Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza was alive with noise and neon. The arcade pulsed with retro beats, stage lights flickered like a concert, and the smell of greasy pizza clung to every booth and hoodie. Six teens roamed the place like it was their second home.

• Gabriel, now a high school junior and the football team’s quarterback, led the group with easy confidence. His red cap was still turned backward, and he had a habit of checking in on everyone like a big brother.
• Fritz, the team’s wild wide receiver, was all energy and chaos. He bounced between arcade machines, fingers flying over buttons. Bet I beat your score before the pizza’s ready! he called out, already halfway through a game.
• Jeremy, quiet but observant, leaned against a pinball machine, hoodie up, eyes scanning the room. He was the team’s strategist on defense and had a dry sense of humor.
• Susie, bubbly and bright, twirled near the prize counter, her stuffed dog now clipped to her backpack. She still adored Chica. She’s basically my cupcake dealer, she laughed, snapping a selfie with the animatronic.
• Cassidy, thoughtful and a little mysterious, trailed behind, her gaze drifting from wall to wall. She didn’t say much, but when she did, people listened.
• Charlotte, sharp and stylish, had her phone out, documenting everything for her vlog. Okay, squad—front row for the show, then pizza, then photo booth, she declared, already organizing the night like a pro.