Promotion (Yandere Glamrock Freddy x Reader)

Nine

After his momentary alarm, Monty pushed you back behind him, blocking you from the STAFF bot. "Back off, ya scrap heap, she ain't a threat here," he growled, voice low and making you mildly calmer.

Though I'd hate to be on the receiving end of his attitude...

The bot didn't move for a few more seconds, but eventually it wheeled itself to face the two of you. The gator had planted himself solidly between you and the possible assailant... but your STAFF bot didn't make any motions to try and get around to you. "Employee identification complete," came it's automated voice. "How may I be of service?"

Both you and Monty let out the air from your lungs... or whatever he had in place of them. His arms lowered, albeit slowly. "Hoo boy, pretty sure I need a change of pants now," he mumbled, shaking his head but perking up when you managed a giggle. "Uhh... well, I ain't sure what to do now, but at least we know you're not seen as a threat, yeah?"

You nodded, sighing again as you stepped around the gator to look over your new STAFF bot. Assistant? Helper? You weren't sure what to call it, but.....

Standing right in front of the bot, who gazed down at you without a sound, you eyed it closely. "... can I name you?"

It just sort of tilted it's head a touch, not responding. Monty, on the other hand, gave you a strange expression. "Girlie, why do ya wanna name this thing? Doesn't seem... useful, ya dig?"

Shrugging, you glanced back and forth between him and the bot. "Maybe, but... I don't know, how would I be able to tell him apart from all the others?" Turning back to your STAFF bot, it seemed to tilt it's head again. "Well? If I gave you a name, would you respond to that?"

"Him? You're already giving this thing a gender?"

Glaring a bit at the gator, your hands planted solidly on your hips. "I'm not trying to misgender anybody, Monty. Humans are pack animals, and we pack bond with everything. If I want to give him a name, then I'm gonna give him a name!" Giving the silent bot one last look, you nodded. "... what about Connor? May I call you Connor?"

There was a long pause before the bot's chest lit up from behind the plating. The name CONNOR appeared in blue light, and you smiled wide.

"Girlie, this ain't Detroit. He ain't been sent by CyberLife."

"Monty, with all due respect, shove it up your tailpipe."

Luckily, he just snorted and laughed.

☆|☆|☆|☆

Half an hour later, you found yourself in a long hall, the Rockstar Row that you had been so curious about from the beginning. Your STAFF bot- or Connor, rather- had printed your schedule for the next two weeks, starting tomorrow.

And in an absurd coincidence, you were assigned to clean up Rockstar Row.

Claw on your shoulder, your scaly tour guide couldn't seem to stop his tail from wagging. "Two whole weeks around us, girlie. Honestly, I can't wait. And I'm sure the others are dyin' to meet'cha, too." You gazed down the hallway, four green rooms along one side. Well... three of them you could see. One of them was closed off and darkened, with velvet ropes and signs to warn guests that the attraction was closed.

Your eyebrows came together. All four rooms were designed to be fairly obvious as to who they belonged to. Which meant... "Monty?"

"Yeah, girlie? 'Sup?"

"Is that... your green room? The one closed to the public?" When he didn't respond, you glanced back at him; the gator was looking pointedly away from you, incredibly dejected. His arms hung limp at his sides, tail not moving. Slowly you came closer, hand on his upper arm as a means of support. "Monty, honey, why is your green room shut down?"

Being given a pet name did earn you a tail wag, but it was short-lived. His claws reached and laid on your shoulders. "Listen. There's a lotta stuff about me that I ain't ready to tell you yet. So... please don't ask. Please. I'm beggin' ya. I don't want ya to start hatin' me, too."

That was concerning, to say the least. Taking a chance, you removed the hand from his arm in favor of his cheek. The material that made up his shell was hard, of course, but almost warm to the touch. "I know I haven't exactly started working yet, but... I really do like you, Monty. I don't think there's anything you could tell me that would change that."

Oh, girlie, you don't know the half of it.

☆|☆|☆|☆

After a minute or so of trying to cheer the gator up, he gently guided you towards the nearest green room: Glamrock Chica's. Peeking inside the picture window assaulted your eyes with pink, but it suited her all too well. She was sitting down with her guitar, no one visiting for the moment, but yours and Monty's appearance in the window made her look up.

You could hear her squeal through the glass. Chica set her guitar aside and ran to open her door. You couldn't even maneuver around the velvet ropes before you were enveloped in her hug. "Ooooooh, she's so pretty!!!" the chicken squealed, gripping you with far more strength than necessary.

"Ch.... Chica....?" you gasped, muffled.

"Hmm? What is it, sweetie?"

"...... AIR...."

She promptly let you go, giggling as you struggled to refill your lungs. "I forget my strength, I'm sorry sweetie." She looked to Monty, who seemed rather subdued. "So? Tell me everything before I just scan her profile, Monty."

"Just scan her," he replied softly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

Blinking, the chicken tried not to make a big deal out of his strange behavior as she gazed at you. It lasted only a couple of seconds but she sighed a little. "Oh, janitorial? Yeah, that's usually what the newbies get stuck with. But that's why we have so many STAFF!" she added, perking back up. "Cause no one lasts in that department; they all transfer to other areas. Most of our STAFF bots do the cleaning; it's like initiation for you!" So Chica took your hands, rubbing the backs of them with her thumbs. "So tell me, where do you really wanna work, sweetie?"

You paused, then finally shrugged. "I'm not sure, actually. I wanted to work in the Raceway but Scott said--"

"--that it's shut down?" Chica finished for you. She nodded in understanding. "Mhm. Lots of stuff going wrong over there. When they fix one problem, five more pop up." The door opening and closing made both of you look over, only to see that Monty had left. She paused before looking at you again, very obviously concerned. "What happened? Monty kept talking about you backstage, and... now he's upset."

Feeling a good deal awkward and guilty, your gaze trailed towards the floor. "I wish I knew. I asked him why his green room was shut down, and he said something about not wanting me to know yet." You gazed into Chica's eyes, almost pleading with her. "If I said something wrong, I need to know. I want to apologize."

She shook her head slowly, earrings swaying... though she had no actual ears. "No, no, sweetie, it's not your fault. You don't have to apologize. Lots of stuff happened years ago, and... I think the other employees sort of... forgot about Monty."

(I do not know who made the image above but it just screams Safe Mode Monty.)