure gave them a sweetheart deal. I don’t know what he was thinking.”

Gus looked legitimately distressed. Maybe he even looked ashamed.

“Are we ever going to meet them?” I asked. “Are they part owners?”

He bit his lip.

“You just might,” he said, staring forward at the wall of his office. “You just might.”

There was an awkward silence, and then Gus seemed to remember something.

“Riley, could you do me a favor? I just remembered that we have a last-minute delivery. I was going to make it myself, but I could sure use some help.”

“Sure,” I said. But what I really wanted to say was How dare you?

He handed me a ticket with a simple order on it. Didn’t even have five pizzas, so I didn’t expect a sixth one to appear magically.

“And can you find one of the delivery drivers who can deliver it? The address is there on the ticket. This guy gets a pizza every week like clockwork. He has difficulty getting out and about.”

“Okay,” I said. “Sure thing.”

And then I trudged back to the kitchens but not before sticking my head out the front and noting that there was only one delivery driver still around.

Avery.

And if I took the time to make the pizza, and she delivered it to this address…

I had to wonder:

Could she be back before 1 a.m.?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep